Holy Grounds

I noticed the espresso machine was out of order this morning. I note the importance of this only because of our communal dependence on two things: God, and caffeinated beverages. As I went up to press the button, dispensing what has now become my routine morning double-shot of espresso, the red light on the machine glared at me, saying with an unspoken obstinacy, "EMPTY". I pushed the button anyway, hoping to avoid a pit of non-caffeinated despair, wishing with every ounce of my being that I might receive just a drop from the machine. Nothing.

Thus was the morning. I was - by the grace of God - able to offer up this minor inconvenience, taking as suitable substitutes the beautiful 70 degree morning, a cup of OJ, and in case I had forgotten, the fact that I was still partaking in this once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

I find this phenomenon interesting. At times, feelings of entitlement can creep into our hearts, even in the slightest ways. Perhaps it's the daily walk we take in the mornings, that radio talk show we listen to in the car on the way to work, or maybe - like me - it's that warm cup of coffee each and every day. These gifts from God lose their worth, they lose their value as we unconsciously receive them day after day, after day, after..... After all, so much of our life is routine, and even the smallest things which once we were able to delight in, we become indifferent to; we forget how to receive these gifts, feeling over time that we are in some way entitled to such things in our daily routine. And, God-forbid we don't receive these gifts on any one day. Our world might as well be rocked, the apocalypse immanent, and our day then ruined.

Our group attended Mass at a Benedictine monastery before spending the afternoon in prayer. Because the Mass was in French, I found myself really mulling over the absence of my cup of espresso, most prominently during the homily. During the Offertory, however, this humble group of Benedictine Monks and Sisters began a heavenly tune which caught my attention. The rising melodies, the beautifully accompanying harmonies..... These angelic voices compelled me to forget about everything. The espresso, the grogginess of the day, the self-pity and entitlement which seeped into my heart. All of it, gone. And just for a moment I was caught up in something beyond myself. My focus was entirely on the other, and I couldn't help but thank God for the beautiful sounds that were echoing throughout the dark, Crusader Chapel.

This is God's desire; this is how He labors to love us. He sends innumerable gifts, graces and blessings our way with the hope that we might raise our eyes to Him. That we might thank Him, adore Him, and "praise the glorious favor He has bestowed on us in His beloved." (Eph. 1:6)

Follow Up: In God's providence, the espresso machine was stocked full, working just fine this morning. May our God be praised!

Soli Deo.