A potentially good thing happened to me this morning, actually a potentially great thing. It has to do with a longtime rift with someone I love very much, and an indication the ice may be thawing.
The situation has been the subject of many prayers, mine and those of some friends. It seemed appropriate to offer up thanks in a house of worship, so I made the four-block or so trek from the day job to St. Vincent de Paul Church’s 12:10 p.m. Mass despite the rain and general misery outside.
St. Vincent is an old inner-city church with aging, homey, lovely interior. It generally draws around a dozen souls for daily Mass, but today we were half again that many. I wondered why as I waited for Mass to start. Then, a priest I’d never seen before entered. He said that since it was St. Blaise’s feast day, after Mass he would be blessing throats. St. Blaise! The larger number of Mass-goers made sense. The story goes that the fourth-century martyr on his way to his death saved the life of a child choking on a fishbone. These days, the story is regarded as a legend. I giggled a little, and figured why not, there’s a first time for everything.
During his homily, the priest challenged us to think of the blessing as more than a way to ward off sore throats and other health issues. “Our tongues and lips are to be used to praise and adore the Lord,” he said. Then, after the sending forth, we all lined up to receive the blessing, offered with a device that looked like a cross between a pitchfork and a wishbone.
As I headed back to work, I thought about the homily. And in addition to the prayers of thanksgiving I’d offered at St. Vincent, I praised God, and asked him to put on my tongue and lips the words that will help to continue the relationship’s healing.
