August 21, 2009

Womb and Tomb

Last night at about a quarter to one the fire alarm went off in the monastery. When I heard the fire trucks on the way, I got up and decided to go outside. Usually these alarms amount to nothing. But you never know, so I went out through the church just in case there was any real danger and the Blessed Sacrament needed to be rescued.

The church was particularly dark in the middle of the night, and the lights from the fire trucks flickered through the Capuchin saints that adorn the windows of the church doors. Not seeing any reason to be alarmed, I stopped for a moment in the completely darkened and empty space. There are deep spiritual senses of the church building or liturgical space that suggest themselves most strongly in the middle of the night when the lights are off.

A church is the dark tomb of our Lord, the place where he rests on the sabbath from the work of redemption before rising again to re-create the world on the first day. Like Mary Magdalene, we gather in vigil at this tomb, lamenting our own part in his death and then rejoicing in that moment when the Lord calls us by name and we suddenly recognize his Presence.

A church is also the darkness of Mary's womb, the secret and inner cavern where the Word of God will be spoken and conceived--with our consent--in human flesh. At Mass we consent, like Mary, to have the humanity of Christ conceived in our lives, and we become the Body of Christ we receive. As Mary gave birth to the Word made flesh in her son Jesus Christ, so we become the Body of Christ we receive in the Eucharist and are born into the world as his Presence when we are sent forth at the end of Mass. The church, as the womb of Mary, is the dark and secret place where the Word of God becomes flesh, and from which His saving presence is sent into the world.

9 comments:

Adoro said...

Thank you, Father, this is amazing!

Jeanne said...

Wonderful reflection. And you're right about empty churches at night. I used to help my mother clean the church in the neighborhood I grew up in. We would stand in the darkness with just the one candle lit over the tabernacle ..and there was something there. You can feel it. And I hope the fire alarm was nothing to worry about!

Brother Charles said...

Actually, it turned out to be a real fire, a small electrical one that put the elevator out of commission. It's a hardship for some of the senior friars, so pray in thanksgiving for their patience and perseverance.

Qualis Rex said...

Yet another extremely profound post, Father Charles. Thanks for that. As an aside, have you ever visited "THE" tomb? I can't tell you what a deep experience that is. Talk about sensory overstimulation.

Brother Charles said...

The Lord's Tomb was the first place I ever proclaimed the Sacred Scripture at Mass.

Qualis Rex said...

Father Charles that is incredible! I'm guessing you did so at the Franciscan chapel at the left side of the entrance, correct? The Armenian Orthodox church holds custody of the actual "tomb" or crypt and I doubt they would have let you hold mass there unfortunately (they are all far too territorial there). When I was there back in 2002 I met an incredible Franciscan from Ghana; the friendliest guy on the planet, but big and strong as an ox and confident. He sincerely intimidated some of the Israeli "peacekeepers" whenever they came around. Not naming names, but maybe you know who I'm talking about : )

I'd really enjoy hearing any/all stories you have on your experiences there.

Brother Charles said...

In the sepulchre chapel itself, believe it or not. Only a couple of us fit, the rest of our group was outside. I had asked for a pilgrimage to the Holy Land for my graduation present from college, and went in the spring of '94.

pennyante said...

Thank you for such a beautiful reflection. How fortunate you are to be able to enter you sanctuary any time you wish...

Most of us can only enter the church during normal Mass times. Arriving a little early or staying a short time after Mass. Most churches I am aware of are locked during the day...

At the rare times when I am called to take Communion to the Sick of the parish on a weekday rather than Sunday, I always arrive at church with enough time to spend at least twenty minutes alone in silence... I look forward to those moments alone with our God...

Brother Charles said...

I love that we have our church open all day.