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I Believe In Miracles

I was realizing this morning that I am a witness to a miracle nearly every day. Most days of most weeks, I hear and see a man bring forth bread and wine, and by the Holy Spirit, change it into the Body and Blood of Christ. Oh, there isn't much to see, in human terms. It's a miracle, nonetheless.

I'm particularly thankful for the prayers during the liturgy of the Eucharist. In a sense, we are told why Jesus has chosen to come. God has made promises, all throughout recorded history, and the Eucharist is the ultimate promise: "And surely I will be with you, even to the end of the age."

I guess I worry about declining numbers in the pews. But if you don't believe, acting on that unbelief in the form of not showing up is more honest. There is no good reason to be a "church" person, unless it is true. People must have fond memories of fish-frys and youth group, because all these people--who don't appear to be contemplating the niceties of epistemology and revelation--used to be "practicing" Catholics, and now they are not.

For my part, it seems like I am in a movie, and then I realize it's real. "May our voices, we pray, join with theirs..."

If this is true, this is the greatest action movie ever.

 If grace is really raining down on us from this altar, I should do this all the time.

 I don't feel like much of a saint, but then, how much worse would I be if I were not here?

 Amen.
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