Almost half an hour from where we’re staying is Ss Peter and Paul Catholic Parish. We show up at 8:30am and soon discover Mass time has been changed to 9am because it’s the first day of school and the students and teachers need half an hour to get organized and over to the church.
Students arrive in silence. Their teachers quietly indicate who should sit where. I remember the same routine in parishes where I worked. It’s a small school, (about 80 students K-8) and the pastor’s face shines with joy as he tells the children how happy he is that school has finally started. He says they bring life to campus and make him so happy.
Around us, parents greet each other with warm smiles. Though there is no instrument to accompany them, children and adults sing familiar hymns. I join in and my heart swells with gratitude as I witness the beginning of new school year in this small Catholic community. It feels like a privilege, a gift.
On our way home, Doug slows the car and I lower the window to snap this picture which is somewhat disappointing. The camera lens on my phone just cannot capture the depths and layers we see. It’s been raining and much of the smoke is dispersed, but clouds move in ever-changing mesmerizing patterns. Creation is glorious!
Back at the Owl’s Nest where we’re staying, Doug has to check something on his computer and an utterly incomprehensible news story pops up. For students at Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis, the first school Mass of the year brings only horror. The catastrophic grief people are experiencing in Minnesota juxtaposes itself against the palpable joy I’ve just witnessed here in Idaho. “God,” I cry, “Do not abandon your children. Drive away all hate and death. Bring healing, hope and peace. Be with all who grieve and mourn. For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.”
The rest of our day is both relaxing and filled with great conversation. John shares with us a sacred song he composed, singing and strumming his guitar like a pro. Pondering lyrics about the river of God , I imagine the streams of water and blood flowing from the side of Christ, rivers of mercy and love. It’s a beautiful interlude in our day, one that we’d have missed if John had not shared his gifts.
Kim has chicken, onions, tomatoes, corn tortillas, and chipotles in adobo. It’s most of what I need to make Chicken Tinga. Doug volunteers to shop for the remaining ingredients (cabbage and queso fresco), and I make a real meal for the first time since our trip began.
As the Tinga finishes cooking, Doug leads the four of us in Evening Prayer (or Vespers). Our praying the Psalms, (the ancient prayers of Jews and Christians) leads to a dinner discussion about Israel and the Church, revealing still more common ground.
The plan is to leave early tomorrow, so we reluctantly say our goodbyes tonight, but then have to return one more time to get this picture. Oh well . . . one more hug. We hope to make it up this way again sometime in the not too distant future.
For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.
– Romans 11:36
Inundated with Love 