Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Hora Santa

I’ve realized how little I’ve shared some of my personal reflections, so here goes.

Almost every night of the week I accompany the students to a service at St. Rosa de Lima, the Catholic Church in town. Over the last five months I’ve spent a lot of time in the pews there, reflecting, listening, and praying. Last year when I was accepted into this program, I was uncertain about how the very present religious life of the mission would change me. In fact, it was one of my biggest hesitancies. In college I wasn’t much of a church-goer, and put my spirituality on the back burner. Yet, I was confident that I would be able to continue to be a role model for the students. I have always believed strongly in the love and dedication to justice that is deeply rooted in the Catholic faith.

Every Thursday is Holy Hour, something that I don’t always look forward to. Normally it’s a challenge to stay focused for such a long time and be present. But tonight was different.

From the very beginning of Holy Hour I felt open to the strong feelings of love and faith. Praying before Christ on the altar was ever powerful. During the Easter season and up until a few weeks ago the crucifix hanging over the altar had been covered with a tapestry. Tonight the crucifix served as just another reminder of the never-ending love and sacrifice of Christ. Rigo, a friend and the person directing the prayer, reminded us to give all of ourselves to God.

I thought of the last five months and how much I’ve grown and come to enjoy the scripture and its messages. I thought of the past week, of the little acts of kindness that I had witnessed and the love that I feel each time I enter the Center. I thought of everything that I’m thankful for, here in Guaimaca and in the States.
I’ve always felt a strong connection with the Holy Spirit, but lacked such with the Holy Trinity. Last month I read Pope John Paul’s reflections on the Eucharist, gaining insight to what that sacrament means for the priests. It helped me to recognize and further develop my own beliefs. This night deepend that insight and understanding even further. I could feel God present in those around me and felt honored to be a part of the Adoration.

In the middle of one of the times of silent prayer, the chorus started singing a song called Los Angeles de Dios:

Hay angeles  presentes en este lugar
En medio del pueblo en junto al altar
Subiendo y bajando en todas las direcciones
No sé si la iglesia subió o si el cielo bajó
Si sé que está lleno de angeles de Dios
Porque el mismo Dios está aqui.

My mom had brought a cd of Spanish music with her when she visited last week with my dad and brother. In her down time at the Center she played this song on repeat, trying to learn the words in Spanish. Needless to say, it was stuck in my head for the entire week and as much as I disliked it, I found myself singing along.

When it was sung tonight, the first time that I’ve heard it at our church, it was absolutely beautiful. I could feel the energy and strength in the voices of those singing along. But mostly I was so moved by the fact that it was being sung, after my mom had shared how much the song meant to her. I couldn’t help but see it as somewhat of a sign. It felt like her love and faith that she has shared with me for the past 22 years was there with me, continuing to guide me and my faith. (Cue lots of messy crying.) I know that I will look back on this moment as a turning point, and can feel how something has changed within me.