Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Holy Cross in Holy Cross, Iowa - Blessed Advent

They were my first group of students. For a small Catholic high school in the middle of rural Iowa, Beckman had about 130 students taking Spanish in 1989-1991, my first year as a teacher.

They had me running from the first day. It's not easy to keep up with students who have an 90% college-bound graduation rate. On top of that, Spanish was only my minor.

But it was a teaching job when I really needed one. And the faculty and staff were terrific, even to the non-Catholic new 1st year teacher (me).

And the group of freshmen . . . well they were the best reason for signing on the dotted line.

I loved those kids. I doubt they knew that. But I did. And there were many times as the years went by that I wished I could go back and teach them all over again.

One of the more frustrating things about teaching at Beckman - and loving your core group of students as I did - was that I could not go forward to receive Holy Communion with them. I remember feeling an ache in my heart as I watched them stand and move toward the Altar.

And at the same time, I knew that I didn't embrace all of Catholic teaching. I thought I knew most of it, but now I realize that I did not know much at all. The Holy Spirit hadn't come along and blown out the dusty corners of my soul to make room for Catholic teaching . . . to make room for the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Years later, when that miracle of grace happened, and my eyes were opened, and I saw the Eucharist as though for the first time . . . and I received the teachings of Mother Church without preconceived ideas and biases . . . I wanted to run to the Altar. I wanted to receive this One I had loved since I was a little girl. I wanted to be freed from the past so I could receive Holy Communion, not simply because my heart longed to accompany students to the Altar. But because I hungered for all of Jesus.

It was not enough that I had asked Him to come into my heart when I was a little girl. It was not enough to love Him and want to serve Him. I needed Him. I needed the grace of the Most Blessed Sacrament.

I had lived long enough to know that I couldn't manage the journey toward holiness without something more. And that something that I needed was the Eucharist . . . and the only Church with valid Holy Orders to give us priests who can pray the prayer of Consecration and bring Jesus to us!

About a month or two after entering the Church, I was walking forward to receive the Eucharist and the Communion song was "One Bread, One Body". The tears began to run down my face.

That was the song they sang at Beckman High School when the students went forward to receive. That was the song that brought me back to that time, those students, that missed opportunity, that incredible gift of teaching in this Catholic school, though I had very little in my resume (or in my soul) to warrant it.

And I realized, as that song played and the Faithful sang the words, that I am more in union with those students I taught so long ago than I was when I introduced them to another culture and language.

Today, I am in full union with the teachings of Mother Church, and I am free to stand and walk that aisle that leads to my greatest joy, the Eucharist.

The students came from a number of parishes in the area. Today, I turn my prayers to Fr. Raymond Burkle and Holy Cross Parish. May those who live near this parish - though not Catholic - see the light of the Faithful lived out in the community and may the same Holy Spirit who gave us our Infant Redeemer bring about many conversions through the witness of the Holy Cross laity.

On this, the fourth day of the third week of Advent, may God bless you!


Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

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