November 1
St. Francis, Chapel, St. John’s University- Collegeville
Who Wants to be a Saint? Father Michael Patella’s homily focused on the legions of saints relating to “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” in a relevant pop culture connection. Both large in size and style, the Abbey was Bauhaus modern, a term I knew from previous tours. Starting with the eye-catching, towering wall of stained glass, I was drawn to the evening light filtered through a huge honeycomb wall of colored glass. Adding to the visuals, a generous helping of incense wafted from the sparse altar and voices carried over the sonorous organ in a multisensory blast. Much of the music was in chant form with voices harmonized in unison throughout the huge church. Clearly the acoustics had been carefully considered during construction. I hadn’t been to a Mass at the Abbey for decades. Though the physical church had not changed, the shortage of religious was apparent. Previously, I recalled the two large sections of wings behind the altar filled with priests and monks, but tonight only one side was partially filled while laypersons sat in the other. These wings were ringed by a high concrete wall and atop the wall, candles flickered between relics of Saints. We were literally surrounded by Saints!
Thankfully the Benedictine hospitality was alive and well as two monks helped us lay people navigate the Monks’ seating area with individually sectioned-off, thick black wooden seats. The kneelers were up and we were instructed to also put up our seats at communion to make room, but the single aisle and unusual seating made it a challenge to return to our places, thankfully the ever-present Monks helped shepherd us back behind the high wall. Perhaps pulled in because it was a Holy Day of Obligation, dozens of students attended the Friday evening service. Regardless, seeing the Spirit alive and well in the youth inspired me.
Sainthood
Could I be a Saint? I feel like I would know in advance, right? I had been working on my soul while I tried to keep my body intact too. By far the most interesting point spiritually was the increased awareness of THE END than ever before. I was grateful everyday, rest assured, but lines like “the hour of my death” repeated 53 times per rosary would often cause me to pause, a jolt in the prayer reminding me that I needed to get my spiritual poop in a group.
After Mass, I had the pleasure of dining in the Refectory (main dining hall) with a living saint, my dear soul sister, Barb. I have never known another teacher who inspires students with social justice issues and concern for the environment like Barb. Even while we ate, a former student sought her out. Her generosity is amazing; she easily gives out four times her caloric intake every day. Best of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to write. Her suggestions prompted me to take my reflections and weave my cancer story as each Mass connected to my experience, not in chronological order, but the pieces t