A Retiring Temperament at Adoration

The monastery across the street from where I work has Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament daily.  I went over today for my lunch, and knelt in contemplation until the noon Angelus bells.  I had the public side of the chapel to myself, with the monstrance up in a special opening above the alter.

Whenever I spend time before the Blessed Sacrament, I struggle to have the appropriate thoughts or feelings or attitude.  I try to make myself feel prayerfully aware that God, in the Person of Jesus, is there before me.  It seldom works. For one thing, I have difficulty simply conceptualizing One God With Three Persons.  He became man and told us directly who He is; clearly He knows how difficult it is to understand all this! Then, in an incredible, fourth-dimension sort of way, He made bread and wine into Himself, and that's Him there before me. No, I can't know it, not the way He made us to know Him originally.

I have found a few works that help me get closer to knowing, though.  C.S. Lewis, for one.  But today St. Francis de Sales had the right words.  In "Introduction to the Devout Life" he advises one keep in mind that the Lord is present always, and provides the image of a great lord's huge hall, with the full court present.  The lord may not address himself to a particular person the whole of the day, but that person is none-the-less aware of the noble presence.

Were I in such a place, I mused today, I would not want to be sitting in front of the throne, or even within a direct line of sight.  I am more comfortable behind the great ones, better yet standing on the sidelines.

I then looked at the monstrance and thought of it as "facing" the other side of the chapel, where the sisters sit.  That helped.  He is always here, but at that moment I was sitting behind Him, a little to the right.

I remember when I was very young my parents would have grownup parties, with people talking and eating and drinking.  Nothing untoward, just grownups.  Perhaps with records playing.  I learned that if I sat in a corner, down low and out of the way, I could remain for well past my bedtime.  I had a perfect spot, just inside the door to the living room, where I could sit on a heater vent, partially hidden by a low chair. Sometimes a guest would notice me, but as long as I was quiet I could remain.  If I ever spoke, the spell was broken and my parents would realize I was there and send me to bed.

So today, I thought of our Lord present at the front of the chapel, facing away from me. If it were a party at my parents' house, I thought, He would of course be one of the guests, one would hope even the Guest of Honor.  He would move around, talking to people, sharing food, telling stories.  And occasionally He would glance down, and a little to the right, and make eye contact.  Maybe wink. But that would be it - He would understand me, recognize me, and even while aware of me protect my presence with His silence.


Thank you, Lord, for helping me understand a little better.