I got my Christmas present early this year. My grandson and his girlfriend came for a visit. It was a blessing, first, because they’re good company. Second, their presence forced me to put up Christmas decorations. I’ve gotten lazy in my old age, and, last year, the only sign of the season at our house was a wreath on the door. In honor of our visitors, though, the house looks and smells special.
As I cleaned and decorated, I realized the price I’ve paid for my sloth. Our mind, body and soul are closely intertwined. Experiences have their greatest impact when all three work together. Last year, my mind took in the Advent readings, and I tried to honor Christ with my soul. My body, though, did nothing to support these efforts. This year, hanging each ornament reminds me of past blessings.
My favorite ritual of the season is lighting the Advent candles. I think that’s a universal pleasure. Jewish women light the candles that begin the Sabbath. Buddhists place a candle in their shrines. For Catholics, candles are part of Mass, most sacraments and intercessory prayers. They declare our belief that Christ is always bringing light to our darkness.
In “The Ear of the Heart: An Actress’ Journey from Hollywood to Holy Orders,” Mother Delores Hart mentions what a difference it made in her growth as a nun to put on, first, a postulant’s habit and, later, the coif of a fully professed Benedictine. She compares it to the way putting on her costume helped her become the character she was portraying in the movies. Clothing her body in a particular way strengthened her spiritual practice.
Our bodies are important to our prayer life. As a child, I learned “kneel to pray, sit to learn and stand to praise.” Our Mass postures generally follow that pattern. This also holds true for my private prayer. I usually drop to my knees when asking God for help. My posture says, “You are the only one who can do this for me. You are the King.” When I’m really ashamed, I lie face down on the floor, acknowledging that I’m dead in sin unless He raises me. I sit comfortably to read Scripture and to meditate. But when I’m full of praise, I can’t possibly sit still. I practically dance my joy.
Our mouths can help or hinder our prayer. When rejoicing, I’ve just got to sing. When repenting, I try to keep silent. (It’s usually my mouth that got me into trouble in the first place!) However, I can’t pray the rosary silently and also focus on the mysteries. Instead I go to www.comepraytherosary.org, so I don’t just hear my own voice. On the other hand, I’m trying to take time to sit in silent prayer each day. I need to give God a chance to reply!
The church wisely includes many physical gestures in her rituals. Blessing myself with holy water marks the transition to and from worship. The tracing of ashes or ointment on my forehead feels like the finger of God. And, of course, I literally take and eat the Body of Christ in the bread and wine.
God gave us bodies so we could fully appreciate his creation. Angels can’t feel the warmth of the sun or the coolness of wind. They can’t make love or bathe a baby. Our bodies enable us to serve, sing and pray in ways the angels can’t know. So precious are bodies that God the Father came to us in a body so that he could embrace us more closely. What a blessing! Merry Christmas.
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo 96720, or email: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
