25th June, 2006

BACK TO THE PAST

Generally speaking, getting prepared to say Mass in St. Joseph’s is a fairly routine matter. As I arrive down to the church, hopefully I already have the homily ready. There’s a need to check out that the various books are open at the right pages; how many hosts are going to be needed; are there servers, readers, cantors, eucharistic ministers there; are the lights on; have the candles been lit etc. (As I’m writing this it’s beginning to sound a little like a pilot going through his check-list before take-off! Maybe not the most inappropriate comparison.)

When I eventually get to the sacristy there are a few more checks to be done – have the microphones been turned on; does the battery in the radio mike need to be changed; have the wine and water and breads been brought down to the back of the church. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t forget a few of these items on any given day. My usual excuse to myself is that there is so much coming and going that I get distracted – but I don’t even convince myself with that excuse.

But last Sunday was different. I definitely was distracted, and with good reason! I was half-way into the cupboard, looking for my alb, when I could hear behind me that somebody had come into the sacristy. Nothing unusual in that – it could be a server, usher, reader, cantor, someone wanting a mass to be said – any number of possibilities. That wasn’t the distraction – it was what I thought I heard next. “Do you mind if I leave my corset here?” “Sorry, I didn’t hear you properly – I was concentrating on getting my alb.” But I had heard correctly, because the request was repeated.

Dare I look ‘round? First of all, I probably hadn’t heard the word being used in a hundred years, and secondly I didn’t think corsets were the kinds of things that one took off in public – at least my great grandmother never did! Was I relieved to discover that it was some sort of medical support for the back that was in question, and that the wearer was finding it uncomfortable in the heat!

But my surprise and subsequent relief was probably as nothing compared with that of the disciples in our gospel this Sunday. Caught out in a relatively small boat in a bad storm on the sea, they were surprised that Jesus looked like He was going to sleep through it all. You can imagine the urgency with which they shook Him to waken Him up. And the question! To Jesus of all people! “Do you not care?” Could there ever be someone more caring?