Praying, sleeping, and grace

“Just as a baby is no less present to his or her mother
when asleep,
so we are no less present to God if we fall asleep in prayer.
Presence is everything; it is more important than words.”

Ron Rolheiser, OMI

In the past month or so, I have found myself falling asleep in the middle of morning prayer. Of course, this is often easy. I’m seated in a great rocking chair and have a freshly-brewed mug of coffee at my side. 

Often I find myself going in and out of sleep, conscious of the presence of God. At times, I have fallen asleep reflecting on a word or phrase from the Psalms or Readings of the day. I awake, feeling refreshed by the short nap – and the words of  scripture.

Last Sunday I went to the afternoon Mass in San Agustín. Most Sundays I try to go to a community in the morning for a Celebration of the Word with Communion. Either before or after this I get to a Mass.

Most Sundays I end up preaching, not just at the Celebrations but also at Mass. Our pastor, Padre German Navarro has at least one Mass on Saturday evenings and then four or five on Sundays. When I began assisting at the Masses as deacon, he would often whisper to me, “You’re prepared to preach?” Now, I make sure I am prepared and, after I proclaim the Gospel, I look out the side of my eyes to see if he is sitting down, waiting for me to preach.

This Sunday I was prepared to preach, but I was not prepared for all that happened.

In San Agustín they had prepared families for the baptism of twenty-five babies and children, between nine months and six years old.

Padre often asks me to baptize the children at Mass, particularly if he has had a lot of Masses that day. So I offered to baptize the children.

Padre arrived late and then spent about an hour hearing confessions, mostly of the parents and god-parents of the children who were going to be baptized.

While he was in the sacristy, hearing confessions, I sat in a chair in a corner at the front of the church – reviewing the rite of Baptism, revising my homily, praying, listening to the choir singing.

As I looked out on the congregation, I was filled with love for the people there. I was filled with joy when I say an older woman in the back of the church singing with the choir.

And I fell asleep. (I did not escape unnoticed by a few people - including the father of one of the kids to be baptized, sitting in the front row.)

After about an hour confessions were over and Mass began.

The Mass, the baptismal rites, and the homily went well – as far as I was concerned.

But there was a special moment during the anointing the children with the oil of catechumens. I bent over to anoint one little boy, about three years old; his response was simple, yet profound, “Gracias” – “Thanks.”  Somehow, he grasped in his heart that this was a moment when the grace of God (la gracia) was present to him. The only response was thanks (gracias).

I was near tears.

Then I baptized the twenty-five kids (which included one set of twins). The catechists had done a great job preparing the parents as well as making sure of the logistics. It was not an assembly line of baptisms, but a care-filled bringing of the child to be baptized. It was also a joyous moment. I saw joy in the faces of so many and I hope my being reflected the joy I had of seeing these children brought to the living waters of baptism. My back ached a little afterwards but my heart was glad.

After Mass, I drove home – to see the almost full-moon over the trees and hills. Another moment of grace.

This is what fills me with joy.

And the only appropriate response is “Gracias a Dios” – “Thanks be to God.”