Midnight Mass Alone

Just got home from midnight mass at the Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Assumption aka St Mary's Cathedral in SF. Beautiful place. High soaring ceilings... And the archbishop gave the Xmas sermon, which was a nice touch. In fact, as luck would have it, he was the one who gave me my personal blessing during communion (which I didn't partake in since I'm not Catholic). Anyway, I attended midnight mass alone out of the blue because I just felt it was the right thing to do this year. Don't ask me why. So I went. Alone. I had a very good time just being around all those anonymous strangers, spending the bridging minutes between Dec 24th and Dec 25th sitting on a wooden bench next to two people I had never met in my life. There's something very "freeing" about doing that. It just felt like the right thing to do.

Some thoughts that came into my head as I was sitting there on last row of pews...

The Innkeeper who Broke Down

The Archbishop told a tale of a boy (Danny) at a Christmas school production of Christ's birth. Danny was the innkeeper who was supposed to reject Joseph and Mary when they asked if there was any room at the inn. His role was to say "There is no room" three times in response to Joseph's pleading.

The first time, Danny delivered his line strongly and resolutely. "There is no room!"
The second time, after Joseph pleaded a little, Danny hesitated somewhat, but still delivered his line... "There is no room!"
The third time, Joseph pleaded his heart out. Danny hesitated. And hesitated. And he suddenly broke into tears and blurted out, "You can have my room"

A simple kindness by a child that moved me. Makes me wonder how many times in my life I have pushed people away thoughtlessly, when all I had to do was be a little more creative to find a solution that could accommodate everyone. And more fundamentally, I question my own WILLINGNESS to help. Sometimes, I know I really can't be bothered enough to care.

The Man who Gave Money

I was walking home from Union Square on Xmas eve. As I was at the intersection, a homeless guy wrapped in a tattered blanket walked across my path. There was another very well dressed young man standing there. The well dressed young man stopped the homeless guy, reached into his pocket and gave him some money. The homeless guy said he couldn't accept it, but the young man insisted and wished him a merry Christmas. I felt very touched watching such a display of humanity in a city that typically ignores its homeless.

Doing It For Good

"...whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me" - Matthew 25:40
Just a reminder that whatever I choose to do with my skills and abilities, what I do has an impact that reverberates out beyond my immediate vicinity. Ripples in a pond. A reminder that "What we do in life echoes in eternity" - Maximus, The Gladiator

Peace

From http://torch.op.org/preaching/sermon/297:
'Peace' is a word which looms large in the Christian vocabulary. 'Peace be with you' is the greeting that Jesus gives to his disciples when he comes and stands among them in today's Gospel, and he repeats the phrase as the disciples rejoice when they recognise him on that first Easter Sunday evening. He uses an identical greeting when he comes to them again eight days later. Earlier, in the course of his farewell address to his closest friends before his passion and death, Jesus had told them not to let their hearts be troubled at his going away: 'Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you'; but he added 'not as the world gives do I give to you'(Jn. 14:27). Again, he says to them, 'I have said this to you so that you may have peace.'(Jn. 16:33)

And from an IM chat just today:
Friend: how do you measure happiness?
DL: uh.... you are or you're not... most often, you're somewhere in between
DL: but you just accept where you are
DL: the less you accept it, then more unhappy you get
DL: conversely speaking, the more you accept it, the happier you are

Lately, I've been more at peace with who I am and what I am inside. That's made a world of difference.