Chapter 9

Distraction


He made his Act of Contrition as the priest consumed the sacred offerings. Soon he began his move up the aisle and automatically glanced around, catching himself in the distraction, reminding himself where he was headed. But distractions have a way of interfering with good intentions. To the side there was an attractive young lady, curvaceous in her fitted top and jeans. That was a distraction from his mission that was harder to cast aside and turn his mind to his own Communion.

Casey Gilliam was somewhat old-fashioned when it came to the Church. He still received the Sacrament on his tongue, eschewing the post Vatican Council acceptance of receiving the Host on the extended left hand, palm up. Priests of the old school discouraged the accepted manner, fearing – with some validity – that some might save the Host till later, secret it and then use it for some sacrilege in order to “punish” the Church for its stands, such as against gay marriage. Noticing an altar boy, Casey remembered his days of serving Mass at Sacred Heart Church at Notre Dame. His motives might not have been as admirable as they might seem because, after Mass, the sacristan, irreverently nicknamed Brother Tabernacle Key, would hand the servers a chit for breakfast or brunch at the Huddle. Casey had his server credentials revoked for spending five bucks on brunch. That much money was a fortune back then.

Back in his pew, he began his thanksgiving:
Jesus, thank you for your presence. I am not worthy of your presence. Help me to love you and as You love me. I’ve not always been who You wished me to be. Help me to be that person. Help me with your grace. Oh there’s that girl again. No don’t think of her. Think of your Savior. It’s so hard to keep concentrated on your presence. Living up to the faith is hard. You have the whole world to worry about. No, I guess You don’t worry. You told us not to worry just as the sparrow doesn’t worry. Now where was that in the Gospel? I know I’ve heard it. Don’t worry and the Lord will handle it. Sounds good; hard to do. The lilies in the field …. how does that go? Not many fields of wild flowers anymore. Some wildflowers along I-95. Yeah in North Carolina. Some in Virginia. I guess other places. Not to worry. So hard. Jesus, I need to trust in You. Help me. Jesus I trust in You. Pray always. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Impossible! The Morning Offering that might do it. Praying. Do I pray enough? Help me to pray. Please. Does that Hispanic-looking guy pray in Spanish? The whole world prays in some language. How many in English? Will we pray in heaven? Can I get to heaven? Where is heaven? Somewhere in the universe. It’s got to be a place. The Blessed Mother got there with her body. She was assumed into heave. Dead or alive. We don’t know. It’s got to be somewhere. Jesus ascended into heaven. Must be in this universe. This galaxy? The Earth is in the exurbs of the Milky Way That’s what somebody said. Out among all those stars, planets, asteroids, black holes. Stars. Millions. No, billions of stars. Billions and billions. Who said that? Some comedian imitating Carl Sargen... Carl Segar. No, Sagat. Sagan. Sagan. That’s it. Whatever, billions. Guess only God could do that. Sagan was an atheist. How could he be? What about design. The Great Watchmaker. Who called God that? Pope John Paul? No that was the Jewelry Store or Jewelry Shop or whatever was the play’s name. A pope who wrote plays, acted in plays. That’s an accomplishment for anyone, and pope, pontiff, too. Vicar of Christ. Wonder if JP2 ever thought about a play dealing with Creation? Off track again. Please, Jesus help me thank you. Eucharist means thanksgiving. All mankind should be thankful. You saved all . . . all of us. All human beings. Did you save others, aliens? Do people live --- not, not people – beings live elsewhere in the universe, this conglomeration unimaginable large bodies floating in a space so vast who can picture it? Galaxy after galaxy! Gotta be some living things, something like people, out there in that vastness somewhere. Somewhere. Sure God, if he created us humans just for playthings. .. No He wouldn’t do that. God is too serious. But, surely, He would not create just one kind of beings, beings that think and invent things, and will things, and go against his will like Adam and Eve. God is too great to plant people on just one tiny speck in a sea of nothing filled with so many places, places He could use for all kinds of beings. It just has to be There must be places that hold beings that can think and invent and philosophize like humans, yet that doesn’t mean they have to look like human beings. Would such a race, or whatever they would be called, have an Adam and Eve, beings that would revolt and sin? The angels revolted, at least some angels. The devil and his demons. Are there beings like them? Or maybe Satan and his kind occupy one of those billions of flotsam in the universe. But suppose God put creatures completely different somewhere in another galaxy and they did not revolt and they followed His will and are living idyllic lives, lives we could have had not Adam and Eve screwed up. Or there are creatures that used their free wills and did revolt; did Jesus go there too as a Redeemer? If He did not have to redeem them, do they still go to heaven? Do they die? Where is heaven? It is a place. It’s up, up from here. But where can that be? There certainly is room for it in such a vast, vast space . . . universe. What a creation. Just can’t really imagine it. What was it I read about Einstein? He said something like the universe was the result of a great, rational mind. God …

Casey was brought back to the moment. “Let us pray,” the priest intoned as the last prayer of the Mass was about to begin.