One day last week during daily Mass, just as the priest was about to begin the Eucharistic prayer, there was a clatter at the side door. This door opens onto the sidewalk and is always locked from the outside.
It happens every so often that someone tries to get in that door, figures out that it is locked, and without further ado walks around to the main entrance. This time, however, the door continued to rattle and there was a clamor of voices — or at least what sounded to me like several voices.
What was going on? Was the building on fire? Had the construction workers next door dropped a slab of concrete on a row of cars in the parking lot? Were incompetent terrorists staging an invasion?
Everything inside halted as all attention was focused on that door. Finally Father nodded to the server, who left the altar and pushed the door open, apparently undaunted by a possible invasion. And in came, not terrorists, nor a group of construction workers confessing to flattening our vehicles, but a single weary middle-aged woman using a walker. She found a nearby pew and sat down. Our priest, only slightly discombobulated, began the Eucharistic prayer.
Lord you are holy indeed,
the fountain of all holiness.
Let your Spirit come upon these gifts
to make them holy,
so that they may become for us
the body and blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Now, I ask you: was this incident a disruption of the sacred liturgy? Or was it an irruption of the sacred in the midst of the liturgy?
My first thought was that it had been a disruption. I was annoyed. The flow of the mass had been interrupted, not to mention the fact that I generally just don’t like clatter.
My second, reflective thought was that the sacred had irrupted in our midst. I remembered the words of Jesus from the book of Revelation:
Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me. (3:20)
Yes, I know this was not only a standing and a knocking, but also a rattling and a calling out; but sometimes Jesus has to go to extremes to get our attention. And yes, I know that the one who entered and ate with us was a woman with a walker; but we also have these words of Jesus:
Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. (Matthew 25:40)
O Jesus,
Teach us to be mindful and awake,
Always waiting for you,
That we may not be heedless to your appearing.