"Grace is a mighty flood within the reign of God" we sang this past Sunday at the beginning of Mass. It is rare for me to 'hang out' within the body of the congregation, and I revelled in it Sunday. Surrounded by full-throated voices, I felt as if I was in the middle of that "mighty flood" of grace, swept into a joyful mystery by the embodied faith all about me. Fr. Moudry was away on vacation, and it is not unusual for the community to seem a little off-kilter with another priest's leadership--but not so for this 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time gathered throng. The flood of grace flowed from the direction of the nave, and did so vibrantly, confidently.
Walking into the church building that morning, I carried my own ambivalences and frustrations with church as institution, but by the time we were into the middle verse of "We Are Called" at worship's end, I was gladly present as a member of the people of God, the mystical communion, the church called to mission.
How parched my Sunday would have been had I not stood within the mighty flood of grace streaming from the corner of Theodore Wirth and Golden Valley Road.
