So I've been complaining a lot lately.
But to be fair, I've been feeling WEEEIRD since I've been home. It wasn't until tonight that I remembered where I always feel at home, always loved, always understood.
It's not the Old Dundee Bar. It's not the Underwood Bar.
Wait for it...
Lower Saint John's.
... pause for the anticipated eye roll from my non-religious/anti-religion friends...
Lower Saint John's is the small chapel underneath Saint John's Church, the heart of Creighton University's campus. It's got all the old furniture no one uses anymore and it's walls are just removable partitions. But each one of those 30 seats is filled with someone who chose to be there. Bluejays t-shirts, scrubs, workout clothes, business suits. Come as you are.
You know, I don't go to church a lot when I'm not home. I tried in Thailand, but there were only two Catholic churches, both of which were a bit too missionary for my tastes. I went to a few Jesuit Masses in India, but as I wrote in my blog, I didn't dig that scene either.
There has to be a level of trust built in for me to really open up and accept the homily and the gospel, and I have turned out to be not very trusting of religious communities I don't know. But I trust all the Creighton Jesuits with my spiritual life one hundred percent.
I was working in Fr Doll's office today when I heard my dad looking for me around the Jesuit house. He walked in and invited me to Mass with him.
And right when I walked in, I breathed a little easier. I listened as well as I could (it's hard for my mind not to wander). And gave the sign of peace to people, hugged my dad. I took the Eucharist and sat, with that familiar taste of wine and wheat on my tongue, closed my eyes and gave thanks.
Thanks Creighton Jesuits, for welcoming home without knowing it.
But to be fair, I've been feeling WEEEIRD since I've been home. It wasn't until tonight that I remembered where I always feel at home, always loved, always understood.
It's not the Old Dundee Bar. It's not the Underwood Bar.
Wait for it...
Lower Saint John's.
... pause for the anticipated eye roll from my non-religious/anti-religion friends...
Lower Saint John's is the small chapel underneath Saint John's Church, the heart of Creighton University's campus. It's got all the old furniture no one uses anymore and it's walls are just removable partitions. But each one of those 30 seats is filled with someone who chose to be there. Bluejays t-shirts, scrubs, workout clothes, business suits. Come as you are.
You know, I don't go to church a lot when I'm not home. I tried in Thailand, but there were only two Catholic churches, both of which were a bit too missionary for my tastes. I went to a few Jesuit Masses in India, but as I wrote in my blog, I didn't dig that scene either.
There has to be a level of trust built in for me to really open up and accept the homily and the gospel, and I have turned out to be not very trusting of religious communities I don't know. But I trust all the Creighton Jesuits with my spiritual life one hundred percent.
I was working in Fr Doll's office today when I heard my dad looking for me around the Jesuit house. He walked in and invited me to Mass with him.
And right when I walked in, I breathed a little easier. I listened as well as I could (it's hard for my mind not to wander). And gave the sign of peace to people, hugged my dad. I took the Eucharist and sat, with that familiar taste of wine and wheat on my tongue, closed my eyes and gave thanks.
Thanks Creighton Jesuits, for welcoming home without knowing it.
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