Signs of Each Moment

 

Signs of Each Moment

I have always been one who is a bit cautious about seeing signs; touchstones that help draw one to an awareness of something spiritual.  I think it can diminish the significance of the moment to assign meaning to something that may actually be nothing more than coincidence.  Still, if something truly does draw our attention to look for God in the moment, there may be no harm, and in fact, there may be some benefit for seeing with the searching eyes of faith rather than skepticism. I had two such experiences this past week.

My spiritual sensitivity was at a heightened level already because my wife Michelle and I were on a religious pilgrimage to some of the great Marian sites in Portugal, Spain and France.  On this particular day we were in Lourdes, France where Mother Mary appeared to Bernadette Soubirous several times in 1858.

The first sign came that morning when we celebrated Mass in the Grotto where Mary appeared.  I was blessed to be the deacon serving that day.  Just as Father began praying the Eucharistic Prayer, a single dove landed on the branch of a little bush that grows out of the overhang of the Grotto, just about 10 feet or so above the altar .  The dove did not sing, but he was looking down towards the altar.  The dove flew off just as the Eucharistic Prayer ended.  After the Mass I asked the three priests who had concelebrated the Mass if any of them noticed the dove, but none of them had.  Later, at breakfast, I shared the event with the other 46 pilgrims in our group; none of them had seen the dove either.  It could either be that I was the only one not paying attention, or that I was the only one who did pay attention.  Or, the dove perhaps was just meant for me, but he looked physically real to me.

The second sign came after lunch that same day.  Our group prayed the Way of the Cross.  The path with the stations at Lourdes switchback up a very steep hill.  It is a demanding trail that helps one experience a tiny fraction of the suffering that Christ endured.  We were praying the 10th station that recalls when Jesus was stripped of his garments before being nailed to the cross.  As a fellow pilgrim was reading the explanation of the station and the associated prayers, I noticed that right in the middle of the hard-packed path that we were walking, there was a single deep purple violet in bloom.  It was tiny, perhaps just an inch or two high.  There weren’t any leaves, just a single stem with the flower.  As it was in the middle of the path that even on the afternoon we walked it, hundreds of people passed by, I wondered how did it escape someone unknowingly stepping on it?  The color was purple, the color of Jesus’ passion.  The color of Jesus’ royal divine nature.  Did this flower grow there to be the Christ’s new garment?  It was humble enough; it was certainly beautiful enough.  Maybe feeling a little challenged by being the only one in our group to notice the dove earlier, I did point it out to Father Grant before we moved on to the next station.

Since all was created through him, and all was created for him, perhaps we are always surrounded by signs of God’s nearness, if we take note of them.

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan

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