As people began coming up to light their candles - some hesitant, over-awed, unsure, others clearly at home or at least sure of what to do - I wondered at the effect on them of these few minutes; this unexpected ushering into a hushed, reverent church lit only with the tiny flames and rippling reflections of dozens of tea lights. And I wondered, too, at the effect of being ushered, knowingly or unknowingly, into the Eucharistic Presence at the heart of it all.
|Photo by Moira Low Ching, Newman Catholic Society - used with permission|
And thus she remained, in her furious bubble, until the very end, when, as the priest raised the monstrance, her face softened and she fell to her knees, remaining there long after other worshippers had departed.
Whatever it was that Mabel had seen in that Benediction, whatever had touched and spoken to her heart, remained a closely guarded secret, shared only with a few. We can only guess, knowing that contained with that plain, fragile, tiny wafer is a power born of love, strong enough to melt even the fiercest resistance and bring us all to our knees.
And so I asked Mabel to join me in praying for all those coming to Nightfever; that God, whether bidden or unbidden, might be truly present to us all, touching our hearts with the power of his self-giving love, filling us with the radiance and joy of his undying Presence.