Osler's Razor

Today I went to Catholic mass, at the big cathedral church by the lake, St. Paul's. As I have written before, going to Catholic church is an odd and often very good experience for me.

One moving part of the Catholic service for me is the Eucharist. Because I am not Catholic, I don't participate. I step into the aisle to let others pass, and then kneel alone in the pew. That moment is when I am perhaps most Christian. For that little slice of time, I get the rare opportunity to be an outsider, observably different and unworthy. In a way, none of us are worthy of God's grace, and that moment reminds me of that fact more than any other. I have come to treasure it, really, even look forward to it.

This morning, there was a little girl two rows in front of me. She was perhaps two or three, wearing an adorable green dress and a bow in her hair. She clutched a pink bunny by the ears and bounced it up and down; the bunny was holding an Easter egg and a goofy grin. She would stand on the pew and look back at me, right into my eyes, and smile and try to get my attention, and then flop down with her bunny.

When it came time for communion, of course, Little Girl did not participate, either. She went up in her mother's arms, baggage really, and returned as I knelt in place. There is a reason small children don't take communion-- they do not understand the theology or meaning of it, really, have not learned or read enough about what is allowed and not allowed. If a child took communion, it would perhaps just be a sweet drink in a big place with the warmth of God in it.

"Just be?"

I am not ashamed to stand with Little Girl, humbled, and come to Jesus as a child.