After everyone slowly made their way out, in silence, I sat alone in the reconciliation chapel of the Cathedral unable to move. Sitting in that uncomfortable wooden chair, the back of my head leaning against the thick cement wall, I felt isolated and removed from all existence.

Behind the three foot thick cold cement wall that my head lay against, the 12:10 Mass began with the entrance hymn. At that moment, I felt millions of miles separated me from that Eucharistic celebration. It seemed as if I was paralyzed, unable to move. There I sat, in the reconciliation chapel and just beyond that thick, cold, cement wall, the most extraordinary Wedding feast began. The Bridegroom was about to make His triumphant entrance, and their I was, caught off guard, with no oil for my lamp. Try as I might, to move at least my position in that uncomfortable wooden chair, I felt bound and trapped. The walls around me seemed to grow thicker and taller as the feast began to unfold, leaving me even more cold, isolated and alone.

As the joyful celebration continued, I could hear the festivities echoing through the reconciliation chapel. Oh how I longed to be part of the celebration. At least be a witness to the arrival of the Bridegroom if I could not be the bride. My heart ached in its loneliness. As the moment of the Bridegroom’s arrival approached, the moment of consecration, silence filled the air and it seemed as if all time had stopped. From my chamber, in that silence, I knew what was happening. The miracle of miracles was taking place and I longed to be in His presence yet, I felt so far removed and alone in that silence.

As the communion hymn began, I was swallowed by my sadness as I imagined the procession moving toward the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords. In that moment, I began instinctively praying for all in attendance for the Feast. I prayed that they would come to know Jesus more fully and completely. That they would understand how important it is to be washed clean of impurity so to be dressed in white for the banquet of the Lord.

As the Mass concluded with the sending, my limbs feeling like they were released from their bindings, I began to shift in my chair and reflect on what had just taken place. How alone and far removed from time and space I felt. How clearly I could hear the Mass, but felt so far removed from the Eucharistic celebration. Might this be a bit what hell is like? To be isolated and alone from all? To hear and sense The celebration taking place so close but feeling so cold, far and removed from what I knew to be the Truth? To be in that state for all eternity? All for the cause of sin?

To give away everything, all for the cause of sin.

Rejected By God

My attempt for a weekday reconciliation at the Cathedral in my archdiocese with one priest, one hour before Mass and a rather long, slow moving line, met with profound disappointment for all involved. Read part one – Rejected By God, here.