Not About Me*

*For from Him and through Him and for Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen (Romans 11:36).

            It's all about Jesus. Always has been. Always will be.

            It always should be.

            I ought to think of that before I start complaining about His business. Like the Mass, for example.

            My wife and I had hardly left the sanctuary one Sunday morning before I groused about the service. “I wish we’d sing modern choruses instead of centuries-old hymns . . . I thought the priest could have made a stronger point about that Gospel passage . . . I’d like it better if we knelt for prayer . . . I wonder why . . ."

            Then I noticed my emphasis: I wish. I thought. I’d like. I wonder. My problem became disturbingly clear: I think the Mass – even life, if I’m honest – is all about me.

            Well, it’s not. The Mass, and all we do before and after we come into His presence is about the One through whom all things were made ‑ heaven, earth, mountains, seas . . .  It’s about Jesus, through whom I receive reconciliation to the Father, forgiveness and redemption.

            “For by Him all things were created,” wrote St. Paul, “both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities – all things have been created through Him and for Him. . . And in Him you have been made complete . . . having been buried with Him in baptism, in which you were also raised up with Him through faith in the working of God, who raised Him from the dead” (Colossians 1:16; 2:10-12 NASB).

            I can't help but notice Scripture’s emphasis: By Christ; through Christ; for Christ; in Christ; with Christ.

            Not a thing in there about me.

            Perhaps if I entered the Eucharistic Celebration centered more on Him and less on me, I wouldn’t be so quick to grumble. If I cultivated a deeper relationship with Christ through the week, I wouldn't be bored with that holy hour on Sunday. If I meditated on the Mass readings before I left for church, the Holy Spirit might have more kindling to spark my passion for the Mass. If I entered the sanctuary early enough to pray, my heart would be ready to worship long before the Celebration began.

            When I focus on me, it's easy to find fault with the priest, the choir, the temperature, the baby crying in the back. When my focus is on Him – through whom all things were made – then all things fall into proper perspective.

*from my first book, We Believe: Forty Meditations on the Nicene Creed -- which still needs to be revised according to the update translation