Beauty and Worship

Father John Higgins 

Many people think of Heaven as being an experience of floating on a cloud while playing a harp. That sounds horrible to me. I don't like floating on a cloud and I can't play a harp. I think of Heaven as absolute beauty, love and joy. In my imagination we are welcomed into Heaven by all of the people who have loved us since the moment we were born, first Jesus and the saints and our parents and others throughout our lives who loved us, including family and friends. We are filled with joy and laughter and overwhelmed by the intense love of all those who surround us.

Suddenly we realize that we must let go of all that has kept us from joy and love and perfection. We must drop our resentments, fears, memories of bad experiences, lust for money or power or revenge or selfishness. All of this must be released and destroyed, even if we don’t want to let go, we cannot move until we let go of those things and reject them. When we do, we realize that this is what was called “Purgatory when we were in our natural life. We remember some people telling us to let go of these things along with all of our sins. We are suddenly struck with the magnitude of harm and limitations these things have put on us and we rejoice that they are gone. We are  brought to tears of joy and laughter to be relieved of these things we had previously tried to control.  But then a loved one who is absolutely glowing with light says: “Let me show you the next stage, it’s even better than this.” You are amazed that this is possible, but you suddenly see the next stage and are overwhelmed by the joyful surprise you see before you. Before you enter your guide says “There are infinite experiences that keep getting better and better for eternity. But before you proceed you have the honor to welcome a loved one into the first stage. They just came in. Go and tell them how much you love them. We do and there is a joy in watching this person shed their defects of character and begin to experience the joy of God’s Grace cleansing them. Then you see them rejoice beyond anything they have ever known. Then you tell them to take all of the love and experience of that and the people around them to heart and follow you to the next stage.

The next stage is the beginning of perfect worship as we realize that the Son of God, He who is the God of all eternity is our Sacrifice of perfect worship. It is His gift to us. We meet Him in person and experience not only the love that He had for us from His birth, teaching, healing and all of his earthly ministry but the intense love He gave to us in His Sacrifice on the Cross. At that moment we realize that He has given Himself in the flesh to us. He has been with us since the moment we were created in our mother’s womb. He has given us Himself in the Eucharist and we have not always appreciated it fully, but He always smiles understandingly, as we would with a child we loved who didn't understand a lesson we were teaching them until they experienced it for themselves. 

Beauty is a reminder of the ultimate beauty, who is God. Beauty as a reminder of the Angels and saints, including those who live among us. That is the reason a lot of us feel something special when we see something special in nature, whether it’s a small thing like watching children play or the awesome sight of the Grand Canyon, a waterfall or beautiful trees. When we see a beautiful sunrise or sunset or look up into the sky and see the moon and stars. This is natural beauty and we see it also in other people, and sometimes even in ourselves. Whether we see a beautiful and famous person or a person who has his or her natural beauty, these people are reminders to us of the beauty that inspires us to also be beautiful in our own way. I’ve seen both men and women who were beautiful. In men people often call this “handsome”, but I’m talking about something else, something deeper and more important. Let me give you a couple of examples. Besides some of my own family members I have seen great beauty in several women and men. A woman I have known for many years is coming by our Rectory today to pick up some things for her ministry. She sings at some of our Masses and she helps out with Youth Ministry and Confirmation. But there’s more than that. When she is around people she simply makes people comfortable, they smile and they feel the importance of themselves. This woman doesn’t even try, it’s just part of her personality to put people at ease and make them feel welcome and appreciated. She is married with a son who has grown into a fine adult. She simply lives a life of love and joy and spreads it to others. 

The other person is my uncle. For reasons of confidentiality we’ll call him “Uncle Luke”. He was married to my aunt, my own mother’s sister. I have known him since I was in first grade. We lived in South Gate California and he owned a steel manufacturing company which was up the street from where we lived with my aunt Marian. He would come to the house and I was always completely overtaken with respect and a healthy fear of offending him. I was always on my best behavior. If I was doing something that he didn’t like he would simply give me a “look” and I’d stop immediately. He never showed me anger. All of my life I’d see him on special occasions like Christmas or Thanksgiving. I’d also see him when Ernie, my mom and I went to a small Christian Church together. I’d find out later that this Church was largely funded by his estate and still is to this day more than 40 years after his death. After my mom married my step father my uncle paid more attention to me than my step dad.  He knew my step dad and that my home situation was not good. My father had been killed in action in the Korean War. My mother married Ernie when I was a young teen. I needed a strong male figure in my life and my step dad just didn’t know how to do that. But my uncle Luke sure did. He didn’t single me out or have long talks with me, but I knew that he loved me by the way he’d look at me when he approved of what I was doing in my life and how he looked at me when he didn’t. When I was ordained a Priest he and my aunt went to the Ordination and the Reception. When he shook my hand he gave me just what I needed to keep me humble and at the same time to rejoice. He said nothing to me but “Father John”, but his grip on my hand was perfectly strong and gentle. He put his other hand first on my hand and then on my shoulder. There was no hug, but the look in his eyes was perfect. I didn’t know he had just been diagnosed with cancer.

Two years later my aunt called me at my first parish, which was about 20 miles away and told me that my Uncle wanted to talk to me. That made me nervous. I went over before noon the next day dressed in a black suit with my Roman collar. My shoes were shined and my nails clipped and I had a good haircut. I was as ready as I could be as I parked my car in front of the house and walked up to the door. My aunt opened the door for me with tears in her eyes. She hugged me and pointed down the hall to their bedroom. I walked down that hall like I’d done a hundred times before. With a strong sense of conviction, a healthy dose of humility and the  nervousness that always accompanied when I saw him I walked into that room and said: “Hello, Uncle Luke”. He smiled a bit and said: “Close the door and come sit down.” There was a chair next to the bed and so I did as I was told. When I was seated he said: “Father John, you know I’m not Catholic. But I need to confess my sins. Can we do that?” I was shocked beyond belief, and at the same moment honored and amazed that he had asked that. Knowing that there are some circumstances where a Priest can give the Sacraments to someone who is dying and requests them, and probably with a little tear in my eye of both joy and sadness I said: “Yes sir, Uncle Luke” and smiled. So did he and then he confessed his sins with a heart of love for God and hope in His Grace. I explained to him what that Grace is and he smiled and said “That’s what I expected.” We both grinned for a moment and then I explained what a “penance” is, that it’s not a punishment but an encouragement to participate in God’s Grace ourselves with an act of love for God and or for our neighbor. I told him that his penance was to tell my aunt Marian what a wonderful woman she is and how much he loved her. He said: “I do that pretty often.” I smiled and said: “One more time won’t hurt”. We both grinned. 

After Uncle Luke died a week or so later they planned the funeral at that little Christian Church. Of course I went, but I was not the minister for the funeral. The Pastor of that little Church was. I sat next to my other Aunt Joanne and her daughters and husband, my uncle Tommy, all of whom I also respected and loved. They were Catholics. As the funeral service began we were all joyful to be there. My uncle Luke was in a casket in front and it was open. The Minister gave a talk about him, including how he had supported the Church, but then he talked about my uncle’s business successes in the Los Angeles area and in Japan, where he owned another company. He talked about how many houses he owned and what kind of cars he liked and how he dressed and how he had impacted the city of Downey without directly getting involved in politics. I was beginning to wonder if the minister was a Christian when my aunt said: “Johnny, he’s not talking about Jesus or Salvation or our hope of heaven!” Then she dug into her purse and said: “Put this rosary in his hands when we pass by his body at the end of the service!” Some people might be a little apprehensive to do that, but after working in hospitals it was not a big deal to touch the body of someone who had died. And I was up for it because I wasn’t about to be intimidated by the pastor of the little Church. So I did just that. When I was in front of uncle Luke’s body I opened his clasped fingers and put the Rosary in his hands, with the Crucifix facing up. The minister, who was standing there, gave me a “look”. When I was outside with my aunt, uncle and cousins the “Reverend” approached me and asked: “What do you think you’re doing with those beads?” My aunt responded loudly and quickly: “Someone had to bring Jesus into this, you sure didn’t!” My uncle Tommy was ready to defend her and so was I. The minister went back into the Church, hopefully embarrassed and learning a lesson. That was beauty in action as well. 

Beauty as acts we can do in our daily acts of worship, especially the Euchariust and loving service to others. There must be beauty in our private prayers.

When I celebrate Mass I don’t want people looking at me as “John”. I’m not handsome and I don’t wear fashionable clothes.I am not a celebrity looking for applause. I am there to do what Christ told us to do at the Last Supper. This isn’t about me, Fr. John Higgins, the Eucharist is about the beauty of Christ’s Sacrifice made present to us through time and space not only on the Altar of Sacrifice but given to us in Holy Communion, personally and with great love. Other Christians may talk about a “Personal relationship with Christ” and that’s good. But the most personal relationship we can have on earth is to follow what He tells us to do, not to earn His love, but to be completely open to receiving His love in the One Sacrifice of the Cross made present to us. This is why we must do what is most beautiful at this Sacrifice. That doesn’t mean fancy clothes and jewelry, but presenting ourselves in humility, joy and especially our love for Him and our brothers and sisters. When the priest proceeds in, when the prayers are said, when the readings from Scripture are read and everything else should be done in a way that our love is shown. This includes the ringing of bells and the people’s responses. They should never just be flat or hurried repeating words, but words of love. 

The interior of a Catholic Church is meant to be a representation of Heaven. Of course there are some places where we have older beautiful architecture with wonderful stained glass windows, statues and other art that remind us of the events of the Scriptures or the lives of Saints or the Angels who assist God in His Work. But there are some Churches that are very simple according to their budget and resources. The parish I have been for the past 23 years is like that. It’s a low, flat building, and the windows aren’t attractive. But there are some beautiful things in the Church, including the altar, the Tabernacle and a large image of “Our Lady of Guadalupe”, which was donated. But then there's the beauty of the people who come to worship. The smiles, the intentional prayer, the joy of those who worship together and support the various ministries is heartening. 

What can you do in your parish to bring about more beauty? What is our role in serving God and His people?