"i don't want to go to mass anymore."

A couple days after I got back from Mexico City, back in March, Colin and I decided that we were going to go home for a week or so while the world figured out this whole pandemic situation.

The night before we left, we went to mass, like we did so many nights. During my mission trip, Father had filled my heart with a deeper love for Jesus in the Eucharist, and I was moved to tears during this particular mass. I couldn't stop thinking: what if this was the last time I received Jesus for a long time?

Well, y'all know how the story ends. It was.

I ended up being back in the Midwest for over two months, and didn't receive Jesus once in that time. TV mass was weird, and I didn't like it. I felt like I was in a funk, and seriously longed for the glory of the mass.

When the time rolled around for me to move back down to Florida to start working full time, mass became open to the public again.

Mass was in a freezing cold auditorium. No music. Harsh lights. Up on a stage, far away. Masks and social distanced from people. But still, Jesus.

I cried, experienced profound love and devotion, and took a selfie with my mask and posted on Instagram about it (as one does).

Here's an excerpt from what I wrote that day: "It's not about feeling an emotion when we receive Him, but I'm so consoled by the fact that He's still coming and He's still drawing me up into His heart. The beauty of the priesthood and of the prayers of the Church...I don't want it to ever be mundane. I kept thinking about Song of Songs, when the woman seeks for her lover and cannot find him. That's what these past months have felt like: constant seeking. And here He is, back again, because there's no replacement for the mass. He's been in control the whole time."

Lots of people wrote a lot of beautiful, heart-felt things. After months of talking about how we all longed for the mass, we were finally back again. Whole families going to church together multiple times a week, and being so excited to have some normalcy. It was beautiful.

Now, here we are, some of us two months later, and it's not popular to gush about the mass anymore.

The mass, for many of us, feels unfamiliar. Perhaps even cold and stale. There's no music, and no warmth of community. It's hard to sit still and focus, when you grew used to your couch and coffee. There isn't a grand display of emotion on your end, and nothing is dramatic. There's no music, and homilies are hard to follow along. Masks are annoying and distracting, and make your ears itch.

And the dispensation has been extended, so you don't really need to go.

It's hard to want it, sometimes, when what we've known feels so distant.

It's hard to know the simplicity, the power, the glory of the mass, when it's held up to the held lines that make-up our social media feeds. Reports of extreme violence and human injustice, and more coming every single day, with the end to this pandemic nowhere in sight. There's so much confusion; and it almost hurts to turn your brain on to start to process it all. Apathy is easier.

BUT HERE'S THE DEAL.

There is sickness, injustice, violence, and chaos that is GROWING like crazy in this country. There are movements that are masquerading as truth, but sowing lies and division rather than the unity that comes from true justice. We have lost our grounding as a moral people; it's easier to get swept up in the wave of emotion that is on social media right now than to read up on facts and take it to prayer.

We need the mass more than ever.

We need the mass, even as it is, stripped to its bare bones.

We need the mass, especially when we're feeling uncomfortable and lazy, and aren't used to having to participate.

We need the mass, because there is a spiritual war that is going on, and you were created for such a time as this.

Don't think your voice has power? Don't think your prayers have power? That's what the enemy wants you to think, so you stay off your knees.

It does not matter what 2020 has held for us. It does not matter what our emotional states currently are; we need the mass. And this world? It needs Jesus Christ alive in us.

There are days that I don't want to go to mass, and it's literally right next door to my office. It's in a freezing auditorium, and there's always a million other things that I could be doing. There are people that complain about going to mass, and people who just choose to not because they can, due to the dispensation.

Guess what?

It does not matter whether or not we want to go to mass. We need to be going to mass.

Let's take it a step further. We need to be doing more than going to mass: we need to be actively participating. We need to allow our hearts to be part of the mass. And when we get distracted? We need to come back. Even if it's a thousand times, we need to come back.

It matters, and it's worth it.

I'm not going to get into all the politics of whether or not we should have suspended public masses in the first place; that doesn't matter to me, because that's the past, and we're in the future. Here's the truth about right now: the enemy wants to keep us out of churches because he knows the power that comes from God's people, coming together and participating in the highest form of prayer possible.

One of the most beautiful things about the Catholic Church is that we've never been focused on entertainment or presentation. When we have, in terms of the mass, things have gotten a little whack...but the beauty is that the power of the mass has nothing to do with good preaching or music; it has everything to do with the Presence of Jesus.

If you're disheartened, get your butt to mass.

If you're empty, get your butt to mass.

If you're not feeling anything at all, get your butt to mass.

Maybe we also need to stop feeling awkward talking about the mass with people-- asking them, maybe, what their takeaway was from mass Sunday? Or if they're struggling to stay focused?

Regardless of what we feel, when we receive Him, we grow closer to Him. We come to know the movements of his heart better, even if we're unaware of it. The reality is that by participating in the mass and receiving Jesus, we become more like Him.

We don't need answers, we need Jesus. That is not me saying don't read the news or wonder or have good conversations; that's me saying that we need Jesus, and everything else follows.

And where is He more present than in the mass? See you in the Eucharist, friends.