3 Secrets to Heaven: Humility, Humility, & Humility

The older I get, I notice the passage of time in small bits of daily life more than anything else.  My hair disappears a little more; extra physical activity reminds me that I'm not a teenager; although I think of myself as sort of young at heart and cool, the reality is that I'm a 35 year-old that can't stand some of the trends that the kids like these days.  New Years' Eve used to be more of a benchmark for me than it is now; it was a big deal and an occasion to party.  Mind you, partying for me in college was getting together with my friends to play Goldeneye on Nintendo 64.

In my advanced age, I now look at New Years' Eve as a pseudo-Friday night.  The first of the year is a national holiday (=no work!!!) and this year it was a welcome break in the middle of the week.  What impacted me most for New Years' this time around wasn't getting together with friends, watching anything, or playing video games.  It was going to Mass on the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.  As we knelt during the creed--"and by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man"--I attempted to pray that as humbly as I could.  I pictured myself in front of our Blessed Mother, profoundly bowing as an attendant at a royal court (without all the frilly clothes and funny hats).

Holy return on investment, Batman, you'd think I'd never prayed a humble prayer before in my life.  It set the interior tone for me the rest of Mass, and a subtle, embering joy filled me.  It was awesome!    

Then I recalled having a similar experience at the 9 p.m. Christmas Eve (a.k.a. midnight) Mass.  As I was screeching singing in the choir, I had the joyful feeling that I was joining my voice to that of the angels in heaven.  I praised God with the angels, as if they were standing right next to me!   As weak/small/unworthy/so on as I am!

The result?  I cantored the Psalm and it was the best cantoring I'd ever done in four or five years.  I was confident (I always get nervous cantoring), I didn't hit too many off notes (can't hit 'em all), and I wasn't stressed (which I am every time I do it).  Singing the rest of the Mass filled me with that same subtle joy.  Here again, it was a humble prayer that set the spiritual tone.

I'm very thankful for those experiences, on a few levels.  First, I'm glad for the experience themselves.  I may verbally participate in the Mass every week, but I hadn't interiorly participated in Mass like that in a while.  Probably longer than I care to admit...  Second, for all the talk of a sublime joy, I have an awful lot of subtle pride.  I consider myself a good guy, and not arrogant in the stereotypical jerk way.  Not all proud people/actions are complete jerks!  Third and finally, I have something to push toward and a virtue to cultivate.