Full of grace

Six years ago today I was wandering around Paris with my junior year roommate. It was only the second week or so of our trip and we were already sick of each other. We were tired of standing in line, tired of walking, tired of creepy men on subways and tired of one another. We were probably off to the next museum or looking for our standard baguette-and-cheese lunch when our path was cut off by a huge procession of French people singing songs, waving flags and carrying a statue of a woman on their shoulders, like an Egyptian goddess. My roommate and I looked at each other and shrugged. We waited until the crowd tapered off, then we went to find a bench to sit down and argue passive-aggressively about what to do next.

About a month later we made it to my parents' house where we spent three or four days holed up in their basement watching recorded American television shows and recuperating from six weeks of Siamese twinness. I was telling my mom about what we had seen in Paris and she said, "Oh, you were probably there for the Assumption." Then I had to have her tell me what the Assumption is, because I am a poorly catechized nitwit.

(I am vaguely aware that it's things like the Assumption that get non-Catholic Christians all riled up about Catholicism. "It isn't in the BIBLE," they say indignantly. "Show me where Mary gets beamed up to heaven, body and soul, in the BIBLE." Unfortunately for me, Mary's assumption into heaven is not in the Bible, rather it comes from apostolic tradition. (Gak. Did I just go there?))

We are going to church tonight. And we decided to go without having our usual Holy Day of Obligation discussion beforehand, which goes something like this:

Maggie: So tomorrow is a Holy Day of Obligation.
Phillip: Great.
Maggie: [Insert Name of Beloved Television Show] is on that night.
Phillip: I have to do some work tomorrow night.
Maggie: We'll probably fall asleep in the pew anyway.
Phillip: I was thinking about making stirfry for dinner.
Maggie: What's this day anyway?
Phillip: The Ascension? The Assumption? All Saints?
Maggie: One of those 'A' words.
Phillip: I bet Father would notice if we weren't there.
Maggie: He totally would.
Phillip: He's like that.
Maggie: But [Insert Name of Beloved Television Show] is on tomorrow night.
Phillip: ...
Maggie: ...
Maggie: FINE.
Phillip: We should go.
Maggie: We should go.
Phillip: I can't believe they let us be RCIA sponsors.
Maggie: We didn't go the last time. I felt bad.
Phillip: I had to work.
Maggie: You're always working.
Phillip: I had to finish something!
Maggie: But that's what WORK HOURS are for!
Phillip: Um, screwing up at my job will seriously hamper your dream of a life of leisure.

(Ha ha! See what I did there?)

Anyway: shocking! That we did not have this conversation. It was simply understood that I will get home from work, suck down the entire contents of my refrigerator and drive over to the church to meet Phillip who will arrive all sweaty and nasty-like on his bicycle.

I wish I had something more thoughtful to say, but my Mary experience is decidedly lacking. I recently read a book about one woman's devotion to Mary that made me think I should do something about that. In the meantime, in honor of today, the Assumption, and my upcoming trip to Europe (maybe Paris again?) in November, I shall attempt my Hail Mary in French:

Je vous salue, Marie, pleine de grâce.
Le Seigneur est avec vous.
Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes,
et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni.
Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu,
Priez pour nous, pauvres pécheurs,
 maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort.

Comments

[Maureen]

Oh, MAN! I missed it. We were late for church on Sunday so we must have missed the "Tuesday is the Assumption" reminder. Or else they didn't give one. Shoot.

Andrew and I usually find that whenever we *really* don't want to go to church and then drag ourselves anyway because we can't handle the guilt, we're always glad we went. Do you find that too?