At Mass yesterday, the message in the homily was, "God does a lot with a little." Not only did we hear about Jesus feeding the multitudes on nothing but some little boy's lunch, but we also reflected on the commitment of those early apostles. They were not Roman lawyers, Greek philosophers, or Asian mystics, Father D told us, though certainly Jesus could have chosen such apostles had he wished to. No, they were ordinary people: fishermen and tax collectors. Maybe, Father suggested, this is because such people would not let their egos get in the way of Jesus' message.
Ouch. I've been guilty of that one lately. We just came through the Triduum and Easter, which means that it was time for my Semi-Annual Musical Pity Party. I sing and play guitar with the Folk Group. We operate on the "Keep It Simple" theory of liturgical music. Keep it simple, and people will feel welcome to sing along with you. It works for us. But our parish also has an Adult Choir. They like things more complicated and elaborate in that choir. And that's the choir that gets to sing at Christmas, and the Triduum, and Easter.
We didn't get asked to participate in the Triduum in any way. We were not invited to join in with the Adult Choir for the Great Three Days.
And it hurt. Boy, did it hurt. I went to Holy Thursday Mass and really felt it. And since Big Brother was playing at another church on Good Friday, we went to the service there. By the time the Easter Vigil rolled around, I was so completely upset that I even skipped the Easter Fire. I just didn't think I could be there without losing it entirely. Even on Easter morning, I was having a rough time.
"You'll feel better after you go to Mass and sing," TheDad assured me. And he was right. I needed to get there, put on my guitar, and belt out the Gloria with everything I could muster. After that, I did feel a lot better.
This is all about humility, really. It all boils down to God doing a lot with a little. Our Folk Group may not have been asked to do anything at all for the Great Three Days. But Sunday after Sunday when we're there at 12:00 Mass, we give it our all. We're not always pitch-perfect, and sometimes a guitarist will (loudly) strike the wrong chord. Yet when we sing the Gloria, we mean it. And people are singing the Gloria with us. That's what we're there for.
It's time for me to let go of the feeling of resentment that we're not "good enough" for the Triduum and just rejoice in the fact that we help people pray though music, Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. Maybe we just have a little talent, but if we get out of the way, God can do a lot with it.