The “Singing Nuns” confers blessings in Carrion de los Condes, Spain, in September 2024.
By Kim Novak
Unfolding Spirit
As a Eucharistic minister on Sunday mornings, I arrive at church with a sense of anticipation. Perhaps some of this feeling arises from inner musings that sound like: “Don’t fall! Don’t trip! Don’t drop anything!” (I’m as clumsy as they come, so this is real!) But as I’ve become more confident in my ability to walk in front of others, the anticipation within is more about encounter.
As I lift the host, a visible sign and remembrance of Christ incarnate in everything, and profess, “The body of Christ,” my inner voice goes on to add, “YOU are the body of Christ.”
I see Christ in each face: the old, the young and everyone in between; the meek reverently resting their gaze on their palms, and those looking me straight in the eye with their “Amen.” So be it. Blessing conferred and received.
And then there are the littles: those gathering in the shadows of the communion line, arms crossed over their chests in a bear hug, proceeding forward as a part of the body. Many jostle their way in front of a sibling or two to be sure and get their blessing first. A few require a gentle nudge. The eyes that look up seeking blessing are joyous and vulnerable.
Whether in the form of physical sacrament, words of blessing, or both, this hunger is in all of us.
Along the Camino route in Spain lives a group of Augustinian sisters known as the “Singing Nuns.” Each day after the Pilgrim Mass at Iglesia de Santa Maria, they sing and offer blessings to all who seek one. As Tom and I stood in line there two years ago, we found ourselves surprised as people pushed and elbowed their way forward, photographing and videoing the event, and tearfully sitting in prayer afterwards. After my quick bit of annoyance at the elbowing subsided, my heart softened and filled as I recognized that each of these pilgrims, from many faiths, backgrounds and countries, were so very, very hungry for blessing.
If you’re the founder of the gang intervention program Homeboy Industries, the hunger for blessing from former gang members sounds like, “Hey G. Give me a bless, yeah?” Father Greg Boyle consents with love, placing his hands upon their head, and they feel their “cherished belonging.”
And as I think a little further back, I recall my father-in-law’s funeral Mass in a small Wisconsin town. After the service, my brother-in-law, a non-Catholic, gay man, confessed, “Especially at a time like this, I just wish we could all be at the table together.” His hunger for communion and blessing remained strong and unfed.
What is the root of this “blessing” and encounter we hunger for?
Henri Nouwen, priest, writer and theologian, said, “To give a blessing is to affirm, to say ‘yes’ to a person’s belovedness. And more than that: to give a blessing creates the reality of which it speaks…A blessing touches the original goodness of the other and calls forth their belovedness.”
As Jesus began his ministry, the skies opened up and the Spirit, in so many words, said, “You are my beloved; in you I take delight!” Following baptism, Jesus’ sojourn in the desert was perhaps a time to steep in this gaze of delight; emerging with an ability to both face the temptations of the world, and heal others by calling forth their belovedness.
How would our encounters change if we were to approach each person first with the intention of bestowing blessing? How different would our world look if each of us lived with a heart-knowing that not only does God love us, God delights in us?
And yet there sometimes is a scarcity mindset around the willingness to bless. We deny and limit blessings to those who may experience life differently than ourselves, substituting morality rules and judgement for the Love of God. We often lack curiosity and fall back into dogmatic ways of thinking. This was not the way or generosity of Jesus.
Both Jesus and the Church call us “to be a blessing and to bless” one another (CCC no. 1669). Jesus tells us, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (Jn 10:10). I choose to live in this abundance, trusting in our original goodness. As the hands, feet, ears and voice of Christ, let us show up as hungry for blessing as the child in the communion line, and let us be the ones reminding one another of our belovedeness.
God delights in the unique incarnation of you.
(Kim Novak is a member of St. Thomas More Parish in Coralville.)
