April 6, 2018 at 1:53 p.m.
REFLECTION
Prayer and the cathedral
I can go days without praying, except for community prayers during Mass. Most of my personal prayers are more conversations with God than formal prayers. Usually, I'm asking for a favor. Sometimes, we argue - and He, of course, always wins.
I feel bad about praying only when I'm asking for a favor, but I guess it's human nature to set God aside for a while - sometimes, for quite a while - and then call on Him when we need something. I've often wondered how He feels about that. I can't picture the God I believe in saying, "Oh, sure, I don't hear from you and now, when you need a favor, you're calling on me? Sorry, not interested, Richard."
Some of my Catholic friends have told me they've given up on prayer. They submit that it is better for the human spirit if we solve our own problems. I haven't bought into that philosophy, although God hasn't always fulfilled my requests - at least, not in a way that makes sense to me. But I'm not ready to give up on prayer.
The Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception has been my parish for 65 years. My home is within a stone's throw of two other parishes, but I drive miles each Sunday to attend Mass at the cathedral. Whenever I'm at another church, I feel out of place.
Many of my friends and family do not attend Mass, not even on holy days, Christmas and Easter. Sometimes we talk about going - or not going - to Mass. I tell them that hour on Sunday morning is the best hour of the week for me.
My relationship with the cathedral goes back a long time. I attended Cathedral Academy from third grade on; our classes attended holy day and Lenten First Friday Masses at the cathedral. I became an altar boy in fourth grade and remained one through high school.
The highlight of my altar boy days was the centennial of the cathedral in the 1950s. Cardinal Francis Spellman came to officiate at the Mass. I was quite young, but I was very fortunate to be selected as train-bearer for the cardinal. He had a very long, very heavy train I had to carry behind him: down Madison Avenue, over Eagle Street, up the long center steps into the cathedral and down the center aisle. Whenever Cardinal Spellman had to make a turn, I had to do the same, at quite a distance in back of him - and the two of us had to move in unison. Fortunately, all went well.
The cathedral has remained a constant in my life for decades. I remember, on weekday mornings, when there would often be two or three Masses being celebrated simultaneously, using the high altar and one or more side altars. I've served at Masses, weddings and funerals. I've become friends with dozens of priests. I've prayed at the cathedral's life-sized Stations of the Cross. I've visited the bishops' burial vaults downstairs. I've been in the choir loft, where Mr. Fitzgerald conducted the cathedral boys' choir. I went to confession hundreds of times in the old wooden confessionals. As a lector, I've done readings from the high pulpit.
To me, the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception always has been and always will be home. Prayer and the cathedral are inextricably interwoven for me. The cathedral inspires me to pray - and, when I do, in that beautiful gothic home of His, I sense His presence and I know that He is listening.[[In-content Ad]]
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