Since my homeward journey from work has construction, I have been obligated to seek different routes over the past few weeks. Either as a result of the construction or simply how it always is, I find myself waiting in more traffic in parts of town with which I am not as familiar. One road with a bit of traffic has a few places where people often turn and so I try very hard to watch the lights and the movement of traffic in order to not be that person who annoyingly blocks intersections. I get a bit embarrassed when we wind up in completely stopped traffic and a person who could turn cannot because I’m blocking the route.

The other day it worked perfectly. The car next to me knew what they were doing and so when the light turned red, we held back and left plenty of space for vehicles in the opposing lane to turn through and carry on their way. It was nice to be next to a car that was completely stopped, not inching forward or worried that they might be a second delayed or inconvenienced. The light turned green and no cars had yet moved forward, but the car behind me honked and, when I glanced in my side mirror, gestured impatiently for me to go.

I felt a flash of anger. The injustice of being honked at–couldn’t they see that I was letting people through? I perhaps moved my arm upwards with a fling of annoyance. Then I accelerated and was no further behind the next car than if I had been inches from their bumper the entire time.

Once the anger passed, I kept wondering why the person was so impatient. The traffic was all still there. I wasn’t mindlessly on my phone. The second the light turns green doesn’t mean that the 5th or 6th car in line should expect to be moving. Why are we so impatient?

We don’t like to wait. We don’t want to feel like we are getting left behind. We don’t want to feel like our time is wasted or that progress could be made but isn’t. We don’t want to be pointlessly sitting at a light waiting for the people around us to get their act together. And I don’t think any of that is really that deep or profound or unknown.

Today, however, I was at Mass as we commemorated the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross and I experienced a moment of waiting that I hadn’t recognized before. After the homily, I was considering the various crosses in my life and attempting to surrender them to Jesus. Or to at least acknowledge them and continue to hope that Christ’s victory would someday be found in those very places. As I was praying, I noticed what was happening as the priest received the vessels from the server, unfolded the corporal, and poured drops of wine and water into the chalice.

We were waiting.

Continue reading “Preparing the Altar” →