Seized With Mortal Anguish

Queen Esther, seized with mortal anguish, had recourse to the LORD.

She lay prostrate upon the ground, together with her handmaids, from morning until evening, and said: “God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob, blessed are you. Help me, who am alone and have no help but you, for I am taking my life in my hand.”

It’s funny how the mind works sometimes. As part of my Lenten observance, I’ve been attending daily Mass during lunchtime four times a week. It’s a small affair, as most daily Masses are. Although this liturgy is ostensibly held by Seattle’s downtown Christ Our Hope parish, it actually takes place in a small chapel at Plymouth Congregational Church, about three block from my work.

The setting is quite intimate – the chapel looks as though it may have begun life as a baptistry. It’s round, and a temporary altar is set up each day in the centre.

In the days I’ve been going, we’ve had a different priest each day. The congregation, which typically numbers 35 to 40 or more, expresses its gratitude to each of them at every Mass.

Many seem unused to the new translation, even still. There are stumbles and bits of confusion. I suspect these priests might be lent out by the Cathedral or the Chancery, and perhaps they are not praying the Mass with a congregation frequently.

Today’s priest, however, was flawless. He was word-perfect and still managed to make the prayers simultaneously poetic and intimate. He preached primarily on the reading from Esther, and he managed to give us the whole story in a nutshell and then connect Esther’s desperate prayer to the Gospel reading.

In the silence after communion today, there was the sudden noise of a protest outside. There were drums and chants, incomprehensible through the thick doors of the chapel. It continued on and on. Perhaps given the readings, there was genuine concern, even fear, in the congregation.

The thought that leapt to my mind was an angry mob storming the church. The “why” part of this was only partly formed, but the suddeness and the apparent closeness of the protest was quite alarming.

Father dispelled the fear at once. He rose and intoned “Let us pray” in perfect serenity. After the final blessing over the people, he left to a much calmer congregation, even though outside the protest continued.

As it turned out, the protestors were at the Hilton down the block and across the street. The drums and the megaphone was echoing down the street, but even close up it was impossible to tell what they were on about.