Jesus has a lot of people helping him out in Orland Park. When my wife died in 2002 we were newcomers, having moved here to be near our daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. Folks I had never met offered friendship and prayers.
Around that time my neurologist diagnosed an unusual disease with an unpronounceable name, Straight aisles and moving crowds took my equilibrium and made a church feel like a roller coaster.
I found out that Jesus never leaves us alone. There he was, in family, neighbors, friends, strangers. Our Lord turns a bachelor condo into a holy place when he comes here on Sundays with the deacon or another minister of communion.
Can you beat that? It is not the same as being in St. Francis of Assisi Church for Mass, because church is where Christians live out community. But if I can’t get to the mountain, that’s no big deal for Jesus Christ. While I’m looking for him, he’s looking for me through the priests, deacons, religious and laity of his church.
The word that comes to mind is Wow, which is a secular translation of Alleluia!