Field Trip to Marshall 第六部分

What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart, what God has prepared for those who love him...Among human beings, who knows what pertains to a person except the spirit of the person that is within? Similarly, no one knows what pertains to God except the Spirit of God. - 1 Cor. 2: 9,11

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday! The sabbath had arrived and so did the Eucharistic service that I was anxiously anticipating partaking in. Had Angelina not been able to make it, Clara said that I would have gotten to lead it with her. However, I got to lector and help lead them in song, which I was more than happy to do of course. We sang some songs in English, but the ones that we sang in Yup'ik I actually knew! Angelina told me afterwards how happy she was to hear me sing with them.

Modernity and perhaps Vatican II gave way to women not wearing head coverings during Mass. A few years ago because of an experience during prayer I began to wear one when I prayed privately, during Adoration, or when I would attend a Tridentine (Latin) Mass. It is a symbolic and very personal choice that I make to in a way, shield off my body to this world in order to open up my spirit to heaven. When I saw that Clara and Angelina had head scarves on, I ran upstairs to retrieve my veil. My heart leaped at the unexpected opportunity to wear it without it being an out-of-place distraction. Wearing it while I was on the alter reading the Word of God almost seemed like a moment of a clash between conservatism and liberalism.

I had never been to a Eucharistic service before. It struck me as I was listening to Clara give her homily how this is what they have almost entirely all of the time. The Holy Mass is such a central part of the practice of Catholicism and though they still receive the Eucharist in a service, I wondered how different the experience of the Liturgy was without being present for the miracle of the Consecration of the hosts. It made my heart sink, to think of how rare it is for them to witness it, to be part of it, to behold it, that miracle so unique to our faith. Yet I became especially thankful that I was wearing my veil during all of this because although the miracle of the Consecration was not present, the miracle of having the Eucharist (and enough Eucharist) there at all certainly was there strikingly. I wore it then, in reverence and gratitude for all who make receiving Him in such a place possible. That too is a miracle we must never forget.

Later that evening there was another Slaviq feed at Clara's house. I met her brother George who just moved back to Marshall after earning his Masters degree from University of Alaska, Fairbanks. He began to reiterate a tradition that I had heard mentioned several times in my duration there: the tradition of the name-sake. When a family member dies and a child is born in that same year, that child takes on the name of the one who passed away. It could be their Yup'ik name, their English name, or a variation of either. It honors the dead and creates a special bond between the two family members.

When George's daughter was born it was the same year that his mother died, so fittingly she became the child's name-sake. They didn't name her the exact Yup'ik name and according to George, they never mentioned it to her. When his daughter was only about two or three, she yelled for her dad to come into the kitchen where she was. After several beckonings, George came into the kitchen asking her what was the matter. She patted herself on the chest and said his mother's name in Yup'ik. When I asked him how she knew, he and the others around responded, "because she was young, she was more in touch with her name-sake. They just know. They always know".

It made me ponder on the presence of God not seen, not heard, not understood. How God chooses to connect and show Himself to us is forever a mystery, a great one at that. I pray to be more open to, in the words of St. Ignatius, find God in all things.