celebrate with me

One of my favorite parts of Catholicism is the element of celebration. We certainly have our times of mourning, fasting, weeping. We acknowledge the good and proper place of suffering. We know this is a fallen world, we know of our sin and we know its consequences. But we also know celebrations. We know the goodness and generosity of the Lord. We know there is a time for uplifted hearts and my favorite kinds of Catholics are those who relish in these times of joy. 

Back in college, my spiritual director made note of my own emotional intensity--particularly how severely sad and difficult things affect me. On one hand, if we're listening to Thomas Aquinas (and we are), this is nothing particularly special. Aquinas states that sorrow is most properly said to be a passion because of the intense level of bodily change it inflicts--so for anyone, sadness is a difficult passion to endure. Yet, it still seems fair to say that sorrow would be more intense for some than for others and my director was good to acknowledge that. His simple advice was that I cling to whatever good times come in an effort to balance out whatever adversity I experience. 

His advice wasn't necessarily mind-blowing, but it provided a good point of self-knowledge (this is who I am), self-correction (this is what I can do to balance that out) and a good excuse to find reasons to celebrate (this is what I need to be well). 

Parties constitute some of my fondest memories in college. Not quite the wild rager type parties...because I wasn't invited to those. But the come-dressed-as-a-literary-character party where we crowned the birthday girl with laurels or the super bowl party where we Tim-Tebowed our faces with questions and article reference numbers from the Summa. These were times where spirits were lifted and stresses set aside. They were times much needed then and memories very much cherished now. 

When Masses were canceled back in mid-March, I saw the opportunity to start hosting dorky, liturgically-themed dinners with our quarantine comrades. These served as an aid to make Sundays feel like Sundays despite not having a Mass to attend, and to have at least one point during the week that felt uplifting, happy, and lighthearted. From Laetare Sunday to Good Shepherd Sunday, we had excellent dinners with corny (yet elegant) decorations. It was great fun and we all agreed that we were eating better with quarantine than we did when life was normal. It didn't replace Mass, but these dinners went a long way in keeping us connected with the rhythm of the liturgical year. 

I've also celebrated considerably more in the last couple years since meeting my husband.I love celebrating anniversaries...so we celebrate every single one that I've made note of. First text, first phone call, first hug, first date, our engagement, and so many other little things are points of celebration. The picture above marks the 2 years since our first "Front Porch Coffee Date" which was celebrated with iced coffee in champagne glasses on the front porch. Silly? Perhaps. But worthwhile enough to squeeze a couple moments to celebrate 2 years together? Absolutely. At first I was so shy about these...and felt like a dork for having these things on my calendar..but Nick & I agree that its really been great fun to celebrate the little moments. 

Though we know that the Lord is close to the broken-hearted and should never be troubled in times of desolation, its good to know his presence when our hearts are uplifted too. Are we not always in the palm of His hand? While Catholics aren't the only ones who celebrate (and they shouldn't be!), I love that I'm part of a church that has a reason to celebrate and does. Its sets a tone for the rest of our lives--whether we're being "liturgical" or "spiritual" or celebrating something more earthly--there is much to celebrate. So lets.