This morning we had the privilege of attending Mass at Mission Santa Barbara in the Serra Chapel which is normally closed to visitors.
Apparently there is some controversy in this area about the entire Spanish mission project and the impact it had on the native Chumash culture. Some time back the mission was severely vandalized. The vandalism included decapitating some of the statues. To protect the property and to preserve an atmosphere conducive to worship, it was decided to close parts of the mission to the public. But Mission Santa Barbara is still an active parish. A community of Franciscan friars live at the mission. Mass is held daily. And we were warmly received and escorted through private gardens and into the chapel.
This Mass may have been the highlight of my time in Santa Barbara. Father Larry conducted the Mass in a thoughtful, measured pace. His homily dealt with the fact that joy is a hard won victory. Jesus, he said, is revealed in the ordinariness of our lives rather than in the spectacular. And He is most often recognized by His wounds rather than His crowns. He gave me much to ponder as I am in this unusual season of travel. Where is the ordinariness in my life at the moment? So much seems out of the ordinary. But there is my husband’s tender faithfulness when I am ill. There are the turtles quietly swimming in the pond at the park. The mother duck escorting her two ducklings out of harm’s way along the footpath. There are the mountains gradually appearing out of the mist as the sun burns away the morning fog. I saw the tender care of Henry, a man at Mass who stood up to help the elderly Brother Arturo walk forward to receive Holy Communion, and then escorted him gently and slowly back to his seat. There was the warm greeting we received from Brother Arturo once Mass was ended. And the welcome from Father Larry who was so interested in Kentucky. There was Deanna who took us to another part of the mission to show us a beautiful Della Robbia that had been discovered in pieces in the mission basement and restored by the friars. All of these people were just going about their daily lives. But they touched us with the love of Christ, seen in the ordinariness of life.
We visited a small market John remembered from his childhood to buy some local wine. There we encountered the kindness of Anthony, a Christian from Syria who had come to the United States several years ago because of “some trouble in Syria”. He reminded us to be grateful to live in America, even the parts we think are not so special.
At the Sea Center we met Emma, a volunteer who was a biochemist before she married an American and left her native England. She hauled up a bucket of sediment from the ocean for us and helped us examine it under a microscope. We saw minuscule life, barely visible to the naked eye. God in the ordinary. God present in the things we overlook every day. Emma says her job is “brilliant”!
We thought about eating on the water at Stearn’s Wharf, but decided to look for something a little less expensive. We stumbled upon My Place, a small Thai restaurant tucked into a residential neighborhood. The food was fresh and delicious, the servers were kind, and our appetites were satisfied. Christ was present in the ordinary.
The Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History focused on life in coastal California, specifically around Santa Barbara. It covered everything from Chumash culture to geology, plant and animal life to minerals, land, sea, and air. Here we met Dan and his young daughter Rebecca. The two clearly have a warm, loving relationship. It was a delight to wander behind them through part of the museum, overhearing their conversation and Dan’s loving instruction of his daughter. Christ was present in the ordinariness of daily life.
As we were looking for someplace to enjoy ice cream, I experienced a flair-up with my heart rhythm issues. But John willingly set aside our plans and brought me back to our hotel where I had a short rest. Everything was back to normal, apart from some fatigue, in short order. It amazes me that, complex as they are, our bodies work at all. But they keep right on going, day after day, year after year. Truly, God is present in the ordinary, which is really the miraculous in disguise.
We closed our day by strolling in a local park just to take pictures of the beautiful setting. Here were the turtles and ducks I mentioned earlier, glorifying their Creator just by being turtles and ducks.
What lessons can I learn from them about embracing each ordinary day as it comes and giving thanks to God that He miraculously made me and gave me the incredibly, wonderfully ordinary stuff of life to fill these ordinary days? Can I bring Him glory just by doing what I do daily and recognizing His presence as I do it?
Although I am in a different place than usual, there are people here going about the ordinary business of their days, just as I do back in Kentucky. Do they see God here? Will I see Him in Kentucky when I return home? “Jesus reveals Himself in the ordinary,” said Father Larry. Will I look for Him there?
Lead me on Your path, O Lord!
