A Break Apart

CHAPTER 20. Table Talk

"Go in peace, the Mass is ended." The priest gave his final blessing.

"Thanks be to God," we all responded.

The priest then kissed the altar and walked over to join the lay readers and altar servers in front of it. They all genuflected, then bowed their heads before the Blessed Sacrament and turned around, facing the congregation. The thurifer lead the procession, and the priest, with hands clasped together, waited until the others had followed suit before he joined the queue.

The choir continued with the hymn: What a friend we have in Jesus. Some faithfuls sang along. Some walked to the alter to pray. Mum and I joined the others who were genuflecting. William stood confused in the midst of the random activities, and then he made the Sign of the Cross that he had mastered over the weeks. Watching him, I bit back a smile.

"Happy Sunday, ma." William joined Mum and I in the crowd as we walked out of the church.

"You came right on time today. How was the Mass?" Mum asked.

"Better than the last," he replied.

"That's because you participated fully," she said.

Aside being a pest, and sometimes making my heart feel things that it shouldn't be feeling whenever we were together, he had also shown interest in learning about the Catholic faith, and I had been his source of enlightenment in the last couple of days.

"You could just ask Google," I said while we strolled down the street, another one of his forced adventures, the first time he inquired.

"Is that how the Good News is being spread these days?" he replied.

I laughed. "You have a point."

The last time we had the conversation was on another one of his unannounced visit that ended with an unplanned coffee date at the dinning table.

"Baptism is the purifying sacrament that welcomes one into the faith."

"So why then is the Body of Christ limited to a few?"

I chuckled. "It's actually accessible to all, but it follows a process so its significance is well known, and that's where catechism comes in. Even at that, one needs to be in the state of grace, that is, have a clear conscience, in order to receive the Holy Eucharist. All these rules... or rather, the church's commandment surrounding it just helps to keep one's spiritual life in check, as well as preserving the value of the sacrament, so that it's not being abused or taken for granted. It's for the zealous Catholic, and anyone can be. After all, only the Saints, we're told, wins the heavenly race."

"Hmm, amazing," he said, nodding, and then he sipped his coffee and put the cup down. "Like the narrow gate."

I dropped my own cup of coffee that I had just picked up from the table. "Exactly!" I motioned a hand at him, with the satisfactory look of a teacher whose student was following.

While he laughed, I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"You're doing great," I teased.

"Well," he shrugged, "I have a sound teacher." He gazed at me with that familiar intensity in his eyes, and I pushed down the blush that was creeping up on my face.

"I may be ready for baptism," William said, after we climbed down the last stair of the church entrance.

I halted, and so did Mum, then we both looked at each other, and then our eyes darted back at him. I never thought that his inquisitions, which I had assumed were merely for the sake of knowledge, would be backed up with action.