This morning’s misadventures included MassTimes.org’s not being updated with Chicago’s latest parish closures, and two grocery store workers being strangely friendly. Funnily enough, the unbelievably high concentration of ethnic Chinese in Chinatown and Bridgeport means that there are terribly few to spare for the rest of Chicago, so I look like a weirdo walking around here. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different. I’ve lived the minority life before.

But! As I was walking back from the grocery store, I caught myself singing Rent. Not that that’s a bad thing — it was hilariously relevant, ‘Every time I walk down the street…’ — but it sounded good to me, which it didn’t the day before. And I just couldn’t get the sound of modes back in my mind, so now I’m back on a diet of the Monks of Norcia and the Dominican Sisters of Mary. There’s something to be said here about how even I, enthusiast and dabbling musician, need this kind of continual refreshing to be able to retain an appreciation for sacred music. This music is otherworldly (to us today, at least) and it’s going to be a bit of a slog bringing it back to its rightful place.

It’s actually quite like most other things of God — is it easier to talk about how much we all like to get along, compared to how much we all need God and may have to change? It is. Is it easier to be selfish and mean than to care? It is. Is it easier not to drop everything and follow Him? Sure it is. But we know which is good and true, and blessedly that goodness and truth can speak for itself. We just have to cooperate with grace to get there, and at times it won’t be easy.