Wedded to the Builder.

Because my husband is a carpenter and concrete contractor, our home improvement projects always come in under budget and are completed with perfection. Eventually. There is no “time is of the essence” clause in the contract when your builder is your spouse, when projects large and small are done on nights and weekends. You learn to live with—and in—the mess, sometimes for months on end or even longer. You watch in wonder as the chaos of construction gives way to more space for your growing family. A humble abode your domestic church, so carefully and masterfully built, no less grand to you than the most impressive of cathedrals. Or basilicas.

Even the Lateran Basilica, the mother church of all Roman Catholics? Well, I’ve never been. But I’ve seen pictures and taken a virtual tour. And though I know neither can capture the magnificence of this stunning structure, I also know this: As with a family home, so with the basilica. The splendor of the physical church pales in comparison with the beauty of the people who spiritually dwell therein.

The abbot St. Bernard comes to mind here. When the church at Clairvaux was dedicated in the 12th century, he reminded the monastic community they were celebrating something so much bigger than a building: “What sanctity can these stones have that we should celebrate their festival? They do indeed have sanctity, but it is because of your bodies.” Echoing St. Paul, Bernard went on, “Your souls are holy on account of the Spirit of God living in you, your bodies are holy because of your souls, and this house is holy because of your bodies.”

Holy. Holy. Holy. More holiness than the walls of a building can contain, as it should be when we are baptized in Christ. Much like the image in Ezekiel, the baptismal waters become rivers of glory streaming through us into every corner of the world. New life and abundance, food for the hungry and medicine for the weary—Christ the one we serve with the greatest of dedication, the foundation on which we build.

Were my husband to stand before the ancient Lateran Basilica, he would look in wonder and say, “And we think we know how to build . . .” I look at the basilica, my mother church, and know we are a work in process, every single person needed for the task. Every single sanctified person. Wedded to our Builder, we have every tool we need to keep building and growing this beautiful Church. Not eventually, but now. Time is of the essence, eternity upon us in our earthly abode.

Mary Stommes. Taken from Give Us This Day.

Mary Stommes is an oblate of St. Benedict and editor of Give Us This Day.