The domestic church is like an enclosed garden; a planned space
for the cultivation, nurture and care of the family.
The present is the only chance to build our family as a domestic church.
My husband sometimes refers to me as ‘Island Girl’, because I was born and raised on a Pacific island. My birth family lived in a mountainous region that required an hour and a half drive to reach the closest beach. The expanse of water bounded by the horizon, especially punctuated during sunset, seemed contained in the panorama before my eyes. It wasn’t until I learned Geography in the third grade that I grasped the idea that the beach was part of a sea that was part of the Pacific Ocean. On a globe, in fact, all the oceans connect as to be one big ocean that covers 71% of the earth! I realized then that my beach was just one point in the ocean’s global periphery. Looking out from that point, the water seemed to be an isolated body but in reality it was joined to the greater expanse of water that covered the majority of the planet.
The Blessed Trinity
Fr. Cantalamessa states, “We cannot wrap our arms around the ocean, but we can enter in it. We cannot encompass the mystery of the Trinity with our minds, but we can enter it!” This line in Fr. Cantalamessa’s book, “Contemplating the Trinity”, seizes my attention. He continues that “Christ has left us a concrete way to do that – through the Eucharist.”
This line has profound meaning to me as it brings memories of my childhood day-trips to the beach. How beautiful it is that the ocean is likened to the mystery of the Trinity, and we can enter it. The metaphor is clear to me.
In the Ocean
At the End of the Day
After a day at the ocean, my family would return to our home in the mountains. An island girl would go home with sand in her hair and the smell of salt water, and with much darker skin tone. The funny thing is that when I would go to bed at night, the taste of salt remained in my mouth, and the sound of the waves echoed in my ears like white noise. As I laid my head on the pillow, a rocking sensation of ocean waves washed over me with each breath. It seemed that the ocean left impressions on my senses. It is as if we brought the ocean home with us.