Why Don’t You Go Up to My House?

God’s Voice or Yours?

Catholic Church in Burlington VT -Personal photo from writer’s files

Have you ever wondered whether you’ve heard God’s voice? The distinction, most of the time, is so hard to make. You wonder, and ponder, and mull over it. Did I hear God’s voice, or was it my own thoughts bouncing back to me?

We’ve all been there. It would be nice if a booming voice in our head would announce — “This is God. I have something to say.”

Yes, it would be scary, and we would more than likely fall to our knees wherever we are. The parking lot, the grocery store, the mall, on our walk with a dog on a lead — but also, more appropriately, in our house, our bedroom, in church: the possibilities are legion.

But sometimes, praise be God, there is no doubt. It’s His voice, and it does not enter your mind for a moment to disobey,

“Why don’t you go up to my house?”

I’ve been following the Bible in a Year with Father Mike Schmitz, and am on Day 269. He makes Sacred Scripture come to life, and I have been exiled to Babylon, and now finally I’m back in Jerusalem, where those who have returned are constructing a new temple. Additionally, I’m on Day 22 of Consecration to the Eucharist. And then there’s the daily Rosary.

These things give a glimpse into my mindset of being fully absorbed in everything related to my faith. But, after a week of attending an online Writer’s Conference, I’m tired. No, correction, I’m braindead.

While walking my two dogs this morning, the prospect of getting dressed and driving half an hour to church loomed like a great big mountain to be climbed. I decided instead to lounge in my tacky dog-walking clothes and tune in to the service from St. Catherine’s Catholic Church in Boston. I discovered it during Covid. The priest is dynamite, and the choir is world-class. Hmm, yes, that’s what I would do, I decided, and from nowhere came the voice in my head –

“Why don’t you go up to my house?”

For once, there was no doubt in my mind that it was God’s voice and not my own. I would not refer to my church as a “house,” or use the phrase “go up to.”

I went home, fed the dogs, changed my clothes, and went to church.

The Eucharist had a special meaning today.

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