Magic words.

When I was a baby, I had no manners at all. Rude, demanding, loud, unless I was asleep. Good thing I was cute. Good thing all babies are cute.

As I grew older my mom tried to teach me manners, but it's a hard concept for little kids to grasp.

One day in class I saw some art -- a poster or something -- of a Persian magician on a magic carpet. In my memory (always suspect, I grant you) he looked a lot like Fariik the Magician from Hanna-Barbera's Arabian Knights.

He was floating along under a sign that said "The Magic Words," and other carpets floating nearby had words written on them: "Please," "Thank You," "You're Welcome," "May I," and the like. 

Then it finally clicked: Words have power. 

When I used these words, suddenly the adults in my life were happier, more willing to fulfill my requests. It was magic.

From that day to this I have tried to be polite. My mother probably didn't know what had happened to her kid.

I mention all this because it's the third Sunday in Lent. I've heard from some folks recently who consider themselves "spiritual" rather than "religious." I'm willing to accept that an amorphous spirituality is better than nothing. However, I feel sad that they feel spirituality and religion are different. If my religion is divided from spirituality, then I'm doing my religion wrong. 

And that gets to the mumbo-jumbo. Catholics have always gotten the sneer for the blah blah blah of the Mass, the endless words, the Latin (not so much that anymore), the rote prayers, the smells & bells, and so on, mainly from Protestants who seem to think that words used in the Mass are unimportant. I can understand that. After all, Jesus warns us in Matthew (6:7) "do not babble like the pagans, who think that they will be heard because of their many words." We believe that's not what's going on in the Mass, though, especially during the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Every word is important, is for our benefit. 

I may not feel that way if I'm impatient to get to brunch. That's my failing.

Were I to hear the Mass in Latin or any other foreign language, I am sure it would sound like gobbledygook to me. But language is language; to use the Cartesian definition, Man is "the animal that talks." (And sometimes "the animal that won't shut up.") Language inspires us to love, as in sweet nothings, love letters, words of love. Or the opposite, as in fightin' words. Words can be meaningless, but only if babbled meaninglessly, or spat out Lorem ipsum style by a machine. Words are important. And thus are the words in the Mass, and thus is the Mass. At least that's my take.

As for the smells & bells -- who doesn't like incense and church bells? Smellin' great, soundin' great. No problem there.