March 14, 2025 
from M. Regina Cram
The following talk was given at a student retreat by a 20-year-old college kid.
A theology talk? This will be boring. Isn’t God the Guy you pray to when your basketball team is losing badly, or if you didn’t study for a chemistry test, or when your grandmother is in the hospital?
Fortunately, our God is not remotely like that guy. He’s not some boring deity our ancestors worshipped back when they didn’t brush their teeth. He’s the God who knows what you ate for breakfast, cheered for you during your soccer game, and cried when your first goldfish died. (I’m sure He laughed during my goldfish’s funeral.)
This Guy knows what you need and what’s best for you. Who wouldn’t want to know a Guy like that? That’s what theology is about.
Catholic writer Peter Kreeft wrote, “Don’t we know what’s going on at Mass? Don’t we know we’re attending a meeting of spies plotting a revolution against the prince of this world? Don’t we know that the great Lion of the Tribe of Judah sneaks into our churches in disguise to meet us there?”
Jesus is radical, and so is the Mass, where bread and wine are transformed into the very Body and Blood of Christ. In receiving Him, we become radical as well. No one who confronts God in such an undisguised manner can leave without being moved. At Mass, we offer our lives as a sacrifice to God because that’s the greatest gift we can give. Honestly, it’s the only thing He wants.
Peter Kreeft went on to say, “If your Jesus is boring, He’s not the real Jesus. If it’s a tame lion, it’s not Aslan.”
We don’t go to Mass to be entertained. In a world full of distractions, going to Church may seem pointless until we see God hidden among the traditions and rituals of the Mass. There’s a God-shaped hole in every heart that remains an empty chasm until we allow God to fill it with Himself. Only then will we find what we’re all frantically seeking, even if unawares.
A Protestant once said, “If I believed what you believe about the Eucharist, I would crawl on my belly to receive Communion.” What a contrast to how we can nonchalantly approach communion, hold God in our hands, and consume Him. If we had even an inkling of what was happening, we would be too weak-kneed to rise from our pew.
When I was eight, I often joined my mom at weekday Mass. However, as my First Communion day approached, I couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s too hard,” I explained. “Jesus is right there in the room with me, and I can’t receive Him! It’s just too hard.”
And now, 12 years later, Jesus still gazes at me in love. How could the One who knows all my faults still love me? But He does. And He reaches down from heaven and performs the miracle of the Eucharist. Why? That we might become like Him – holy, perfect, love itself.
Crazy? Maybe. Boring? Never.
Tierney Keogler is the daughter of M. Regina Cram, a published author and parishioner of SS. Isidore and Maria Parish.
