Hi there. Post about my journey to Catholicism #2.
I'd like to affirm openly that I am becoming Catholic even after having had many great experiences in my evangelical Christian upbringing, and that this move should not be interpreted as a reaction against previous churches or as a gesture of disgust. Through this process of attraction to Catholicism, I have realized that I want to spend my life working for ecumenism. I know that I can only join the Church if it is for the cause of the unity of the body of Christ and for the sake of ushering in his Kingdom. I'm not sure how this works out exactly, and I've never been comfortable labeling my religion with anything other than "Christian." But I know what is right, and I know that this is what I need to do. And I think I will probably care this passionately about ecumenism for the rest of my life.
I have moved around too much, and perhaps the hardest thing about each relocation is leaving behind a church community (especially when leaving Madrid, my island in Maine, and the community in Jackson, TN). I feel the separations keenly and with deep regret.
Each church has its particular weak places and things I wish were better. But I am not turning to Catholicism out of any bitterness or any particularly negative experiences with Protestantism. I love the tradition that raised me. I appreciate the good training I've received: the familiarity with the Bible gained from 8 years in a Reformed school and 4 years at Union University, the freedom of expressive worship that I've always known, the comfort and familiarity with movements of the Holy Spirit, my mentors (none were Catholic), my Baptist people, all of you. The evangelical expression of the Christian faith that I've known is vibrant and exciting and quite healthy.
It's just that I spent some time with a more beautiful liturgy, and the mystery and the beauty of it stuns me and enthralls me and keeps me coming back. I'm amazed. It's that good.
This brings me to the subject of traditions: all Christians have them. Some traditions (habits, rituals, liturgies) are better than others. If I'm going to have liturgy, (and really, everyone does, even if the liturgy is very casual or involves continually changing the expression of worship) I have realized that I really prefer thoughtful, well-developed, time-tested, orthodox, deep stuff. I like using the Liturgy of the Hours and knowing that Christians have been thinking about the words and developing them for centuries. I like liturgical practices that have marinated in the best Christian thought and endured the test of time. I know that most Catholic traditions have made their way to me via many more intelligent, more serious, more experienced, more dedicated and scholarly Christians than myself.
I love to explore the inexhaustibly profound intricacies of the Mass and know that there will always be more to find out.
Christianity is really cool.
May we all grow to understand and love one another more, in the unity of the Holy Spirit.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Dear friends, I am becoming Catholic.
I am becoming Catholic, and you deserve an explanation.
Since I moved to Colorado (literally, since my first Sunday) I have been attending Mass and falling in love with the Church. I am overwhelmed by beauty, delighted by liturgy, transfixed by sacraments, fascinated by mystery, comforted by orthodoxy. I attended confirmation classes, studied the Cathechism, and did a lot of reading. I talked with a lot of people: the priests, the Catholic friends I met, many friends who aren't Catholic but love me and love church unity, too. And with deeply concerned, disapproving Protestants. I talk with my brother. And I talk with a thoughtful, patient, sincere man named Matthew. But that's another story. This is about how I love the Catholic Church, not just about how I love him.
In my first month in Boulder, I found myself dating a Catholic, and I told him upfront that I would never, ever become Catholic (so deal with it!).
In my third month here I joined RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults, confirmation class), not to join the Church, of course, because I was never going to do that. But just to learn more, meet more people at my new "home church," and have interesting conversations. I also wanted to get the lowdown on why I couldn't take Communion.
By Spring I was pretty distraught over being denied Communion with my community. Every week, every Mass. It gets real old. Except for that, I had decided that the Catholic Church was pretty wonderful, and thought it was too bad that wasn't part of my identity. We are tribal when it comes to religious expression. My people are not high-church people.
Summertime 2012 I decided to rejoin RCIA for my second year in Boulder, and at least pretend that this time I would really go through with confirmation. I secretly thought that probably I would still find some way out, and not have to commit to Catholicism for the rest of my life. I don't know. I balk at the totality of the commitment.
On the second of December 2012, the Church welcomed me in the Rite of Acceptance as a candidate for confirmation, and I am officially on my way to First Communion this Easter. And I'm excited. Deeply. I can't wait.
How did this happen? How do I discern this despite my objections and doubts? What are my reasons?
It has been a long journey. It's convenient to refer to my time studying Catholic art in Spain and cite my Honors Program Thesis: an enthusiastic celebration of the strong tradition of Catholic art, why the Reformers were wrong, and how Protestants need to learn from the Catholic tradition. And it's easy to refer to my pilgrimage to Rome in my third year of college, my unexpected and life-changing encounter with holiness at a candlelight Mass at Trinità dei Monti for Easter Vigil, my joyful Easter at the Vatican, my obsession with Christian art and history. (I mean, I just reread the other blog posts here, and I'm surprised how consistently I was inspired by Catholic Stuff). But the journey has come a long way since then, and my enthusiasm has only grown. Familiarity fostered love.
My doubts are many. I agonize over this, I do.
I'm a bit terrified.
I'm very, very serious. Brow furrowed, nose in books, snapping questions, praying agonized prayers. Absolutely overawed during Mass, holding my breath for reverence. Feeling foreign, feeling alien, feeling disturbed, feeling actual hostility toward some of the things I call "Catholic Crap," feeling clumsy, feeling humbled. Asking myself, will I regret this? to the point of tears. Knowing that I am still so ignorant of what I'm getting myself into.
But I'm also joyful. I am doing this out of love for the Church, passion for orthodoxy and the unity of the Christian church, and an ardent desire to partake in the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Every day confirms in me that I am choosing well, and what I am doing with this decision glorifies God.
I'm not fully committed yet. I still have some months to deal with my doubts and get used to the idea of calling myself a Catholic. The label feels very foreign, very "other." Until then, I'd like to explain further what I've learned, how I've changed certain ideas and practices in myself, how I've not changed, how I still disagree or disapprove of some Catholic stuff, and the details of how I've come to love and defend the Church anyway.
Thank you to every listening heart and every open mind I've encountered along the way. I love you, friends.
Would you like to stay tuned?
Since I moved to Colorado (literally, since my first Sunday) I have been attending Mass and falling in love with the Church. I am overwhelmed by beauty, delighted by liturgy, transfixed by sacraments, fascinated by mystery, comforted by orthodoxy. I attended confirmation classes, studied the Cathechism, and did a lot of reading. I talked with a lot of people: the priests, the Catholic friends I met, many friends who aren't Catholic but love me and love church unity, too. And with deeply concerned, disapproving Protestants. I talk with my brother. And I talk with a thoughtful, patient, sincere man named Matthew. But that's another story. This is about how I love the Catholic Church, not just about how I love him.
In my first month in Boulder, I found myself dating a Catholic, and I told him upfront that I would never, ever become Catholic (so deal with it!).
In my third month here I joined RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults, confirmation class), not to join the Church, of course, because I was never going to do that. But just to learn more, meet more people at my new "home church," and have interesting conversations. I also wanted to get the lowdown on why I couldn't take Communion.
By Spring I was pretty distraught over being denied Communion with my community. Every week, every Mass. It gets real old. Except for that, I had decided that the Catholic Church was pretty wonderful, and thought it was too bad that wasn't part of my identity. We are tribal when it comes to religious expression. My people are not high-church people.
Summertime 2012 I decided to rejoin RCIA for my second year in Boulder, and at least pretend that this time I would really go through with confirmation. I secretly thought that probably I would still find some way out, and not have to commit to Catholicism for the rest of my life. I don't know. I balk at the totality of the commitment.
On the second of December 2012, the Church welcomed me in the Rite of Acceptance as a candidate for confirmation, and I am officially on my way to First Communion this Easter. And I'm excited. Deeply. I can't wait.
How did this happen? How do I discern this despite my objections and doubts? What are my reasons?
It has been a long journey. It's convenient to refer to my time studying Catholic art in Spain and cite my Honors Program Thesis: an enthusiastic celebration of the strong tradition of Catholic art, why the Reformers were wrong, and how Protestants need to learn from the Catholic tradition. And it's easy to refer to my pilgrimage to Rome in my third year of college, my unexpected and life-changing encounter with holiness at a candlelight Mass at Trinità dei Monti for Easter Vigil, my joyful Easter at the Vatican, my obsession with Christian art and history. (I mean, I just reread the other blog posts here, and I'm surprised how consistently I was inspired by Catholic Stuff). But the journey has come a long way since then, and my enthusiasm has only grown. Familiarity fostered love.
My doubts are many. I agonize over this, I do.
I'm a bit terrified.
I'm very, very serious. Brow furrowed, nose in books, snapping questions, praying agonized prayers. Absolutely overawed during Mass, holding my breath for reverence. Feeling foreign, feeling alien, feeling disturbed, feeling actual hostility toward some of the things I call "Catholic Crap," feeling clumsy, feeling humbled. Asking myself, will I regret this? to the point of tears. Knowing that I am still so ignorant of what I'm getting myself into.
But I'm also joyful. I am doing this out of love for the Church, passion for orthodoxy and the unity of the Christian church, and an ardent desire to partake in the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Every day confirms in me that I am choosing well, and what I am doing with this decision glorifies God.
I'm not fully committed yet. I still have some months to deal with my doubts and get used to the idea of calling myself a Catholic. The label feels very foreign, very "other." Until then, I'd like to explain further what I've learned, how I've changed certain ideas and practices in myself, how I've not changed, how I still disagree or disapprove of some Catholic stuff, and the details of how I've come to love and defend the Church anyway.
Thank you to every listening heart and every open mind I've encountered along the way. I love you, friends.
Would you like to stay tuned?
 |
| My favorite day: Easter Vigil at St. Thomas Aquinas University Parish in Boulder. This is my church, this is what I love, and this is where I will take my First Communion, Lord willing, at Easter this year. |
Friday, November 4, 2011
Hymn for the Mountaintop
Sometimes the scariest things in life are the most rewarding. The symbol of ascending a mountain has been speaking well to me about it recently.
This is about biking eight miles up a mountain in the dark before sunrise. It's about scary journeys. It's about traveling a long way in the cold, feeling the warmth of sunrise, welcoming the morning. Cresting the canyon and seeing the glaciers and snowfields in the Western mountains. Realizing you've arrived an a place of astonishing beauty. Realizing your new life is turning out to be filled with incredible blessings.
This is about moving to Colorado.
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.
3 my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation.
He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior—
from violent people you save me.
7 “In my distress I called to the LORD;
I called out to my God.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came to his ears.
10 He parted the heavens and came down;
dark clouds were under his feet.
11 He mounted the cherubim and flew;
he soared on the wings of the wind.
12 He made darkness his canopy around him—
the dark rain clouds of the sky.
13 Out of the brightness of his presence
bolts of lightning blazed forth.
14 The LORD thundered from heaven;
the voice of the Most High resounded.
17 “He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
18 He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
19 They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the LORD was my support.
20 He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me.
21 “The LORD has dealt with me according to my righteousness;
according to the cleanness of my hands he has rewarded me.
22 For I have kept the ways of the LORD;
I am not guilty of turning from my God.
23 All his laws are before me;
I have not turned away from his decrees.
24 I have been blameless before him
and have kept myself from sin.
25 The LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness,
according to my cleanness in his sight.
26 “To the faithful you show yourself faithful,
to the blameless you show yourself blameless,
27 to the pure you show yourself pure,
but to the devious you show yourself shrewd.
28 You save the humble,
but your eyes are on the haughty to bring them low.
29 You, LORD, are my lamp;
the LORD turns my darkness into light.
34 He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he causes me to stand on the heights.
35 He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
47 “The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock!
Exalted be my God, the Rock, my Savior!
This is about biking eight miles up a mountain in the dark before sunrise. It's about scary journeys. It's about traveling a long way in the cold, feeling the warmth of sunrise, welcoming the morning. Cresting the canyon and seeing the glaciers and snowfields in the Western mountains. Realizing you've arrived an a place of astonishing beauty. Realizing your new life is turning out to be filled with incredible blessings.
This is about moving to Colorado.
Psalm 73:6
My flesh and my heart may fail,but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.
2 Samuel 22 A Song of Praise
1 David sang to the LORD the words of this song when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. 2 He said: “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;3 my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation.
He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior—
from violent people you save me.
7 “In my distress I called to the LORD;
I called out to my God.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came to his ears.
10 He parted the heavens and came down;
dark clouds were under his feet.
11 He mounted the cherubim and flew;
he soared on the wings of the wind.
12 He made darkness his canopy around him—
the dark rain clouds of the sky.
13 Out of the brightness of his presence
bolts of lightning blazed forth.
14 The LORD thundered from heaven;
the voice of the Most High resounded.
17 “He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
18 He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
19 They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the LORD was my support.
20 He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me.
21 “The LORD has dealt with me according to my righteousness;
according to the cleanness of my hands he has rewarded me.
22 For I have kept the ways of the LORD;
I am not guilty of turning from my God.
23 All his laws are before me;
I have not turned away from his decrees.
24 I have been blameless before him
and have kept myself from sin.
25 The LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness,
according to my cleanness in his sight.
26 “To the faithful you show yourself faithful,
to the blameless you show yourself blameless,
27 to the pure you show yourself pure,
but to the devious you show yourself shrewd.
28 You save the humble,
but your eyes are on the haughty to bring them low.
29 You, LORD, are my lamp;
the LORD turns my darkness into light.
34 He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he causes me to stand on the heights.
35 He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
47 “The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock!
Exalted be my God, the Rock, my Savior!
 |
| The Summit of Green Mountain, Boulder |
Monday, September 19, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Dear Dad,
Did you know, as a child I used to feel sorry for other kids because they had someone other than you for a father? It's true.
Thanks for always making sure I am well-provided with everything I need to do my best, from bringing me home from the hospital (even though you didn't know what to do with me) all the way through college. I notice.
Also, the trip to Camden Hills/Bath/Captain's Fresh Idea (ha ha)/Boothbay/Southport was one of the highlights of my summer (even if I didn't come back with a sweet red convertible BMW). Mostly because I love just being with you. Thanks for treating me right.
Happy, happy birthday! I wish we could all be together today!
Love you and miss you, daddy
Mary Alisa
Thanks for always making sure I am well-provided with everything I need to do my best, from bringing me home from the hospital (even though you didn't know what to do with me) all the way through college. I notice.
Also, the trip to Camden Hills/Bath/Captain's Fresh Idea (ha ha)/Boothbay/Southport was one of the highlights of my summer (even if I didn't come back with a sweet red convertible BMW). Mostly because I love just being with you. Thanks for treating me right.
Happy, happy birthday! I wish we could all be together today!
Love you and miss you, daddy
Mary Alisa
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Ambitions for this Summer
Or, mainly, a Summer Reading List, and other assorted goals.
I want to read:
-Nourishing Traditions, Sally Fallon
-The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis
-Post Captain, Patrick O'Brian.
-Created to be His Help Meet, Debi Pearl
(Already begun, and not sure of the extent to which I agree)
-Crossing to Safety, Wallace Stegner
-What to Eat, Marion Nestle
-The Gift of Asher Lev, Chaim Potok
(I had no idea My Name is Asher Lev had a sequel)
-Honoring the Body: Meditations on a Christian Practice, Stephanie Paulsell
-Receiving the Day: Christian Practices for Opening the Gift of Time, Dorothy Bass
(A book about "receiving each day as a gift from God... She encourages readers to open their hearts every morning in quiet thanks to God for life, to learn to structure their lives with flexible regularity, to use their time for things that matter and to live today confidently, without fear. She also discusses the benefits of keeping the Sabbath, observing the Christian year with all its special holidays and religious celebrations, and counting days and moments with an eye on eternity." Sounds good.)
-Commodore Hornblower, C.S. Forester.
(Classic adventures. The Hornblower Saga never gets old, no matter how many times you re-read it. Bonus: happy memories of Dad reading it out loud to us)
-The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley
(well, re-read, really. It was my favorite book when I was about nine)
-The Percy Jackson books? Maybe? The prospect makes me happy, but we'll see.
And more bits of the Apocrypha, but I'm not sure which yet.
Also, one of my grandmother's Sewing Circle friends will hopefully be teaching me to weave fabric on a floor loom. This is so cool I can hardly believe it might actually happen.
Other aspirations include:
-lots of experimental cooking from scratch, from whole foods
-teaching Ali to sail, one on one. We will pretend to be Pellew and Hornblower.
-carrying my sketchbook around on hikes in Islesboro, and producing a lot of drawings
-making my own lip balm
Photos of some inspiration: the work of Sheila Hicks. Saw an exhibition at Phillips Academy when I was in Andover this winter, and I am still in awe. I want to learn more about textiles!
I want to read:
-Nourishing Traditions, Sally Fallon
-The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis
-Post Captain, Patrick O'Brian.
-Created to be His Help Meet, Debi Pearl
(Already begun, and not sure of the extent to which I agree)
-Crossing to Safety, Wallace Stegner
-What to Eat, Marion Nestle
-The Gift of Asher Lev, Chaim Potok
(I had no idea My Name is Asher Lev had a sequel)
-Honoring the Body: Meditations on a Christian Practice, Stephanie Paulsell
-Receiving the Day: Christian Practices for Opening the Gift of Time, Dorothy Bass
(A book about "receiving each day as a gift from God... She encourages readers to open their hearts every morning in quiet thanks to God for life, to learn to structure their lives with flexible regularity, to use their time for things that matter and to live today confidently, without fear. She also discusses the benefits of keeping the Sabbath, observing the Christian year with all its special holidays and religious celebrations, and counting days and moments with an eye on eternity." Sounds good.)
-Commodore Hornblower, C.S. Forester.
(Classic adventures. The Hornblower Saga never gets old, no matter how many times you re-read it. Bonus: happy memories of Dad reading it out loud to us)
-The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley
(well, re-read, really. It was my favorite book when I was about nine)
-The Percy Jackson books? Maybe? The prospect makes me happy, but we'll see.
And more bits of the Apocrypha, but I'm not sure which yet.
Also, one of my grandmother's Sewing Circle friends will hopefully be teaching me to weave fabric on a floor loom. This is so cool I can hardly believe it might actually happen.
Other aspirations include:
-lots of experimental cooking from scratch, from whole foods
-teaching Ali to sail, one on one. We will pretend to be Pellew and Hornblower.
-carrying my sketchbook around on hikes in Islesboro, and producing a lot of drawings
-making my own lip balm
Photos of some inspiration: the work of Sheila Hicks. Saw an exhibition at Phillips Academy when I was in Andover this winter, and I am still in awe. I want to learn more about textiles!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
I'm Like My Mom
I found this photo recently in my parent's wedding/honeymoon/newlywed album. It's my mom on our beach in Maine in June, 1981. She was twenty.
It kinda blew my mind, because it's so similar to this photo of me at age twenty. I'm standing in the exact same spot on our beach (well, I am slightly to the left, if you note the rocks). The tide is even the same.
I'm a lot like my mom and becoming more like her all the time. She improves me a lot. She used read to us continually (three books per child for each naptime and bed time), so I was reading and writing as a toddler, and I attribute a lot of my academic success to her. But she made fun of me so I wouldn't get too nerdy, so that's good, too.
My mom taught me to cook, sing, take care of babies, and play nice. She made sure I had eight years of classical piano lessons and a decade of clarinet. My loves of peanut butter and pilates and baking bread all come from her. She's always up for taking a walk, going sailing, hiking on the beach, reading the Bible in the sun, or watching an hour of Pride and Prejudice. She lets me borrow her beauty products and stylish shoes. She taught me to draw, wear funky jewelry, and weave fabric. Does it get any cooler than that?
No. It doesn't. She's the epitome of cool.
I love you, mommy.
It kinda blew my mind, because it's so similar to this photo of me at age twenty. I'm standing in the exact same spot on our beach (well, I am slightly to the left, if you note the rocks). The tide is even the same.
I'm a lot like my mom and becoming more like her all the time. She improves me a lot. She used read to us continually (three books per child for each naptime and bed time), so I was reading and writing as a toddler, and I attribute a lot of my academic success to her. But she made fun of me so I wouldn't get too nerdy, so that's good, too.
My mom taught me to cook, sing, take care of babies, and play nice. She made sure I had eight years of classical piano lessons and a decade of clarinet. My loves of peanut butter and pilates and baking bread all come from her. She's always up for taking a walk, going sailing, hiking on the beach, reading the Bible in the sun, or watching an hour of Pride and Prejudice. She lets me borrow her beauty products and stylish shoes. She taught me to draw, wear funky jewelry, and weave fabric. Does it get any cooler than that?
No. It doesn't. She's the epitome of cool.
I love you, mommy.
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