Mystagogy…

So, it is time for Reflection on the Rite. Have I mentioned that talking about the Initiation is hard for me? Did I mention that I struggled for words, and even then didn’t manage it? Yeah, that was this morning all over again, and I could tell by their faces I wasn’t coming across. I felt like saying, “Can I just send ya’ll a link to my blog? This was hard enough the first time…” I didn’t, of course.

As I discussed this with Tracy she said, “you didn’t think you would get to bask in the glory of it did you?” Can you say “TTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBTTTTT!”

I didn’t expect to feel so… protective of it… maybe even selfish of it… and I didn’t expect such difficulty trying to share when I needed to do so.

Just Cindy mentioning the hug Tracy and I shared as she completed her reception of the Eucharist had me tearing up all over again.

 

I am home!

I have come to the Table of the Lord at last.

I tried to post earlier, but just typing the above overwhelmed me and I had to close the window. I’m not sure I’m ready now but I know there are people who want to know. Also, there are two sides of it… there’s the physical, and the spiritual/mental… and trying to describe the latter or explain it to others seems as fruitless as trying to explain any of the Mysteries, but I’ll try. (Please forgive if the details are excessive, I would want to know them if I were awaiting my own Initiation as some of those who will read this are.)

Father began Mass with an announcement of the Sacraments being celebrated and made mention that while these were normally celebrated during Easter Vigil, we (a specifically generic we) just couldn’t wait- which generated a great deal of laughter from the reserved rows where we and our sponsors sat, as well as a few other people who know our family well. (Dh was my sponsor, Sunshine’s  (dd 7 yrs) godparents Tracy and Stan were hers, then the sponsors for the other three girls were three of the ladies on the RCIA team, all of whom are very special to us and have come to know our family, our story, and know of our journey to this day.) Mass began as it normally does, albeit with special readings, and continued until the homily was over. Then Sunshine was called forward with her sponsors, Stan and Tracy. We prayed a Litany of the Saints, the Font was blessed, and Sunshine made her profession of faith in her baptismal vows. She wore a blue robe, made like an alb, over shorts and a t-shirt. Father had made certain the water was warm, and Tracy was waiting with a towel to wrap her up. She was baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, being lowered under the water three times. After she stepped out of the font and faced the congregation, she was so wet she was dripping-ok, puddling would be more accurate, her gown having absorbed a great deal of water. Father addressed her saying, “Child of God, you’re all wet!” whereupon she laughed along with the rest of the congregation. This was so precious to me… this immersion Baptism in the Catholic Church. A few years ago when I had my ‘flaming baseball bat’ experience and the Lord told me what He wanted me to do, I immediately obeyed, but I wrestled with the Lord as well… My three youngest children had just prayed to give their lives to God, and the middle two were actively (read that nagging) seeking baptism, only the details hadn’t been set. I knew that with this (ahem) new (ahem) leading from the Lord they would NOT be receiving baptism as they were baptized as babies in the Catholic Church. Seraiah would need to be baptized but I expected sprinkling for her as well as a young child. I knew I could never step foot in the church we had been attending again without being disobedient to God, much less do anything like baptism. I went fetal and cried and cried, mourning the loss of the baptism I had desired for my children, which I saw as absolutely necessary for their salvation, and I cried out to God about THAT too. (How can they be saved in that horribly misguided place with its statues and rituals and rote prayers? * go ahead, laugh, I am! I can’t believe I thought that!) He replied (I fancy rather testily and through gritted teeth), “Who saves them, YOU? (with your set order of traditions and immersion baptism)or ME? Do you trust ME to save them? Do you trust that even though right now you don’t see how the Sacraments of the Catholic Church can be enough or properly done, that I will honor your obedience and I WILL SAVE THEM?” Needless to say, I got on my face. The very realization that I had, in my arrogance, decided what they must do in order to be saved instead of trusting God to save them was horrifying to me, and I repented of it immediately. Back to the present, at this point, it wouldn’t have mattered to me how she was baptized. She WAS and that was all that mattered, and God would save her regardless. So it was, in a way, a gift from God that I was able to see this one immersed here in the Church where God had led us… He is ever this way with me… He asks me to let go of something which means SO much… and when I do, when I REALLY let go with the fingers of my heart and mind as well as those of my hands, He gives it back to me in a similar form, but one so much more precious than it ever would’ve been the old way.

In the end, nothing was lacking for any of my children, it never occurred to me to mourn that the middle two were confirmed instead of a baptism, it was complete and perfect just as it was… everything was so much richer for my children than I ever could’ve hoped for. When I think that they could’ve been kept from such spiritual wealth and completeness because of a different choice, a selfish choice, a choice of disobedience on my part… it causes me to shudder and give thanks to God for the great things He has wrought in our lives.

Back to the ceremony…

While Sunshine and Tracy went to the Sacristy to get her into dry clothing, the rest of us renewed our baptismal vows and were sprinkled with holy water from the newly blessed font. When Father flicked the water toward us, a drop hit directly in the center of my forehead where I normally touch to start the Sign of the Cross. It seemed appropriate in a way. Then I was called up with my sponsor (dh) to make my profession of faith. If you had told me a few years ago that I would be answering these questions not only in the affirmative, but with absolutely NO doubt in my mind, I’d have probably politely, tolerantly, smiled and thought how wrong you were, poor deluded person. Yet, as Father asked me if I believed in the Holy Catholic Church, its teachings, etc, I was able to say with absolute and complete conviction that I do. Not only that, but it was a privilege to be able to do so, and in a way, also a relief.

After that, we went back to our seats, only to have Father ask if I wanted to go check on Tracy and Sunshine as the door to the Sacristy was still closed. I went in, much to the amusement of the congregation, only to receive a few choice words from Tracy about the outfit ‘I’ had chosen. HA! Sunshine chose her OWN clothing thank you and hose aren’t easy to get on anybody quickly. They came out, were joined by Stan, and she was presented with a white alb which they assisted her in donning. Then the rest of us, with our sponsors, were asked to join Sunshine for the Sacrament of Confirmation. We stood with our sponsors behind us, their right hand on our shoulder, on the steps of the dais. Father came to me first, poured the Chrism on my head liberally, and rubbed it in, bringing some down to make a cross on my forehead as he pronounced the blessing. I responded amen, and shook his hand returning the sign of peace. He then progressed through Cricket (dd 8 yrs), Sunshine, Precious (dd 10 yrs), and then finally to Pumpkin (dd 13 yrs) at the other end, repeating the process for each of us. As I stood there, watching as my children were also confirmed, I thought of many things. I thought of my husbands parents, who had long prayed for this day and despaired of it ever coming. I thought of my mother-in-law specifically, who had said years before to me that I was searching and would end up in the Catholic Church (and who was treated with one of those polite, tolerant smiles), and who upon hearing where God had lead me never said “I told you so”, and who gave me dh’s grandmothers rosary for my very first. I thought of my father, who taught me so much of the faith, who recently suffered a stroke and had emergency quadruple bypass surgery, from whom I am estranged, have not spent time with in almost six years, have not spoken to for one. I thought of how he was probably sitting in his easy chair at home, reading his Bible as usual, completely unaware of this incredible event in our lives, and I thought how much I would have liked to share it with him. I also thought, as I looked down the double row on the dais stairs … catechists in front, sponsors behind… how God has never left me empty, always given in return for any loss I have experienced and mourned, and how those people standing with me represented the most important of those. (I have lost and longed for my family, God gave me my husband and children. I have lost and longed for the bond- friendship and blessing- a sister brings, God gave me Tracy. I have lost a ‘home church’ and community which knew me and to which I belonged and of which I was a known and contributing part, God gave me the people among and with whom I stood and the church which surrounded us.) As Father reached Pumpkin, my eldest, and Confirmed her, I thought of how this journey was as much hers as it had been mine… how she had struggled in the beginning and how God had reached down to answer her questions in such a way that she knew He had answered her and shown her His will in her life. I thought of how much it meant to be standing before the Church professing our faith together, and how much it meant to finally be worshipping as a family.

After being Confirmed, we sat back down as the collections were taken, and then went back to bring forward the gifts for the first time. We sat down and Father began to prepare the gifts. All that had gone before was precious, was special, but this… this was the most important to me in a way. All through the Sacraments there had been something… something different and I simply can’t find the words for it. Call it a heightened awareness maybe… while participating with those around me, there was another level of * something * that was in the background, spiritual awareness perhaps? That marriage of spirit and soul that we have as believers?. At this point however, that other awareness/concentration/focus, became the primary one, almost to the exclusion of everything else. A time or two I thought, I need to be paying attention to the girls, remember they are involved in this too… but despite the glance I would give them, I was drawn yet again to the consecration of the gifts on the table. Emotion welled in my mind, in my heart, in my throat, in my eyes… as it has done many times in the past year (as I watched the preparation of gifts I could not share) and yet stronger, though that seems impossible. At last it was time to come to the Table and we were to partake first as new communicants. I bowed in reverence to the Host, cupped my hands, Father presented the Host to me saying, “Anne, the Body of Christ” to which I replied Amen, stepped to the side, placed the host in my mouth, made the sign of the cross, and moved to the Cup. I had done pretty well up to this point, despite the heightened state I was in… probably because I REALLY didn’t want to be sobbing uncontrollably when taking Communion for the first time. Charmaine, pastoral associate, RCIA director, and VERY dear friend to me was the minister of the Cup. As I stopped in front of her she said, “Anne, the Blood of Christ” with tears streaming down her face, one of the few people who REALLY understood what this meant to me… and I lost it. I said Amen, I took the cup, but I was suppressing tears to the point that I was shaking, tears streaming down my face despite my efforts, eyes so full I couldn’t see the Blood to gauge when it would touch my lips. As I went back to my place, so caught up in where I was spiritually that I nearly forgot we were on the front row, I barely registered my children receiving behind me, and by the time my eyes had cleared enough to see, they were all back beside me, one hugged back to my belly, one against my side, the other two reaching hands over to me, so concerned because I was crying. No sooner had I reassured them that it was ok, it was happy tears, than Tracy was taking the Cup. After, she turned to me, tears running down her face and gave me a hug that went on forever… both of us bawling… she also is one of those few people who know… she is the one God used (amid much protest) to start me on this journey, she is the one who knew before I did. Her presence there was so important, more special to me than I can ever express… it simply wouldn’t have been the same without her. It was so good to be truly sisters at last. I understand now what my husband said about his first communion… how he spent the rest of the day in prayer. There was more to do, a reception, dinner for the families (ours and Tracy’s), limited time left to fellowship with Tracy’s family before they had to leave for home (and yes, a bottle of the good Roederer chilled at home to be opened in celebration) … and yet the desire for time to stop, the church to magically be temporarily empty, so that I could just kneel for the longest time in prayer and adoration was strong within me.

We followed Father out, and were hurried over to the Hall for a punch and cake reception receiving line. I asked Pumpkin, my eldest, if my make-up was completely ruined due to all the crying. She looked at me quite seriously, opened her mouth and emphatically said, “Yes.” I cracked up. Oh well, it didn’t matter… I was too happy to care.

I remember thinking at the time how much like a wedding it was. The feeling was very similar, the joy, the natural high… only better, infinitely better. A foretaste of heaven perhaps. I’m not sure I felt the ground for the rest of that day, and part of the next.

We were given many gifts both before and after our Initiation. Each one was so precious and special, adding to the beauty of the day.

-The Weight of a Mass for Seraiah from Tracy, read before in preparation.
-Pendants from Tracy in memory of the day.
-Five white roses from Charmaine, one for each of us.
-A card, along with My Daily Bread from MaryatHome. (What a beautiful surprise from a fellow sister on the forum… and I have been reading through it daily since.)
-Cards for each of us from our neighbors and friends who also attend our church, John, Kathryn, the boys and of course, Avery.
-Crosses on ribbon for each of us from Marjorie, one of the girls sponsors.
-The Church gave each of the girls a holy water font for their rooms.
-Charmaine gave each of us hand-knitted booties, specially made for us in our favorite colors.
-The church choir, which normally does not sing during that time or at that Mass, showed up en masse and made such a beautiful contribution of music that one person mentioned how much it felt like Easter.

Each of these people, along with many others who attended the Mass out of friendship, sponsorship etc, helped make this day so very special.

I said “I am home” at the beginning. That is true, but in the same way that catholic is not Catholic, this ‘home’ is also a shadow of what is to come. I am home, but I am not yet Home. However, I know that this home God has led me to now, will assist me in finally reaching that Home for which I still long, and make the journey richer than I could ever have hoped or dreamed.

To God alone be the glory, now and forever. Amen.

 

It is time, and I am torn…

So I have spent the past 7 or 8 months in RCIA preparing for this very Initiation into the Church. Sunshine’s (dd 7 yrs) baptismal robe and alb are hemmed and ready, Tracy (my best friend) has completed her preparations and their family is on the road, reservations have been made at the hotel for them (hot water heater just wouldn’t hold up to 11 getting cleaned up…), and only practice remains. (Ok, so I can’t find my good black skirt and will have to go shopping… that isn’t a big deal…) *Ahem*  These months have been very good for me, and several of my close friends agree on this.  That said, I am struggling with some odd feelings. 

I had about a week (maybe two) of feeling incredibly unworthy to come to the Table… I mean some REAL hesitation… which God had already prepared for with some of my reading which addressed this EXACT issue.  SO even as I was thinking that and feeling that hesitation, I could hear that passage from the book I’d read in my mind battling it, and telling me how it was important to come to the Table anyway.

That dealt with, now I’m having these feelings of ‘maybe I should’ve waited for Easter Vigil… maybe I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry… etc, etc, etc…’ and yet I KNOW how I suffered at the thought of waiting, I KNOW how the 7 or 8 months looked at the get go (remember, these were only the last months in a journey of YEARS), and I know too that the patience, the acceptance of the wait is part of the fruit of those 8 months.  It isn’t that I’m changing my mind, or hesitating, but more of a questioning of is this God’s timing or is it mine?  (Yes, I know I overthink things but roll with me here…)  Then in Morning Prayers it occurs to me (I think a lot in Morning Prayers, as you can tell from recent posts… it is a very full, intense 20 minutes…) anyway, it occurs to me that as much as I am looking forward to this Initiation ceremony, there IS a bit of ‘stress’ associated, if you know what I mean.  The very participation factor changes  how you come at it… and the reassuring thought came to me that I will be able to enjoy Easter Vigil MORE being fully initiated as I won’t have the ‘participation stress factor’ to deal with. 

These are the musings that roll about in my mind like stones in a riverbed  these last days…

 

The Schedule is Set…

Jan 7th  Presentation of the Creed at Mass to Sunshine (dd 7 yrs) who will be Baptised as well as being Confirmed and coming to the Eucharist for the first time.

Jan 8th Preparation for a Scrutiny all together

Jan 14th  11:00 am Celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation for everyone except Seraiah. (It will be First Reconciliation for Pumpkin (dd 13 yrs), Precious (dd 10 yrs), and Cricket (dd 8 yrs).

Jan 14th  Celebrate the Scrutiny with Sunshine at Mass

Jan 20th  Preparatory Rites around 1pm

Jan 21st  Initiation to the Catholic Church at Mass

Jan 29th   Period of Mystagogy- A Reflection on the Rite

 

The Liturgical Year…

RCIA tonight… I ended up sailing in a lovely ten minutes late.  Poor scheduling on my part as Joe had a reception associated with the hospital tonight which I also was to attend.  45 minutes there, a wild 20 minute drive, and a wet run into the church saved the evening.  As badly as I wanted to stay for the reception, no way was I going to miss an RCIA class.  Just not worth it. 

Tonight we covered The Liturgical Year.  I already knew quite a bit about it anyway, but what really got me was the description given by the team of the way each different portion of the year is celebrated.

 I am looking forward to celebrating my first Advent as a Catholic (ok, unofficial Catholic of the heart), and the New Year will bring rare sweetness as the girls and I complete the Sacraments of Initiation by receiving the Sacraments of Confirmation and First Communion (as well as Seraiah’s Baptism).  I have so long been looking forward to full reception into the Catholic Church and after at least 15 years of background learning and experiences in which God ‘set me up’ as another convert said, it has taken at least a year and a half of intense spiritual study and some MAJOR movement by God in my life to get me here.  What a fantastic journey it has been and I have to admit that as this journey has been winding to a close, I am not without spiritual exercise as the Lord is having me reevaluate my daily life in the light of The Mother’s Rule and under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  It is hardly light fare, and yet after the past year and a half it seems light and I will admit to questioning… isn’t there something more?  Is it already time for a winter of the soul?  It seems time, and yet even as I’ve feasted so greatly upon things of the Lord, even now I hunger for more.  Which brings me back to my original point… and perhaps explains my feelings… 

The real treasure in tonight’s class was not The Liturgical Calendar, but how the events in the Liturgical Year are celebrated… at least in our parish.  As the ladies began to tell us about the special events of the year, and how they are celebrated.  My anticipation grew as we discussed Advent, then Christmas, then the small bit of Ordinary Time, on to Lent, and when we reached the Easter Triduum, it burst over me.  Such an incredible desire to worship the Lord in this cycle culminating in the Easter Triduum, the incredible urge to pay homage to the empty cross myself… and suddenly my perspective transformed…  The completion of the Sacraments of Initiation are both an ending and a beginning. I knew this of course, but it isn’t the same, head knowledge compared to real VISION is like gestation compared to life.  A whole new vista has burst on the horizon, a vision of the new life God has called me to and has been preparing me for.  My anticipation of Confirmation and First Communion has only increased as I long for the fullness and richness of what lies “further up and further in”.

 

The Rosary and Other Musings…

One of the biggest surprises, as I have delved further into all things Catholic, has been the Rosary.  As a protestant, I was very disturbed by all the Marian devotions… at best it seemed idolatry, at worst there were tales of equality with Jesus which just set every last hair afire.  A friend recommended a book on the Rosary that she uses with her children, Speak Lord, I am Listening: A Rosary Book, and so I placed an order.  I had a plastic freebie rosary from the church we used to attend, and thought I’d give it a try even though I was certain that the rosary wasn’t for me. 

The book arrived and I began to flip through it.  First, you make the sign of the cross and say the Apostles Creed… ok… no biggie there. I believe all that and lately I even can say the ‘Catholic church’ part now without mentally screeching “BY CATHOLIC I MEAN UNIVERSAL NOT ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH” which was quite the step forward if I do say so myself.  Then you say the Our Father.

 After that comes three Hail Mary’s… but not just Hail Mary’s for the sake of saying Hail Mary’s.  Each of the three beads represents a virtue… so the first bead is a Hail Mary for an increase in Faith.  The second bead is a Hail Mary for an increase of Hope, and the last bead’s Hail Mary is for an increase in Love. 

Then when you hold the next Our Father bead, you state the Mysteries you are going to pray, name the first mystery of that set, say the scripture for that, and then pray the Our Father. Then there is a scripture for EACH Hail Mary bead that you read and then meditate on as you SAY the Hail Mary for that bead. 

I soon realized that the Rosary wasn’t really ABOUT Mary at all!!!  It was a meditation and prayer on the life of Christ!  Something that I really hadn’t done hardly at ALL as a protestant and certainly not something that was encouraged as a part of daily devotions! Sure, it was Marian to the extent that you quote what the scriptures say about Mary repeatedly and ask that she pray for you and for all sinners now and at the hour of our death, but how is that any different than asking a living friend in the faith to pray for you? Are not those who have gone before living?  Of course they are… the only Marian thing about the Rosary is that it seems to have been given by/inspired by Mary as her way of encouraging us to meditate and dwell upon the life of her son, our mutual Savior.

I have learned much in the brief time that I’ve been praying the rosary and it has become a joyful time of prayer when my girls and I pray it aloud together.  Primarily I pray a scriptural rosary, but a friend has written up scriptural rosaries for praying for your children, and one of consecration based on the story of the Carmelite Martyrs of Compeigne as told in To Quell the Terror, which I also pray.  I am so excited by how greatly my prayer life and meditation is enriched by this.

Some of the biggest protestant ‘issues’ with the Catholic church that I was aware of before becoming Catholic have been proven completely unfounded not only by what I’ve learned in RCIA classes and observed on my own, but also by simply praying the rosary and what I’ve learned while doing that.

 It was said that Catholics worship Mary.  They don’t worship Mary, the Roman Catholic church doesn’t advocate worship of Mary and the Rosary isn’t worship of Mary.

It was said that Catholics don’t read the Bible. I have never been a slouch at Bible study etc, but I am becoming even more fully immersed in scripture than ever through my ‘conversion’ process in the Catholic Church.  Every time I turn around I’m being encouraged to read scripture, given a Bible with the apocrypha because I didn’t have one, given a lectionary with the reading schedules for Sunday Mass for YEARS to come and encouraged to read them ahead of time in preparation each week, even my penance for First Reconciliation was meditation on scripture and prayer.  Instead of the ‘quiet time’ touted by protestants, this is a life SATURATED with scripture.  It is unbelievable!

It was said that Catholics left Christ on the cross, not only because of the crucifix but also in their attitude about life and faith.  On the contrary I have found that the resurrection is just as celebrated and embraced as it ever was in the protestant circles, if not more, but Catholicism has traditions in place that will not let them forget the price paid for the salvation we enjoy and all too often that was not dwelt on nearly enough in the churches I attended. 

I have found the Catholic church more understanding and forgiving when someone fails or falls short of the mark, less likely to shoot their wounded, more willing to come along side to encourage and help you back onto the straight and narrow. The people I have come to know in our Church are much less concerned about appearances and much MORE concerned with the welfare of the person and state of their heart. For example, the evening we had the Rite of Welcome one of the alter servers had leaned the crucifix against the door.  A regularly attending parishioner and his wife opened the door only to have the crucifix slide over and hit one of them hard in the head.  The husband reacted with a rather loud, “OH SH*T!” and everyone in the sanctuary turned to look but the reaction was what made me laugh and smile for the rest of the evening.  The general reaction was not shock and offense that the House of the Lord was somehow desecrated by the use of profanity (as would’ve happened in any protestant church I’ve ever attended), instead it was concern for the people involved… were they ok? Once it was ascertained that no real injury had been sustained, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief and turned back to the front to wait for the Mass to begin.  What joy that brought me!

I digress but I get so excited about what I’m experiencing and learning.  The riches and blessings God has poured out upon us are overwhelming and the desire to share is intense.  However this post has run long and it is late and I need to go if we’re going to get to have evening prayers as a family.

 

Fall Has Come…

Emotion as evidence of God’s presence or any issue of our walk or faith is never to be trusted, but there are definite seasons in the life of faith and mine has cycled again.  The soul is quieter of late.  The time of intense, intimate fellowship with God in Spirit, of learning and understanding has mellowed into a time of obedience, a time of implementing what I have been taught and walking by faith … not by sight or sound of whispered voice.  It is not a lack of God’s presence, rather a quiet assurance that remains where the intense presence used to be.

The RCIA classes continue to reinforce some of what God has taught me over the past year and a half.  Reviewing concepts, reinforcing understanding, giving time for more meditative thought.  It continues to surprise me how far God has moved me… and yet I am so completely moved.  There have been times in my life when I’ve felt that peace that passes understanding, but of late it has become almost a perpetual presence.  Somewhere in this journey I have let go and begun to trust at a deeper level than before. While my faith has grown, it is still far from a mustard seed… I keep praying, Lord, give me faith, not the size of a mustard seed, but the size of a Job’s Tear… I am not only doing things I thought I’d never do, but being greatly blessed by them as well.  Praying the Rosary, going to Adoration, searching for biographies on Saints, among other things.  I am finding myself longing for deeper fellowship… though I am greatly fed, I also feel as though I’m starving at times… Not a spiritual failure to thrive, because I AM thriving… but such a HUNGER..  It is not the same hunger I feel to come to the table for the Eucharist, but it is not unlike it either.  Oddly, interwoven with the hunger is also a deep well of patience… a willingness to wait upon the Lord, and to allow HIS time to be MY time.  It is clear to me that it is completely Christ and none of myself since I have never been the best at delayed gratification…not to mention that anything good in me has never been of myself…but only of Christ within me.

We have added morning prayers (and a portion of the rosary) to our day and when we are well and able, join the staff at the church for them.  It is such a wonderful way to start our day… yet another blessing of living in a small town. It would take entirely too much out of the day to have done it in College Station.  What joy to hear my children’s voices raised in song to praise, in chanting the psalms and scriptures, in prayer to petition.  Each new practice we add to our lives to bring us closer to the Lord will surely be a helpful framework for the next winter of my soul that is surely coming.  It is not a lack of faith which makes me say so, or dread… but rather the sure knowledge that it will come as it has before.  It is ever a time of trial when the presence of God has withdrawn from me and it is out of love, by faith that I walk, a time when all that has come before, and all that is new, will be tested. 

Even so Lord, even so.

 

RCIA and Homeschooling Collide…

We have RCIA on Sundays now that it is fall and the regular catechism classes have resumed.  Classes are more frequent than they were in the summer, which I very much enjoy.  My eldest daughter and I go to RCIA together, as she is mature enough to be able to benefit from the adult class and, if she weren’t so reserved, contribute appropriately.  Every week I go to class with great anticipation.  I really enjoy the discussion and fellowship, but so far not much has really been new.  It has mostly been a review of what I have already learned… which is fine, I still look forward to it and wish we could be meeting more frequently and covering more material. Yesterday’s class on the history of the church proved very similar, but it was interesting for other reasons.  For one thing, Father Joe led which is unusual and a treat, but also because I thought this class had even more likelihood of having some new tidbit which I hadn’t known before.  As Father led us through about ten of the most important events in the history of the church, I began to realize that we had covered all this in our schoolwork!  I use a Classical Christian curriculum which is produced by a protestant company (not that I cared one way or another when I purchased it), and have used it since well before I felt the call into the Catholic Church.  In fact, as we studied through it I remarked several times on how odd it was how much we were learning about the Catholic Church and how if I didn’t know better I would think it was a Catholic curriculum.  Either way I loved it and still plan to use it as it is for the most part very pro-Catholic.  But I digress, point being just how wonderful it was to sit and enjoy hearing about it all from Father Joe’s perspective and to know that Pumpkin had background knowledge and understanding of what he was talking about.  It was so rewarding to know that we are doing well in educating the children.  So often we work and work but have no idea really how well we are doing until something happens like this, something that we can write in our ‘success story file’ to encourage us when all the homeschool days seem dark and we feel like rats on a wheel.

I know the week will go quickly and while I want to make the most of the time I have and not wish it away, I can’t help but look forward to next weeks class… as usual.

 

Blessed be the Messenger…

One of the things most protestants have a hard time with coming into the Catholic church is confession.  I hit that wall early in my marriage when dealing with the differences between Baptist doctrine and Catholic doctrine.  Since my husband and I both had decided that scripture was the tie that binds, and the final word, I began to search.  I found, much to my chagrin, that scripture was on HIS side.  So, as I tend to do when I realize that I was wrong, I realigned my beliefs/thoughts/opinions accordingly.

That made it a LOT easier, when God finally made clear His purpose and His call for me to join the Catholic Church, to think about celebrating the Sacrament of Reconciliation for the first time.  That said, it still wasn’t easy.  I mean come on, going into the confessional and catching up for lost time (33 years of it) isn’t exactly a fun thing.  However, I tackled it with the same enthusiasm I would a toothache… let’s get it over and done with as soon as possible!  To that end I learned what I could about it, picked up some materials on making a good examination of your conscience in preparation and began my list, all before ever stepping foot in the  church for the RCIA process.  Oh, I knew I would go through that, but it never occurred to me that it would take SO long to get to start (upcoming move to Illinois slowed everything down by six months at least).  In the end, I had quite the lengthy list, even after being told that you didn’t have to be specific.  Grouping sins together generically by type and number (if possible which often wasn’t), made creating the list possible, but it was still substantial.  In despair, I mentioned to a friend (also Catholic by conversion) that it was going to take multiple sessions with the priest, no WAY could I cover it all in one sitting.  She laughed… knowingly.  In the end, I not only got a grasp on what needed to be covered but began to anticipate my first confession.

It is a bit of a strange thing to WANT to go to confession… and you tend to question your sanity too when you are coming from a protesant background anyway.  Yet there I was, ready to make my first confession, looking forward to it eagerly.  Move over, the girls and I had begun the RCIA process at our local parish.  WONDERFUL people there, the woman who led the RCIA process in particular won my heart instantly. So when my desire for my first confession did not abate, I went to her and asked if I could do that, and how to go about it.  She said she would talk to our priest, but that normally we did that a little closer to coming  into the church formally.  I confess to feeling dread.  However, I knew that she would try and that is all I could ask.  Time went by and when no word came, I knew that once again I would have to wait.

Waiting is hard, and tempting too.  The opposition knows how to make an area of weakness appear in what would seem at first only a stronghold.  I began to hear the tempting whispers of “but you haven’t gone to confession yet” in my head.  I fought against it, but this new method of temptation only made my desire to go to confession stronger.  Most of the time I won, sometimes I blew it.  All the while, the desire to go to confession condensed and concentrated.

Last week we covered the Sacrament of First Reconciliation in  our RCIA class and our leader had told me we could go to first confession  shortly after that the week before.  Anticipation once again rearing it’s ugly head, I asked the woman who lead the class if we could do so.  She didn’t know, would check, but that usually they wanted that to happen a  few weeks before the ceremony and that isn’t until sometime after Christmas! I fought the disappointment, welcoming this new possible wait  as I have the one for coming to the table (whole ‘nother story), as the Lord’s way of preparing me  more fully for what is to come.  The request had been passed on however and in passing our leader told me that she would check on it with Father.

Then today, on Friday of all days, the phone rang.  Children came running with the  phone, happily announcing the identity of the caller.  It was our RCIA leader, almost as dear to the girls as she is to me.  She had good news that couldn’t wait she said… even though Father probably intended to tell me on Sunday at class, she just couldn’t wait to share the good news.  Father had given the ok for us to have our first confessions.  (She meant the girls and I as we are all coming into the church together.)  I was SO excited… the timing of her call means that I could conceivably go to the regular confession time tomorrow at the church.  I can’t tell you the joy that exploded through me at this news, and dear, true friend, she was as excited FOR me as I was myself.

Isn’t that an amazing type of friend? The kind who when bearing good news runs to you, as excited for you as you are yourself, wholeheartedly, genuinely joyful for you… and especially a friend who so desires to help you as you seek to grow in the Lord.  That is a precious gift indeed, and all too rare a find.  Such joy her tidings brought to me, that even hours later the glow remains, along with the sweet anticipation of what tomorrow brings.