My story (part IV)

Happy Wednesday to ya'll!

It's cccooolld here. I can't believe this is August!

Onward with the story! Where did I leave off?

So Doug became a Catholic Christian. We tried all different combinations of church attendance for a number of years. Often Doug would go to an early mass and then attend the non-denominational church with the kids and I. Occasionally the kids and I would accompany him to the Catholic Church. For me the Catholic Church was so foreign and awkward. Very different from what I was used to. The vestments the priests wore were so strange to me. It appeared to me that the priest felt himself so high and mighty that he wore such elaborate coverings. He sat in a chair that was almost throne-like. I felt it hypocritical. And what's all this standing, kneeling, reciting all about?

These years were quite lonely for me. In our original church in Minnesota we had such a fantastic network of friendships and community. But then we moved a couple of times. First for training in Doug's new job field and then for his first official placement in the field. So finding friendships amongst the moving and the busyness of the new parenting life was challenging.  More than anything it was difficult to establish community in our lives because of the juggling of churches we were trying to keep up. It is so essential in thriving faith communities to build strong bonds. We were finding it impossible to establish these bonds by going to two churches.

When we moved to Washington Doug worked the night shift. Often he worked the night shift and also worked on weekends. So he would go to church on his own between shifts sometimes and I would take the kids to a Bible church. It was awkward for me to attend church on Sunday alone with the kids. If I ever explained that my husband was a Catholic convert, I would feel the judgement. Now I probably often jumped to conclusions in my mind. I can do that. Bad habit. :(  Still, what I perceived was a certain pity and superiority in the air. It drove me nuts. I wanted to tell these people, "You know don't me. You don't understand my husband. He is a good, faithful man. His journey is a well thought out one. He isn't just jumping off the deep end." I didn't understand that journey myself but I knew it wasn't a naive adoption of some random new truths.

Let me take a brief rabbit trail here. I noticed something in this journey from the very beginning. Never once did I feel the conviction that I needed to convince Doug of anything. I never, ever felt it was my place to try to convince him that the Catholic Church is wrong. Never. In my prayers I simply felt the call to keep following Jesus. I felt convicted that if I did that, eventually all the details would be worked out by God Himself.

Ultimately, I trusted my husband and I trusted God's work in his life. I was baffled by it all but I tried not to think about it too much lest my brains would burst. ;) Consequently, I came to a place where I would be amused about the position I found myself in. Mr. Doug is a theology-loving machine. He can't help but talk about these things ALL. THE. TIME. So I couldn't help but learn some Catholic theology along the way. I didn't believe in the tenets of Catholicism myself but I picked up many things by osmosis. So the humorous position I found myself undertaking at times would be one of the Catholic apologist sympathizer. I didn't embrace Catholicism and I didn't agree with my husband but I understood to some extent where he was coming from. And I loved him. So often I would find myself defending him and his faith. I would explain what the Catholics believe in a simple way. "Well, you see they aren't worshiping saints, its like this . . . . " And then I'd laugh to myself. Isn't this just weird? Never thought I'd be defending Catholicism. 

Anywho . . . Washington. So we were attending two churches. Eventually, I got to a breaking point. This couldn't be done. We needed some sort of unity here. Our sense of family was most important. I felt no longer comfortable in the non-denominational church. I didn't like to go alone and misunderstood when I did. So I decided to give all that up and go to church with Doug each Sunday. I knew I could find Jesus there. Every Sunday Scripture is read in bulk. There is always an old testament reading, a psalm, an epistle and a gospel read aloud.

I didn't recognize it at the time but later I would think of my transition using this analogy. It was liked I moved to a foreign country with my spouse. Catholic-land. Different language, different customs, etc. This analogy fit very well for me. The funny thing is that I NEVER felt the pity and superiority that I had felt elsewhere. (actually I have since experienced it once. once in the hundreds of Catholics I have met)  The natives of this land accepted me in sincerity. They didn't flinch when I explained I wasn't Catholic. They treated me with respect and sincere friendship. It was a little lonely and odd in this new land but it was kind and sincere. That I could do. I knew I would never completely feel like "one of the gang" unless I undertook citizenship. But people do live whole lifetimes as foreigners in another land. It can be done.

Fortunately, this period in our journey was not too bad. It has been awkward during the Mass when it comes time for the congregation to receive the Eucharist. This always makes me nervy. Usually I grab the baby or toddler and head for the back. Babies and toddlers in church have been tiring to hold for an entire mass but also a convenient excuse. I mean, what's a person to do? I didn't believe in the reality of the Eucharist and it is awkward for me to not go forward when everyone else is. I literally would just be in the way of everyone else walking forward.

My way of making life bearable in this foreign land was to embrace what I was comfortable embracing. Of course, during the Mass itself I could sing with all my heart many of the songs. I could sincerely pray the intentions. The Scripture readings were food for my soul.

I also begin to appreciate the liturgical seasons of the year. That made sense to me. It gelled with the integration of life that Doug and I always talked about. The book of Ecclesiastes says "There is a season for everything . . ." It's such an organic theme that makes sense to my mind. I'm a food lover and a bit of a "natural" girl. So it makes sense that I cook what is in season. It is economical for our world and good for one's body to eat seasonally. It only goes to say that the same idea would work in the life of the Church and in one's heart and soul as well. There is a time to feast and a time to fast. A time to mourn and a time to dance. There is a time to sow and a time to reap. You have the "purple" seasons in the church. The sober times when the church considers turning from our sins and practices discipline to do so. We think of Jesus's forty days of trial in the desert. Then there are times are the times we celebrate the victory of Christ's victory over sin and death. The "white" season of Easter. Aha, the various colors of the priest's vestments started making sense.

Also on the Church's liturgical calendar are the daily Scripture readings. This also made good sense to me. So throughout each and every year, we follow the life of Christ and the Church. As we follow those events, we read about it in Scripture. In fact, if you follow the readings you will read through the Bible in its entirety again and again and again. We learn something new each time and hopefully grow in faith every time we walk through the year.  This process I found I could joyfully bring into the life and education of my whole family. And into my personal devotions. It was good to be reading the same passages and following the same events as my husband and bring the children into it as well. It is a good and unifying thing to be able to go into any Catholic Church on a Sunday in the whole world and be reading the same readings. A huge Bible study!!  (IF one chooses to follow along)

So we've been in this place for some time now. Worshiping Jesus in our home but also together in the same building, establishing community with those around us, and celebrating the Church year together. I have still been living in a foreign land. I haven't been a citizen here but living amongst cousins in the Lord has been tolerable, good even. The people are kind and welcoming. I have had a genuine affection for the land, the people, and many of the customs.