Going with a Different Perspective and Purpose

Saturday evening, my husband asked if I wanted to go to Mass and then just have a day at home since our usual schedule was cancelled for that weekend.  I said that I would like to go to Mass (I had not been in months).

Over the course of the evening, I thought about it.  I was a bit apprehensive to go because of my last experience at Mass.  I had felt a great emptiness and like I was a phony, just there to glean something from the aesthetics and pretend I had something I didn't, was something I wasn't.  After soul-searching and going through some things, including profound dreams, I came to understand that it is OK to be myself.  To love what I love.  To worship how I prefer to worship.  To dress how I prefer to dress.  None of it is outside the bounds of Christendom.  I have a conscience.  I feel my convictions strongly.

It is not a sin to attend, participate in, and enjoy Mass.

That hurdle overtaken, I moved on to the next issue, my appearance.  I felt very strongly that I should wear a mantilla.  I know that if I were a confirmed, practicing Catholic that I would most definitely veil at Mass.  I have always felt strongly about it.  But, it was bad enough I dress to Vatican standards for Mass and I'm not Catholic.  Should I "upstage" the Catholics and wear a full-on veil, too?

It wasn't until I realized just how humbling it is to go against the flow, AND to realize that for the most part other people aren't so easily scandalized or worrisome over such things.  Besides, if people can shop Walmart in their pajamas, I can wear a veil to Mass.  Just like with everyone else, it is between me and God.  I got to Mass and I didn't notice if anyone stared at me, and I didn't dart my eyes around judging everyone else.  I was there, God and me.  That was enough.

Oh, and what a gift Mass was!  They had an organist and a canter who had a clear, heavenly soprano.  She placed herself in the organ loft, which I far prefer to them being up front because I can just listen and not be distracted by any "performance" intended or unintended.  The hymns were classic pieces that really mean something deep and profound.  I was in heaven (pun intended).

The homily was special, too, and gave me a better understanding of Our Lady and her role.  My mother argues that Mary would NEVER agree to the veneration Catholics give her.  No, indeed.  She knows her place as a human just like the rest of us.  But, she also knows her place as given to her by God.  The veneration we humans offer her is not because she demands it, but rather it is a gift.  When Mary said she'd be called blessed, she wasn't exalting herself, but recognizing basic Truth and humbly accepting the gift!

The father of the prodigal son venerated his wayward and returned son, not because the son deserved it, but as a gift, a blessing, a joy, a praise.

I originally intended to leave at communion.  It is incredibly humbling to feel that I ought to dress according to Vatican Standards, and veil, and be the only one to do so, and not be Catholic, and not be able to go up for the Eucharist. I felt it would be better to just slip out.  But, then the organist started playing Ave Maria.  The canter sang it beautifully with such feeling and worship, I just knelt and cried.

Oh, crying.  I hate crying in front of others.  I went to a church where emotions were drummed out of us and I would leave drained and sick from the roller coaster.  But, this was different.  It was humbling to cry, but I felt so filled, and it was so beautiful to let the tears fall.  I didn't feel drained and worn out.  I didn't feel it was forced out of me.  It was just so natural and I was able to let me go and let worship happen.

After Mass, I walked out into the cool, October air as the bells of the other Catholic Church on the hill rang out over the city, over the valley.  I just sat in my vehicle and listened to them.

This.

This was church.

This is how I've dreamed church to be.  This is how I love to worship, and yet I allow people and theologies and opinions and modernism to take that away from me.  I allow them to tell me I am wrong to feel this way, think this way, believe this way, need this way.

I want to be Catholic.

Did you ever read a book or watch a movie or TV show that inspired you to be a better person?  That just made sense to you and filled you?  You walked away from it glowing, filled, inspired, with a vision.  That's how Catholicism makes me feel.

And yet, I am told it is wrong, displeases God, and I need to submit myself to a church that leaves me barren because it is "more right" than other churches based on the general theology of those who claim to know better than me.

Yes, there are Catholic beliefs that I am unsure of.  There are beliefs that seem very odd to me and that I question.  I've tried.  I've tried to go back to my evangelical roots, yet I am in agony when I submit to them.  However, I feel tremendous peace when I submit to my Catholic roots.

But, how?  How can I become Catholic?  It would cause such a scandal in my family.  Am I willing to lose my soul, though, my personhood to please others?  I've already done so for almost 40 years!  I am profoundly unhappy in my current state.

For once in my life my unhappiness is outweighing my fear.

I need courage.  I don't need to pretend, anymore.