What's Taking So Long?!

I've lost count, but I believe my journey home to Rome has thus far been a 3 to 4 year trek.  Excitement seems to have fizzled among my Catholic friends, though their prayers have not.  My closest family is getting tired of my waffling.  My priest is waiting for this mysterious lurker to come out of the shadows and contact him.

Pandemic aside, what in the world is keeping me from coming into full communion with the Catholic Church?

Throughout my journey I've had several large hurdles to jump through.  I've learned a lot about myself and have been able to delve into my own psychology more deeply and in an eye-opening and maturing way.  None of them were really doctrinal.  I could fairly easily intellectually conclude the Catholic Faith.  It was mostly psychological/relational.  I'll break down the hurdles:

1.  Tradition, aesthetics, and that old-fashioned feeling:

I love history and tradition, which are things that drew me to Catholicism to begin with.  However, I idolize it to the point of believing quite strongly that life was far better back then and that the nostalgic warm-fuzzy feeling I get about it is indication of rightness.  If I feel that emotion, I must be in the right.  Evidence of this idolatry came within my first 3 months attending Mass.  I got all dressed up in trad-approved church garb, veil included, looking quite pious and old-fashioned.  I attended the beautiful old church, went to Latin Mass, and cried the first time I heard the pipe organ.  But, I also balked at the guitar, the casual dress of the cradle Catholics, and the complete lack of veils.  It ruined my dreams of traditional aesthetics.

I had to step back and reevaluate exactly why I was on this journey.  Was I looking for the outward or the inner?  Was I draw to Catholicism because of the story I wrote in my own mind about it?  Am I dressing this way to play a role or to honor God?  I cannot commit to an entire faith walk simply because the church is pretty and organ sounds nice and I get warm-fuzzy feelings.  Catholicism is Catholicism in the glorious Cathedrals and in the muddy trenches.  It's in the FSSP tradition and in the modernist building with felt banners and guitars and tambourines.  Am I there for Christ, or to pretend?

Once I sorted myself out on those fronts, which included not going to Mass for a while I considering going back to an evangelical church, I had to face the next hurdle.

2.  My family:

My husband and children do not share this journey with me.  While my husband is supportive for my own sake, it bothers me that we are no longer united.  In fact, they have quit church attendance all together and it seems Covid-19 lockdowns were the final nail in that coffin.  I have battled the idea that perhaps it is better for us to attend an easy, basic evangelical church as a united family than for me to be Catholic alone while they fall into a sort of apathetic deism.  I told my husband that if he has a church he wants to attend, I will go along, honoring him as spiritual leader of the family.  He doesn't.  I received some counsel on the matter and was informed that I am no use to my family if I deny my conscience.  Furthermore, I am not the weight-bearer of my husband's spiritual choices.

With that hurdle past, it was time to face the big one:

3.  My mother:

I love my mother dearly, but she, an ex-Catholic, is very anti-Catholic and full of modern evangelical protestant lies about Catholicism, the main one being that "Catholics aren't saved."  Or at least Catholics don't have the assurance of salvation.  In other words, though not said in these words, "Catholics go to hell."  I kept my Catholic-seeking as closeted as possible from her, but somehow word got around to her about my journey.  We had big discussions, but I was able to keep them as just discussions by assuring her that I wasn't making any decisions.  I had no idea how I'd manage to tell her I wanted to join.  I went so far as suggesting to my husband that we move away, and I even considered waiting to join after my mother passed, which, with my family's longevity, could be another 30 years!

My mother provided the hurdle-crossing for me, though, with a difficult phone call.  Without going into details, we are well, she and I, but now I am "out of the closet" and can more freely pursue joining the Catholic Church.

My next hurdle I realized just this past Sunday.

4.  Facing more of my narratives and personal responsibility:

I have this little hope and dream that my priest would reach out to me.  I'd come running like a little girl to her daddy if he would only initiate our relationship as Father and congregant.  Don't get me wrong, he has invited me to contact him two or three times, and it's hard to be welcoming when I slip out a different door away from where he is greeting people after Mass. There have been a few times our paths crossed, usually when he had to exit quickly for another engagement, and I hoped he would cast an eye my way and give me brief instruction or make an appointment.

This past Sunday, I finally was able to attend Mass.  To follow guidelines for the ongoing pandemic, all visitors are to joined the communion procession for the Eucharist or for a blessing, and then immediately exit.  This would be my actually first face to face, one on one meeting with my priest, brief as it would be.  I was excited and my silly wheels started churning out my typical fictional tales. My knees actually shook in anticipation.  It was my turn.  I was hurried to my priest.  I looked up with wide child-like eyes into his, I received the typical blessing, but nothing else.  *POP* went my party balloon.

I wasn't angry.  I wasn't really upset.  I was simply struck with reality and my own silliness.  In a wave of personal embarrassment, I exited, and fought back additional narratives of him seeing right through me and disapproving, or perhaps I did the whole thing wrong.  Was I wrong to look him in the eyes?

My hands shook as I made use of the hand sanitizer near the back door, and tears stung at my eyes.  The petulant child in me, and I am sure in others who may read this and wrongfully think my dear priest is in error somehow (he's not - he is exactly how God has ordered him to be), wants to be angry that things aren't going the way I imagined them, but the woman growing in maturity in me realized that truth I am avoiding:  I am responsible for myself.

I am not a lost lamb stuck in a thicket that needs to be sought and saved.  I will not grow in my faith as I ought to if others clear the path for me.  Oh, it would be so easy if my husband announced, "we're becoming Catholic!" and he called the priest and arranged everything.  Oh, it would be so easy if my mother never left the Church to begin with.  Oh, it would be so easy if my Catholic friends dragged me to the priest and to all the functions and ministries with contagious enthusiasm.  Oh, it would be so easy if my dear priest would pursue me and coddle me like a favored child.

While I would like to slump into a chair, arms crossed, pouting, and blame every one of these people, and while I pray to Christ that I would so easily and readily obey if He just cleared my path, I must acknowledge that He does not wish for that because I have other growing to do.

The biggest hurdle I must leap over to become fully Catholic is myself.  The only one in my way is myself.  The scariest person I must encounter is myself.  The most adored idol in the way of coming to Christ is myself.

I made up a Catholic story for myself and turned real people in to characters who served me at my bidding so I could become what I designed to be a good Catholic.

And that brings me to my 5th hurdle:

5.  Myself and being a good Catholic:

When I was Protestant, I would brag that "I would make a good Catholic."  Some Catholic friends would smile and tell me that indeed I would.  That just added hot air to my big head.  When I actually started pursuing Catholicism, I did so under the idea that I would knock it out of the park.  That is, until I started actually studying Catholicism and facing it full on within the realities of life and who I am.  In agony I recognize that I am not a good Catholic and probably never will be.  I'm the kind of person who if I cannot do something well, I don't bother doing it, or I abandon it quickly.  I considered abandoning Catholicism because of this realization.  And I put off contacting my priest and arranging my first confession because I do not want to face myself.

I've always been considered the good girl and thus when faced with a failure I would receive double the blow.  The talkative girl in class would get a basic reprimand a hundred times a day for talking.  But, if I, the good girl, talked out of turn just once, the teacher would look at me as if a saint had just broken its halo on purpose, and I would receive double the reprimand because I had stepped out of character.  The chastisement was always deeply felt and I was always deeply grieved and contrived various penances to alleviate my guilt and utter failures.

It is true that a naughty girl can be loved for being charming some of the time, but a charming, good girl can lose all trust and feelings of love with just one error.  Any time in my past when I tried to reveal, confess, or discuss my faults, I was hushed and dismissed, or made fun of, or looked at with bitter disappointment, or I felt unsafe.  Sometimes, in the evangelical church, we were encouraged to confess publicly.  But, I knew the faults of others.  I knew the gossip.  I knew I would be looked at differently, and that their knowing wouldn't bring forgiveness and redemption.  This is a lot to unpack, and I know that what I really must do is jump into the deep end and just go for it.  But, I am desperately ashamed of myself, and if evangelicalism teaches anything well, it is to stuff all that we are ashamed of in the box labeled "Christ died for my sins."

Flushing Jesus Down the Toilet

This was a new challenge for me:

If Catholics believe that Christ is truly in the Eucharist, and the Eucharist is treated with such reverence and care before consumption, then how can they eat Christ and turn him into digestive waste?

A quick Google search revealed that this isn't a new question, and, in fact, is often used by Baptists in more crude terms.

A bit of a tangent:  I homeschool. A running joke among homeschoolers that is based on fact is that homeschoolers are often quizzed by those who oppose homeschooling in order to try to catch them off guard and prove in some small, nasty way that they are not receiving an education, thus "proving" their anti-homeschooling ideas.  This is done by Protestants towards Catholics.  I find it strange that I have to somehow answer to or prove every tiny small belief in great detail with tremendous proof, references, and resources.  However, if I ask the same of a Protestant, they get defensive and give me the, "It's in the Bible."  or "I believe the Bible."  or "The Holy Spirit revealed it to me."

Back to the original question:

To fully answer the question, though, I would have to go into an entire exegesis and explanation of the Eucharist and the Catholic beliefs on the matter.  For the sake of time, let's just all assume that Christ truly is in the Eucharist.  Suspend your disbelief for a moment and just accept it to get through this answer.

So, there is Christ.  All we see is the host bread, but Catholics believe there is Christ. What we see, taste, and touch are the "accidents," that is the physicality of the host on earth.  Spiritually, it is Christ body, blood, soul, and divinity.  Therefore, when we eat His flesh, as He says over and over again in the Gospel of John, we, in fact, do eat.  The host goes into our digestive tract.  So, it follows that, like any other food we eat, it eventually ends up as waste.  That is simplistic and ignores the spirituality of the matter.

The accidents of the host are what we digest.  Just as food contains nutrients to feed our bodies, and just because we taste a delicious steak or carrot doesn't mean we aren't experiencing the nourishing protein and vitamin A, the Eucharist contains Christ to feed our spirits.

The Catholic idea based on the science of digestion is that it takes about 15 minutes for the host accidents to break down in digestion and begin to nourish our bodies.  At that time, any accidents cease and the separation process of nutrients and waste has begun.  Then, Christ is no longer "in the Eucharist" because there is no longer a Eucharist.

At this point, many Protestants still scoff, but this is what Catholics call a mystery.  Even Protestants have to admit that not everything is explained out clearly in Scripture.  After all, how EXACTLY did the Holy Spirit impregnate Mary?  We can only speculate as to how much was nature and how much was Spiritual.  How EXACTLY the Eucharist "works" post-consumption isn't known to us.  How EXACTLY we pass from earth to eternity upon death, and when death actually happens, are still mysteries to us.  So, to expect Catholics to not only scientifically, but Biblically prove what happens to the Eucharist after consumption in order to prove the dogma is hypocritical.

Let's think of it this way.  God became man through Christ Jesus.  He was fully God and fully man at the same time.  His body was a living Eucharist.  He had the accidents of human being, but He was, He IS God.  The fact that He bled and died doesn't prove that He was just merely a human.  That was His accidents, His earthly molecular structure.  His Godship was still fully there.  Whatever earthly destruction happens does not take away from the spiritual nature.

Even we human beings, upon death and rot in the ground, our spirits are not part of that.  Our bodies rot and nourish the ground.  Our spirits rise and contribute to the Heavens (or not, depending on the judgement of Christ per individual).  If we can accept this phenomenon, that it's ok to "dispose of the body" without disrupting the spiritual nature of the human, then why is it so hard to accept that we can consume Christ in accordance with the Gospel of John where Christ repeatedly emphasizes "this is my body" and the "eat of it" and not "turn Jesus into poop."

Why are the Catholic 10 Commandments Different?

If you place a Douay Bible alongside and KJV Bible, the passages for the 10 Commandments is practically identical.  So, when we memorize the 10 Commandments as children, why do Catholic children learn a different set of 10 than Protestant children?

First and foremost:  Neither Catholics nor Protestants actually recite the actual full Commandments.  Both utilize a tradition of summarization or outline rather than quoting either Exodus 10 or Deuteronomy 5.  So, to accuse one of "taking away from" the 10 Commandments, but not the other is hypocritical.

Secondly, this isn't exactly a Catholic vs Protestant split.  According to Encyclopedia Britannica and Bethany Lutheran College, Catholics and Lutherans share the same numbering and wording of the 10 Commandments.  The Orthodox and many other Protestant denominations have their wording and numbering.

The most common accusation towards the Catholic 10 Commandments is that they deliberately take out the "graven images" portion to allow for all the statues and iconography.  This doesn't make much sense for two reasons:

1.  Lutherans also don't include the "graven images" text.
2.  The Orthodox Church includes the "graven images" text, yet often have just as much, if not more iconography in their churches.

The explanation of the "missing text" in Catholic 10 Commandments, as given by former Southern Baptist turned Catholic Apologist, Tim Staples, is that the First Commandment extends to include all of the command against idolatry.  As such, the Catholic Church condenses it to cover the basics of establishing God as our #1 and not having other gods before Him (which includes idols of graven images).  If a Catholic were to read the entirety of the Commandment, it would include the graven images text, as this is indeed Biblical.

The other difference is shifting the numbering around to accommodate where a point is expanded, and where a point is condensed.  This brings us to coveting.

The Catholics separate Coveting thy neighbor's wife and coveting thy neighbor's property.  They do this because:

1.  Two different Hebrew words are used for coveting (apparently, not in Exodus, but does differ in Deuteronomy).
2.  Women are not property.  Even in the sense of any historical idea that "women are property," they are not "goods," and they do not "belong to the husband" in the same way an ox does.  Women "belong" to husbands in a different, deeper, and more profound way.  You'd be mad if you oxen were stolen, but you'd be more than mad if you wife was kidnapped and raped.

Further study has revealed that it seems the Catholic Church's 10 Commandments follows more the Jewish Talmud through Augustine, same as Lutherans.  Reformed Christians, of which many evangelical branches can trace back to, follow, like the Orthodox, the Septuagint. (Wikipedia)

I do not see how these differences prove or disprove the validity of any Christian denomination who utilizes one or the other.  Again, neither version is actually the FULL version.  They are both condensed for ease of memorization.  Ultimately, the Scriptures match, which is the most important.

Universal Truth Mindshift

I do believe in a universal truth and that the universal truth comes from a higher power.  More specifically, I believe in the Christian God of the Bible and that the truth comes from Him.

Growing up in the Assembly of God Church, I developed this idea that our job as Christians is to seek and pray for the revelation of this universal truth and then God would set us on that "straight and narrow" path and we'd know we were in His perfect will.  The problem was, no matter how much I prayed, no matter how much I sought, no matter how much I read, listened, and studied, I never felt that I found that perfect will path.  In fact, I became paralyzed, afraid to even move because I wasn't sure if anything I was doing was part of that perfect path.

I have since changed my mindset.  Instead of believing that if I did enough faithful Christian stuff He would reveal His perfect Universal Truth path for me to merrily walk upon the rest of my life, I now believe that it is a journey upon this earth and He slowly reveals the Universal Truth through our choices in life.  We don't get it all at once and then live life.  We live life and learn it along the way.

This helps me not to fear making choices, anymore.  I am not literally afraid in my laundry room wondering if turning on the warm water instead of washing in cold water is being a bad steward and not saving that half a penny, and stepping off of Christ's path.

I don't have to be afraid of changing churches, befriending someone who doesn't share my beliefs, making decisions.  I can more easily live within the reality of my life here on earth instead of trying to find answers and open doors to a VERY narrow and elusive perfect path that I thought I had to be on.

Discomfiture of Modern Evangelism

You can imagine that being Evangelical meant a very strong emphasis on evangelism.  It was about "winning souls" and "the sinner's prayer" and "going out the collect the harvest."

I always struggled with this.  I'm shy, introverted, and always seemed to either anger people, or encounter those who could out-argue me.  It began to dawn on me that that which I saw and believed so plainly, others could not.  I even began to see the absurdity in believing what I believed.  In the logic of human tangible facts, faith is an anomaly.

Furthermore, I saw evangelical ministries flounder and fail time and time again.  If it was charitable, it was merely used by a community that had no desire to take the bait and join the church.  More often than not, someone who did get swept up into the church would leave after their spiritual high and honeymoon were over.

Around here where I live, evangelical churches have a very very minimal actual growth rate of true converts.  Mostly, they just recycle the same Christians.  They get disillusioned or bored or angry with one church, one denomination, and so they move to another.  A new "church" with a great advertising campaign opens up and perhaps some straggling unchurched join the "revival" for a time, but eventually it peters out.

To press on with my original point, I always struggled with the evangelical model.  It seemed ineffective and even hated (I mean, really, who likes being bothered on a street or have someone knocking on your door asking you personal questions on the spot).  I remember being told to speak about Jesus to my classmates.  Be bold!  I tried.  It was a mess.  Most of them just thought I belonged to some cult.

However, it was doctrinally pounded into us that we must evangelize or else we were saddening and angering God (not in those words) and perhaps even risked entry to heaven (odd for those who believe in once saved always saved).  Up until yesterday evening I still felt the burden of guilt concerning my lack of bold evangelization.

Then, I read Elizabeth LeSeur's diary.  In it, around 1906, she realized something important, profound.  Silence.  She was advised and convicted that she talked too much about her spiritual life.  She evangelized too much.  It was, simply by being a talking point, a matter of egotism.  She saw that it put the focus much on her, was a distraction from true conversion, and was largely ineffective.

Her remedy was silence on the matter.  Should would return to prayers, suffering, and service - only speaking of her spirituality when charity demanded it.  In that Christ could work, the Holy Spirit could move and true heart changes could become rather than people being swept away in contempt, or carried off by emotions only to crash when the emotions and aesthetics lost their charms and wore off.

We are light and salt.  Light doesn't make noise.  Neither does salt.  Our neighbors don't need us knocking on their doors and asking personal questions.  They need us being shining examples of piety and flavoring and preserving good.  That might mean leaving the Bible at home and instead picking up a rake.  That might mean knocking on the door with a tray of cookies or needful groceries, instead of leaving Chick Tracts.  (Oh, how I hate Chick Tracts!)

It doesn't mean hiding behind a veneer of perfection.  It means not drawing attention to our imperfection.  The Bible says that when we fast we ought to suffer in silence, and not make a show of our suffering.  That doesn't mean to lie and be unrealistic.  It means giving of ourselves in joy for God's glory and not succumbing to egotism of self.  We can take care of ourselves without making it a thing.

In conclusion, I write that reading Elizabeth LeSeur's journal helped lift off the guilt I had concerning evangelism.  I never ever "won a soul" by evangelizing.  However, I did have one person come to me years later and thank me for my example and my living and that seeing that one could be a Christian with joy and life helped him become a Christian (and not only that, become a Catholic!).  I was shocked, to say the least, as the time of my example that he was referring to was a time I struggled, and yet it was a witness.  Praise be to God!

Another Vision

Deep in prayer and reading the Bible this evening, I closed my eyes and asked to bask in the presence of Christ.  Immediately, my mind's eye saw the interior of a beautiful cathedral, as if I stood in the center aisle.  I was whisked forward towards the tabernacle and there, for a brief moment, I saw the face of Christ.  It was not like one sees a person before them, or even a picture, painting, or statue.  It was more outlined, like the Shroud of Turin image, though alive, substantial, and not mere image.

It struck me how Catholic it was.  The interior of the cathedral was very ornate and full of sacred art and carvings.  The rows of wooden pews were a medium toned wood to match the decorative and structural woodwork throughout the cathedral.  Beautiful!  The rush forward and full attention towards the tabernacle was very clear.  I knew where I was and where I was going and why.  And there, right at the tabernacle, was that living, substantial image of Christ.  Majestic.

The awe of it shook me.  It was an unexpected vision.

I hope to really be inside that cathedral some day.  I don't know where it is.  I don't know which one it is.

Fish on Friday

The routines of the Catholic Church are still foreign and out of practice for me.  For example, I forget that it is Friday and find myself grabbing something with meat in it to eat.  I've mostly got it down to where I meal plan a fish dinner of some sort for Friday evenings, but the rest of the day I am prone to forgetting the call to abstain.

Yesterday was a prime example, but I am grateful for it because it caused me to examine myself.  It started out with needing to use up bacon in the fridge before it started turning.  I cooked it up for my children (who are not Catholic at all, pray for them) and then remembered it was Friday.  I was tempted to just give up and eat it anyway, but I decided to stick with the Church and did not have bacon for myself.  It was hard!  I had to remind myself that I can have bacon tomorrow.  I can wait one day and give this up for the Lord in obedience to His Church. 

For lunch, my son made a meatball sandwich with leftover meatballs from Thursday's dinner.  He left the pan on the stove with half a meatball sitting in it.  Without thinking, I picked up the meatball and popped it into my mouth.   It was an hour or so later before I even realized what I did!

"I'm not good at this!" I exclaimed to God.  "I'll have to give up something else to make up for it."

I was going to prepare my afternoon indulgent cup of coffee and decided that would be my sacrifice for eating the meatball.  But, then I resisted.  No, maybe there's something else.  My conscience was pricked.  No, I wanted coffee the most.  It was the first to come to mind, the one I don't want to give up, so it must be the one I must give up.

My Protestant friends and family would read this and say that I am being superstitious and legalistic.  That isn't it at all!  If I am going to be Catholic, I am going to be Catholic and accept such things and utilize them to appropriate practice and purpose.  Yes, I do believe that some Catholic practices can fall into superstition and legalism, but if we are educated and mindful and keep our eyes on Jesus, they won't.  They will be done appropriately.

Does Jesus ultimately care whether or not I popped that half a meatball in my mouth?  I don't believe so.  In fact, I laughed when I realized and felt that perhaps He laughed, too.  But, it caused me to examine myself.  It gives me a Christ-focus.  It joins me with other Catholics who also abstain in honor of God.  It reminds me of my humanity, my morality.