reconciling things

“Allow it all to happen: beauty and terror…” Rilke

In a nutshell…

October 26, 2017


Last night I got to share my conversion story with the women’s group at my parish. It was the first time I have given my testimony in a public way. It was a blessing to be able to share my excitement and the honor I feel in being Catholic.

(I apologize for how fast I talk and for hand movements that when seen without the audio look something like interpretive dance.)

I got there early, one of the first, because my son was serving at the altar and my daughter was singing with the cantor.

I sat in the back and prayed. Breathing deeply I took in the stained glass windows, the wood work, the altar piece. And I watched people come in. Old people who wore their grief like a garment. High schoolers fidgeting uncomfortably in dress clothes they scarcely ever wear. Friends embraced each other in the knowing without the telling. Then we sat in near silence. Just me and hundreds of other people. Sitting in the grief. Continue reading

I readily admit that mercy makes me uncomfortable. By its very nature it’s unfair, so it rubs me the wrong way, except when I need it. Mercy doesn’t feel as much like a warm blanket as it does a thorn in the side.

The thing about Christianity is that it turns our notions about the world and about ourselves upside down. It says that beggars have a place at the table. That the unworthy get an equal share. Sinners are welcomed. And not just welcomed; being a sinner is your ticket in.

Now, I might not care much for your particular breed of sin. Your proclivities may make be squirm. Or rage. On the Daja Sin-Scale the evil that abides in your heart is 100x worse than the evil that abides in mine. But looking at the cross, I must confess that Jesus doesn’t use my sin-scale. That radical confrontation with Jesus puts to death the notions of my own goodness. Continue reading

About a year ago I was talking on the phone to an old friend from Mongolia.  In the course of conversation she asked if we were still going to the same church we had been attending the last time she came for a visit. I said, “No, actually, we have been going to St. Therese Catholic Church.”  She literally gasped. “WHY?????” she asked with every ounce of incredulity.

Recently another old friend came to visit. And mentioned that since we had last visited I had become Catholic. He said that there would be time for me to explain myself during the visit.

I know this is just the beginning. People are genuinely interested and honestly curious as to why I would choose this.  So, I thought I’d sort of break down my top reasons for joining the Church and dispel any misconceptions as well. Continue reading

I didn’t grow up with the Sacraments. Yes, I was baptized and received Communion (as often as it was offered, which was about once a month. The focal point of a Protestant worship service is not the Eucharist.) but I don’t recall them ever being called Sacraments. They were symbols.  I was also married in the church.  But, again, not sure it was ever called a Sacrament. A covenant, yes. But, not a Sacrament.

I grew up with the following theology: What Jesus did was enough. If you have to add anything to that, you’re saying that what Jesus did was not enough. You cannot add the requirement of church attendance, baptism, confession, anything, otherwise you invalidate the provision of Christ. Continue reading

A little more than a year ago I was sitting around with two (then) Protestant girl friends, drinking tea, discussing theology–namely Catholicism. Yes, I have better than average friends. We may not know who won an Oscar or who wore what on the red carpet, but we can discuss transubstantiation, theology of the body, and church history until the cows come home.

We all agreed that the Catholic Church had at least one thing absolutely right. That is, the Eucharist. The Real Presence was as true as Jesus Himself in the flesh–well because that’s what it is.  We each expressed a sort of longing to be united with the Universal Church in the Eucharist. Could we make the leap? Could we cross the Tiber?  Continue reading