When I scroll through Facebook, it is difficult to not feel at least a little discouraged. My mini-world of online Catholic life, neatly curated based on my interests, is overflowing with article after article of questions, deception, and Church hierarchy. I haven’t joined the fray and posted yet another reflection on the duplicity found within some of the Church’s most elevated ordained men. It didn’t seem necessary after millions of words have been spilled over it and it doesn’t seem to help the hurting. Despite not posting about it, I feel the increasing weight of the problems and wonder what will happen next.
My faith isn’t shaken–it wasn’t rooted in bishops or the Holy Father to begin with. I don’t feel compelled to even consider leaving the Church–She is my home and I would not want to be an orphan in this crazy world. I do, however, ache for the hurting and I frequently consider how this must look from the perspective of my students. When hypocrisy is so blatant, it is a struggle for them to see why one should belong to such a fragile, sinful institution.
Despite the fact that I am unshaken in my desire to remain in the Church, the Lord gave me a generous gift. Yesterday, the Lord gave me what I didn’t know I needed.
I attended a Theology on Tap.
I know the coordinator pretty well (she is my sister, after all) and so I have known about the progress of the launch of this new program every step of the way. Yet when I walked into the gathering space, I was surprised at the number of people already present. And as the minutes continued to pass, I was soon blown away by the number of people who came streaming in. An event that initially had aimed for fifty people and then optimistically raised its hopes to seventy or eighty, eventually rounded out at about 150 people.
The attendees? They were young college kids, adults in the first decade of “adult” work, middle-aged parents, and grandpas and grandmas. A gentleman at my table graduated from high school in 1956. A priest stood behind me. A co-worker sat next to me. My parents were nearby. A couple sat on the floor near the bar, all available seats having long been snatched up.
The attendees? The Church. Continue reading “The Church Showed Up”
At different times I find myself missing college. While it was stressful and filled with numerous papers, I miss the unique setting that is found in living in the dorm and sharing my daily life with many others. The fact that a perpetual adoration chapel was only a short walk away was also a major benefit. Sometimes I was overwhelmed by the constant stream of people around campus, prohibiting any chance of being alone and filling my melancholic soul with stillness and silence. Despite that, I found it invigorating to be surrounded by young people my age who desired to zealously live out the faith. Of course they failed, but it was to my never-ending joy to be able to enter into deep theological discussions at the drop of the hat.
Once experiences the beauty of such an environment, everything else seems to not compare. Now I don’t live in a place that is teeming with young Catholics. I have a real job and I have to concern myself with money. The goal now, as opposed to the liberal spending of college, is to earn more than I spend. College was a steady stream of cash poured from my pockets and from the pockets of a couple banks.
Yet every now and then I am able to recognize the beauty of the present moment. I remember that I live with three young women that are on fire for the Lord. That we do engage in deep conversations, that we are sharing our lives together, and that we can challenge each other to delve deeper into our faith. Last night we had a women’s prayer group meeting at my house and I was filled again with a sense of gratitude. Women from different jobs, places, backgrounds, and lives came together to be rooted in prayer. At one point I was concerned that our conversation would be offensive to some of the new ladies but I was even more encouraged to find out they weren’t. We could talk about praying outside Planned Parenthood, contraception, ObamaCare, medical ethics, Catholic hospitals, and much more without any tension or conflict. We seemed to be in one accord.
I thanked the Lord that I didn’t live on my own but with women I can grow with. I am not alone in my faith or without Catholic friends, but rather the Lord is increasing and strengthening these friendships. My community may be small, but it is sufficient for me. The Lord provides. He knows what I need and He is supplying. Perhaps not in the abundance that I dream of or desire, but in the amount that is perfect, necessary, and manageable.