Ah, the most dreaded question any young woman around my age and into her twenties will hear. Normally you get it from grandma and grandpa, who were betrothed to each other at the age of six and can't seem to understand why a girl as pretty as you cannot get her hands on a man. It's nerve wracking, and nobody wants to hear it, mostly because it ends up turning into a discussion of how to improve your "flaws" so that you can become a juicy, man-attracting steak. Needless to say, this doesn't help the self-esteem any, and it's also not how a young woman wants to view herself. For all the garbage it gave us, the feminist movement has allowed women to be a little more assertive about being who they are.
I (thankfully) have not been asked the dreaded question yet. My parents know there aren't any boys in my life, and whether or not they have passed this information along to the rest of the family, they haven't asked either. This is wonderful for me, because I don't feel any pressure from my family to "complete" myself or my life with the presence of a boyfriend. We all know I'm a smart cookie, and that I would be fine either way, so it's not imperative that I go and get me a husband right now (all discernment issues aside).
Even more thankfully, none of my friends has asked why I don't have a boyfriend. I mean, they're right there all the time, so if I was either doing something wrong or just plain not finding anyone, they'd already know. However, they have recently become aware of the struggles I had on retreat this past weekend, so they're possibly joining me in the realization that now might not be the best time in the world for me to be involved with a guy.
But, good and faithful readers, let me answer the question for you. It's longer and more complex than most people imagine, as I suppose it must be for many young women. I also hope it will shed some light on what we as women should be on the look out for, should a stalwart, upright young man ever happen upon us in our ivory towers of life in the real world as a young woman. You didn't really think I was going to go all Disney princess on you there, did you?
I don't have a boyfriend partly because of internal struggles, and partly because of my faith. The internal struggles just started this weekend, when in a retreat activity I had confront a huge insecurity I have about love. I have a hard time accepting love because I don't believe that others can love me unconditionally, and because I don't believe it about people, I don't really believe it about God, either. Intellectually I know God loves every one of His children unconditionally, but I cannot allow myself to feel it because I'm afraid that God's love for me will prove to be conditional, as has been my experience in the past. I know that I need to learn to accept and believe in God's unconditional love for me before I can truly learn to love myself or even think about letting someone in to love me romantically. I'm working this through with the help of my spiritual director (and the Big G Himself), and I know that this is something in which I need to grow closer to God, and I am willing to forsake the possibility of romance for now to do it.
The other reason I don't have a boyfriend is because my Catholic faith empowers me to ask a lot more of a man than a lot of women do. I want to be able to expect a lot from any man I date, and that has necessarily narrowed the field in college. I want the respect due me as a daughter of God, and I want to give a man the respect due him as God's son. I want him to be worthy of my estimation for encouraging me in my faith, and I want to be able to encourage him to seek God in the same way I am. I want to know that he and I are united in love with each other and with Christ, and I don't want any man who will try or even propose to lead me away from God or my faith. I don't want a guy who is more interested in self-gratification than in helping me guard both of our purity, or who is apathetic about the things that matter to me. I don't want a man who will encourage me to treat my faith as a quaint relic of the past which is only good for the occasional trip to the soup kitchen, or who believes that himself. Also, I just don't do well with people who aren't intellectual and don't have plans for themselves beyond getting totally trashed this weekend.
I don't have a boyfriend right now because I choose not to, and though most of my friends aren't necessarily single by choice, we're all looking for the same thing. We want to be solid with ourselves and with Christ before we look for a guy, and if we have issues (and lots of young women do), we want to work them out before giving our all in a romantic relationship. It's tough to do, especially if you feel desperate to be loved, but the rewards both spiritually and temporally are so much greater than the short term buzz of a college fling, and you wind up on much better footing with yourself and God. I hope to be able to encourage all my sisters to look after yourselves first, and try to grow in faith and love of God, and He will bring you the perfect guy, the one He destined you for out of His great love for you.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Thy Will Be Done
Well, I'm back from retreat now, and as I hoped, it has definitely given me some fruit for new blog posts, but not exactly in the way I hoped. I was kind of hoping for happiness and peace and confirmation this weekend, and I got none of that. I could barely even sense God at all. I feel horrible about that because everyone else seemed to have such a wonderful time, gain insights into their faith, grow in love, and there I was, doing more or less squat. And I won't lie, it's actually been kind of painful, and I really wish that I didn't have to deal with what came up this weekend, but God has His own reasons for asking me to do it now, I'm sure.
Going into this retreat, I knew I'd been struggling, and I felt worn out physically and spiritually. I was so glad to be able to leave D.C. for a couple of days, try to unwind, and reorient myself with God. A bunch of friends were going on retreat as well, and so were a couple of new girls we were excited to meet. We got to the house, dropped our stuff, had Mass, and right away something wasn't right. I chalked it up to tiredness and went to bed expecting the healing and fun to start the next morning. The next morning was lovely (and a little chilly!), and we got started pretty quickly with all of the usual retreat fare: breakfast, Mass, talks, etc.
Everything was going alright until Confession, when I made my way down into the basement and was asked if I had noticed all of what I was saying since starting the retreat. I hadn't, and our chaplain chided me that I was looking to take care of people and things outside myself, and not checking in to what was going on for me. I knew it was true, and during the second talk of the day, I made more of an effort to be mentally present. It was during this talk, the talk about how loved and beautiful we were, that some very painful things I had buried were brought to the surface. I was unable to even look at myself in the hand mirror we'd all been given, and I desperately wished I could just re-bury everything I had just been forced to acknowledge.
During Adoration, I couldn't feel Jesus' presence, in spite of the fact that He couldn't have been more than five feet away from me at any point. I was distracted and barely able to pray even a simple prayer, and when Benediction came around I started to cry openly, and I felt lost, alone, and hurt. That night was calmer, and I went to bed earlier, hoping I could just forget what had happened to me. No such luck, though, and so I'm (thankfully) going in for spiritual direction tomorrow (Praise. God.). The only silver lining I've been able to see on this weekend is that I've managed (vaguely) to isolate a couple of the issues I think I might be having.
I can't broach the topic of most of them here and now, but the foremost issue is that I think God might be asking me to take off a mask. Now, lots of young women wear masks, it's how we get through a great deal of what we get through, but this mask is an elemental part of me, or so it seems. It's one of the masks that gets created early on in life, and when you're younger it's easier to take off though usually you don't. Once you get older, the mask gets woven into who you are, and taking it off becomes a painful and sometimes impossible task. I'm sure I haven't gotten to the impossible stage yet, but I know that it is already painful to have been asked to take the mask off, and that it will only become more so as time goes on.
This retreat is strangely reminiscent of the FOCUS Conference in January, and with that in mind, I mad the same prayer last night that I made when we came back then. I asked God just for the strength to accept His will, and to do it. I would like to know why this is happening, and why now, but I am content not to know that for now, and only to be able to do God's will. Knowledge of everything isn't necessary, I just want to survive first, then figure out the particulars. I don't know how I'm going to do this, I don't know why it's happening, all I know is that it hurts and I want to follow God to the solution. Please pray for me in this struggle, I'd really appreciate it!
Going into this retreat, I knew I'd been struggling, and I felt worn out physically and spiritually. I was so glad to be able to leave D.C. for a couple of days, try to unwind, and reorient myself with God. A bunch of friends were going on retreat as well, and so were a couple of new girls we were excited to meet. We got to the house, dropped our stuff, had Mass, and right away something wasn't right. I chalked it up to tiredness and went to bed expecting the healing and fun to start the next morning. The next morning was lovely (and a little chilly!), and we got started pretty quickly with all of the usual retreat fare: breakfast, Mass, talks, etc.
Everything was going alright until Confession, when I made my way down into the basement and was asked if I had noticed all of what I was saying since starting the retreat. I hadn't, and our chaplain chided me that I was looking to take care of people and things outside myself, and not checking in to what was going on for me. I knew it was true, and during the second talk of the day, I made more of an effort to be mentally present. It was during this talk, the talk about how loved and beautiful we were, that some very painful things I had buried were brought to the surface. I was unable to even look at myself in the hand mirror we'd all been given, and I desperately wished I could just re-bury everything I had just been forced to acknowledge.
During Adoration, I couldn't feel Jesus' presence, in spite of the fact that He couldn't have been more than five feet away from me at any point. I was distracted and barely able to pray even a simple prayer, and when Benediction came around I started to cry openly, and I felt lost, alone, and hurt. That night was calmer, and I went to bed earlier, hoping I could just forget what had happened to me. No such luck, though, and so I'm (thankfully) going in for spiritual direction tomorrow (Praise. God.). The only silver lining I've been able to see on this weekend is that I've managed (vaguely) to isolate a couple of the issues I think I might be having.
I can't broach the topic of most of them here and now, but the foremost issue is that I think God might be asking me to take off a mask. Now, lots of young women wear masks, it's how we get through a great deal of what we get through, but this mask is an elemental part of me, or so it seems. It's one of the masks that gets created early on in life, and when you're younger it's easier to take off though usually you don't. Once you get older, the mask gets woven into who you are, and taking it off becomes a painful and sometimes impossible task. I'm sure I haven't gotten to the impossible stage yet, but I know that it is already painful to have been asked to take the mask off, and that it will only become more so as time goes on.
This retreat is strangely reminiscent of the FOCUS Conference in January, and with that in mind, I mad the same prayer last night that I made when we came back then. I asked God just for the strength to accept His will, and to do it. I would like to know why this is happening, and why now, but I am content not to know that for now, and only to be able to do God's will. Knowledge of everything isn't necessary, I just want to survive first, then figure out the particulars. I don't know how I'm going to do this, I don't know why it's happening, all I know is that it hurts and I want to follow God to the solution. Please pray for me in this struggle, I'd really appreciate it!
Friday, October 21, 2011
Those Who Never Stop Trying
I've been having some writer's block this week, and I've been desperately trying to come up with anything to post about, and it's not working. At all. This week has produced nothing in my head except a lot of fluff and cobwebs. I'm going on retreat this weekend, so hopefully that will clear everything out and give me fodder for new posts, but until then, I want to talk a little about an idea I've had for a small reflection series. Maybe this idea is God's way of telling me to stop talking about myself for once, and to look to other people for their valuable contributions.
A couple of weeks ago, I came up with the idea of telling the stories of some of my close friends here at school, mostly because I've already regaled too many people with my own story, especially here. It was also partly because I've been hearing more and more of their stories, and they're so beautiful and unique that I want to be able to share them with others (with their permission, of course). The idea was brought up, and three of them consented, though I hope to add a couple more friends to the list before I start writing the series. I want to be able to tell their stores, and then to talk about them a tiny bit from the point of view of a friend, because some of them have amazingly inspirational stories.
I suppose I want this to be an exercise in appreciation, now that I think about it. I want whoever reads these posts about my friends to see how many very ordinary, inspiring people of faith there are all around us. I often seem to take my friends' faith for granted because I live in a bit of a bubble, but I want to be able to expose how even normal people with regular lives and struggles can be good motivators and models for the rest of us. After all, the Church isn't a museum of saints, it's a hospital for sinners, and each one has a story which is worth telling. Each person I'd like to write about has his or her own worthwhile example to give, and I want it to be able to shine for everyone.
Hey, if the lives of the saints can be instructive, how much more the lives of sinners? You know what they say about saints? They're just sinners who never stopped trying.
A couple of weeks ago, I came up with the idea of telling the stories of some of my close friends here at school, mostly because I've already regaled too many people with my own story, especially here. It was also partly because I've been hearing more and more of their stories, and they're so beautiful and unique that I want to be able to share them with others (with their permission, of course). The idea was brought up, and three of them consented, though I hope to add a couple more friends to the list before I start writing the series. I want to be able to tell their stores, and then to talk about them a tiny bit from the point of view of a friend, because some of them have amazingly inspirational stories.
I suppose I want this to be an exercise in appreciation, now that I think about it. I want whoever reads these posts about my friends to see how many very ordinary, inspiring people of faith there are all around us. I often seem to take my friends' faith for granted because I live in a bit of a bubble, but I want to be able to expose how even normal people with regular lives and struggles can be good motivators and models for the rest of us. After all, the Church isn't a museum of saints, it's a hospital for sinners, and each one has a story which is worth telling. Each person I'd like to write about has his or her own worthwhile example to give, and I want it to be able to shine for everyone.
Hey, if the lives of the saints can be instructive, how much more the lives of sinners? You know what they say about saints? They're just sinners who never stopped trying.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Love Your Enemies
This weekend at my university is Parent's Weekend, and if you've read some of my prior blog posts, you probably surmised that it wasn't going to be the most exciting weekend of my year. Update: so far, it's not. However, I must say that it got of to a rather fortuitous start last night, mostly because of some quick thinking on the part of a couple of friends, and the grace of God. My parents and I attended a performance of some of the highlights of Rodgers and Hammerstein's compositions at the Kennedy Center. As singers, we've all had to sing some of that vast body of music, and like so many others, we genuinely like it a lot. As the conductor of the National Symphony Orchestra remarked, Richard Rodgers had a rare gift of melody, and Oscar Hammerstein II could seamlessly weave lyrics that were witty and touching. Together they revolutionized musical theater in America, and they are one of the best known musical duos in our history.
One of the peculiar talents of Rodgers and Hammerstein was the ability to write songs that were cheery or amusing in shows that dealt with serious topics, such as racism, sexism, abuse, the Nazis, and so on. "Soliloquy" is a song about how the man singing it, Bill Bigelow, is going to train up his son to be a real man, before he panics and realizes that since "he" isn't even born yet, he could very easily be "she", and would need a whole new life plan. The show it's from, Carousel, deals with sexism and abuse among other things. "Whistle a Happy Tune" is a description of how the character singing it, Anna Leon-Owens, simply whistles a happy tune whenever she's afraid to fool people into thinking she isn't, and the result of this deception is that she's fooled out of her fear. The show it's from, The King and I, deals with interracial love and the clash of cultures, as well as the clash of tradition with modernity.
As I mentioned, my parents and I enjoyed the performance immensely. We only went because on this Parents' Weekend, the keynote performance is being given by Bill Maher, and political commentator and sometimes comedian whom I dislike. My mother had texted me a week or two ago to say that she hadn't been able to get tickets for his show, and that was a-OK with me, but then she called again on Monday to let me know that she had gotten them, so we could still go. I panicked, mostly because Bill Maher and his show had become a bone of contention over the summer, and I had no desire to sit through his performance hearing him bash religious folk (as he often does) as my parents laughed. My friends immediately suggested I look at what performances were happening on the Millennium Stage at the Kennedy Center, because there is a performance every night, and it just so happened that Messrs Rodgers and Hammerstein were on the bill for last night and tonight.
You may wonder why it is that I went to such pains to try to avoid seeing Bill Maher perform, and it boils down to his hatred of religion and religious people. He's one of the "new atheists", who is not content to say that he doesn't believe that God exists, but actually attacks religious people frequently. Among his many comments are that people of faith have "neurological disorders", Pope Benedict is a Nazi, and the Qur'an is a "hate-filled" book. A group at the school has raised its concerns with having Mr. Maher represent our campus at a family event, and word is going around that not even one show could be sold out this year, where in the past few years extra shows have had to be added, and often both performances were sold out. The student body is showing its displeasure with the university's choice this year, and I'm pleased for that. We're all for free speech, but that doesn't mean we have to listen if we don't like it.
However, last night's performance at the Kennedy Center forced me to see things in a new light. I sat there enjoying myself thoroughly, singing along with "Do Re Mi", and swaying to the Waltz from Cinderella, and afterwards I realized that Bill Maher probably couldn't do that. I'm not talking about his musical abilities, but about his ability to simply sit back and enjoy something for its own sake. I could enjoy the music last night simply because it was good music, Bill Maher puts on the appearance of only enjoying things for a reason. His pot? Sticking it to an uptight government. His reputation as a libertine? It gives all those uptight, sex-hating conservative folks the willies. Saying the inflammatory things he says? It pisses people off. Honestly, I wonder if he knows what happiness feels like.
I've come to realize that the only thing I should be feeling for Bill Maher as a person of faith is pity. Why should I be angry at him? He's not convincing anyone who isn't already convinced. Why should I hate him? He's another child of God in this very broken world. I feel sorry for Bill Maher because he has millions of dollars, widespread popularity, a TV show, a degree from an Ivy League university, and a hedonistic lifestyle that I'm sure many people envy, but he's not happy (or he does a really good job of hiding it).
In the Gospels, Jesus says, "But to you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." (Lk 6:27-28) What does it matter to us or to God if we love people who love us, or do good to those who will return the favor? Everyone does that, because it's easy. But perhaps in refusing to love our enemies, we overlook those who actually need our love the most. I say we let Bill Maher and the "new atheists" rant and rave about how Christians hate love and love killing, and how alarming it is that Mohammed is a popular name in the UK, etc, and instead of retaliating, we just pray that he may know peace and happiness. After all, Jesus also said, "Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours." (Mk 11:24)
One of the peculiar talents of Rodgers and Hammerstein was the ability to write songs that were cheery or amusing in shows that dealt with serious topics, such as racism, sexism, abuse, the Nazis, and so on. "Soliloquy" is a song about how the man singing it, Bill Bigelow, is going to train up his son to be a real man, before he panics and realizes that since "he" isn't even born yet, he could very easily be "she", and would need a whole new life plan. The show it's from, Carousel, deals with sexism and abuse among other things. "Whistle a Happy Tune" is a description of how the character singing it, Anna Leon-Owens, simply whistles a happy tune whenever she's afraid to fool people into thinking she isn't, and the result of this deception is that she's fooled out of her fear. The show it's from, The King and I, deals with interracial love and the clash of cultures, as well as the clash of tradition with modernity.
As I mentioned, my parents and I enjoyed the performance immensely. We only went because on this Parents' Weekend, the keynote performance is being given by Bill Maher, and political commentator and sometimes comedian whom I dislike. My mother had texted me a week or two ago to say that she hadn't been able to get tickets for his show, and that was a-OK with me, but then she called again on Monday to let me know that she had gotten them, so we could still go. I panicked, mostly because Bill Maher and his show had become a bone of contention over the summer, and I had no desire to sit through his performance hearing him bash religious folk (as he often does) as my parents laughed. My friends immediately suggested I look at what performances were happening on the Millennium Stage at the Kennedy Center, because there is a performance every night, and it just so happened that Messrs Rodgers and Hammerstein were on the bill for last night and tonight.
You may wonder why it is that I went to such pains to try to avoid seeing Bill Maher perform, and it boils down to his hatred of religion and religious people. He's one of the "new atheists", who is not content to say that he doesn't believe that God exists, but actually attacks religious people frequently. Among his many comments are that people of faith have "neurological disorders", Pope Benedict is a Nazi, and the Qur'an is a "hate-filled" book. A group at the school has raised its concerns with having Mr. Maher represent our campus at a family event, and word is going around that not even one show could be sold out this year, where in the past few years extra shows have had to be added, and often both performances were sold out. The student body is showing its displeasure with the university's choice this year, and I'm pleased for that. We're all for free speech, but that doesn't mean we have to listen if we don't like it.
However, last night's performance at the Kennedy Center forced me to see things in a new light. I sat there enjoying myself thoroughly, singing along with "Do Re Mi", and swaying to the Waltz from Cinderella, and afterwards I realized that Bill Maher probably couldn't do that. I'm not talking about his musical abilities, but about his ability to simply sit back and enjoy something for its own sake. I could enjoy the music last night simply because it was good music, Bill Maher puts on the appearance of only enjoying things for a reason. His pot? Sticking it to an uptight government. His reputation as a libertine? It gives all those uptight, sex-hating conservative folks the willies. Saying the inflammatory things he says? It pisses people off. Honestly, I wonder if he knows what happiness feels like.
I've come to realize that the only thing I should be feeling for Bill Maher as a person of faith is pity. Why should I be angry at him? He's not convincing anyone who isn't already convinced. Why should I hate him? He's another child of God in this very broken world. I feel sorry for Bill Maher because he has millions of dollars, widespread popularity, a TV show, a degree from an Ivy League university, and a hedonistic lifestyle that I'm sure many people envy, but he's not happy (or he does a really good job of hiding it).
In the Gospels, Jesus says, "But to you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." (Lk 6:27-28) What does it matter to us or to God if we love people who love us, or do good to those who will return the favor? Everyone does that, because it's easy. But perhaps in refusing to love our enemies, we overlook those who actually need our love the most. I say we let Bill Maher and the "new atheists" rant and rave about how Christians hate love and love killing, and how alarming it is that Mohammed is a popular name in the UK, etc, and instead of retaliating, we just pray that he may know peace and happiness. After all, Jesus also said, "Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours." (Mk 11:24)
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Holla If You Love Priests!
From today's title, I think you can guess that I really like priests. Seriously, though, I don't think I've met more than one priest I didn't like in my entire life. My reversion to the faith has certainly helped this a great deal, though I have to say that my idea of priests being ordinary men as well as being holier than the rest of us comes from my uncle, an Antiochan Orthodox (arch) priest.
(Uncle Joe, complete with funny hat, big, blingy archpriest cross, full cassock, and sweet beard)
Growing up Catholic, my parents were always involved in liturgical music, so one or both of them was used to being close to our parish priest. He came to our house for dinner sometimes, and I fell asleep on his couch in the rectory more than a few times as a small child. My parents were friends with a priest who was also an artist, and along with making us a lovely stained glass window for the dining room, he was over to Sunday dinner every six weeks or so, and always at holidays with his mother. Priests were never foreign to me as a child, though it wouldn't be until college that I really loved and appreciated them.
Last year, I was like much of the freshmen who frequented our school's Newman Center, in that I knew priests growing up, so our chaplain, though he was younger and much more full of life than most of our parish priests, wasn't a huge oddity. Because of the nature of my reversion (and the fact that I practically lived in the Newman Center), we became much closer to each other than I would naturally have been to any priest back home. He is now my spiritual director, and I regard our relationship as sort of a fraternal-filial one- he's not afraid to goof around and trade insults with me and have fun, but he's also not afraid to set me straight and watch out for me if I go off the rails a bit.
I've also met a number of great priests here in Washington, among them, the rector of the Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle (who has me etched in his memory as "the ninja freak"), several fantastic Dominicans, one who attended Princeton, and others who are brilliant, joyful, holy men. I will not hesitate to say that it has been a joy and honor to know and learn from them, and I look forward to getting to meet more priests, as I have already through connection to our chaplain.
Before I forget, I also have a special place in my heart for seminarians. I haven't the foggiest idea if there are any men in seminary for my diocese back home, though occasionally someone will tell me there are. Seminarians are sort of the best of both worlds for me, because though they are laymen (those not ordained to the deaconate yet), they also exemplify the joy, holiness, and intelligence of the priests they hope to be one day. I currently have four friends in seminary, and we're not bosom buddies, but I thoroughly enjoy their wisdom, wit and silliness, as well as the hope they represent for our Church and our generation. I sort of love seminarians generally, and regard a couple as the older brothers I wish I had (though I'm sure if I actually had siblings, I wouldn't be so quick to say it).
Priests are some of my favorite people in the world. They are ordinary men who live out a supernatural call, but manage to do so in a variety of truly amazing ways. They are spiritual fathers, spiritual directors, and so many other things all rolled into one. I don't think it will ever cease to amaze me how much priests are really, after the tradition of St. Ignatius Loyola, men for others.
And just for fun, here's a funny video of (hopeful) future priests in formation:
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Heaven on Earth
Do you know what the most fantastic thing about Catholicism is? Aside from everything, I mean. The single most stupendous thing about the Catholic faith is the Mass. The Mass is literally one of the most amazing things about my little Catholic life right now. I mean, even the saints were all over it. Padre Pio once said, "It would be easier for the world to survive without the sun than to do so without the Holy Mass." How awesome is that?? He's right, of course, because not only is the Mass the source and summit of our faith, it's also the greatest prayer we can ever offer.
One of the great things about the Mass is that it's the primary vehicle by which we learn Scripture. Protestants have an enormous focus in their faith on straight up reading the Bible, which is great, though it's part of why Catholics have a reputation for not knowing anything about the Bible, or for Catholicism being "unscriptural". The Mass is almost entirely scriptural, though. The parts of the Mass, you know, those parts that you occasionally sing with the cantor in between all the prayers during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, they're all taken right out of Revelation. What you say before receiving Communion ("Lord, I am not worthy to receive You..."), that's straight from the Gospel of Luke. The prayers of Consecration are also from the Gospels, as are the Church's teachings on the Eucharist, around which the whole Mass is centered. There's also that whole "readings" thing, and the Psalms, too.
What a lot of Catholics don't know about the way we do Scripture, specifically at Mass, is that the Lectionary (the book with all the readings in it) is organized specifically so that the readings all match up with each other. Usually the strongest connection is between the First Reading and the Gospel, because the Old Testament, from which the First Reading is drawn, foreshadows the life of Christ, and informs our reading and interpretation of the Gospels and Christ's teachings. Another advantage of the Catholic Scripture Approach is that we have the Magisterium and Tradition of the Church guiding our interpretation of the passages, and our priests are trained in both of those things so they know how to explain what the Holy Spirit has revealed to us in Scripture. Their homilies are meant to be vehicles through which they break down what God is saying through the Bible passages we hear at each Mass, and it also protects us as believers from acting on a gross misinterpretation of the Bible, a la Westboro Baptist Church.
The best thing about the Mass by far, though, is the Eucharist. It's Jesus. It just doesn't get any better than that. No other religion on earth has that type of communion with God. They all have omnipresent gods, but none of them actually eat and drink their gods' flesh and blood. Their gods didn't offer them their own lives to save them from eternal punishment. They didn't give their priests the power to drive out demons, forgive sins, and turn ordinary bread and wine into the life-giving flesh and blood by which the world is saved. Jesus did that with Catholicism, and each Mass is a recreation of those powers and that sacrifice, the glory of which cannot be conveyed by words, no matter how hard I try.
In short, the Mass is heaven on earth, as Pope John Paul II said. No matter what is going on in my life, what sort of troubles I'm having, the Mass is always the greatest source of comfort for me. Christ brought heaven to earth through His incarnation, and with the Mass, He raises earth to heaven. Most of the time we go to Mass, we forget how glorious it really is. The founder of the Fellowship Of Catholic University Students said at their conference last year that what we do at Mass, especially receiving Jesus in Communion, is so sublime that we should be floating through the whole thing, but so often we're barely even paying attention. There is nothing remotely like the Mass on all the earth, and it basically is a foretaste of the Beatific Vision in heaven, and we should all be aware of that.
The Mass is the most beautiful, awesome, glorious, amazing thing we will experience this side of heaven. Am I getting this across well enough? I know this is a lot of rambling, but I don't know any other way to express how truly blessed we are to have been given the Mass. It's amazing that we get to experience heaven now, and then we (hopefully) get to experience it for eternity. Who really appreciates that fully? Absolutely glorious. Love it.
One of the great things about the Mass is that it's the primary vehicle by which we learn Scripture. Protestants have an enormous focus in their faith on straight up reading the Bible, which is great, though it's part of why Catholics have a reputation for not knowing anything about the Bible, or for Catholicism being "unscriptural". The Mass is almost entirely scriptural, though. The parts of the Mass, you know, those parts that you occasionally sing with the cantor in between all the prayers during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, they're all taken right out of Revelation. What you say before receiving Communion ("Lord, I am not worthy to receive You..."), that's straight from the Gospel of Luke. The prayers of Consecration are also from the Gospels, as are the Church's teachings on the Eucharist, around which the whole Mass is centered. There's also that whole "readings" thing, and the Psalms, too.
What a lot of Catholics don't know about the way we do Scripture, specifically at Mass, is that the Lectionary (the book with all the readings in it) is organized specifically so that the readings all match up with each other. Usually the strongest connection is between the First Reading and the Gospel, because the Old Testament, from which the First Reading is drawn, foreshadows the life of Christ, and informs our reading and interpretation of the Gospels and Christ's teachings. Another advantage of the Catholic Scripture Approach is that we have the Magisterium and Tradition of the Church guiding our interpretation of the passages, and our priests are trained in both of those things so they know how to explain what the Holy Spirit has revealed to us in Scripture. Their homilies are meant to be vehicles through which they break down what God is saying through the Bible passages we hear at each Mass, and it also protects us as believers from acting on a gross misinterpretation of the Bible, a la Westboro Baptist Church.
The best thing about the Mass by far, though, is the Eucharist. It's Jesus. It just doesn't get any better than that. No other religion on earth has that type of communion with God. They all have omnipresent gods, but none of them actually eat and drink their gods' flesh and blood. Their gods didn't offer them their own lives to save them from eternal punishment. They didn't give their priests the power to drive out demons, forgive sins, and turn ordinary bread and wine into the life-giving flesh and blood by which the world is saved. Jesus did that with Catholicism, and each Mass is a recreation of those powers and that sacrifice, the glory of which cannot be conveyed by words, no matter how hard I try.
In short, the Mass is heaven on earth, as Pope John Paul II said. No matter what is going on in my life, what sort of troubles I'm having, the Mass is always the greatest source of comfort for me. Christ brought heaven to earth through His incarnation, and with the Mass, He raises earth to heaven. Most of the time we go to Mass, we forget how glorious it really is. The founder of the Fellowship Of Catholic University Students said at their conference last year that what we do at Mass, especially receiving Jesus in Communion, is so sublime that we should be floating through the whole thing, but so often we're barely even paying attention. There is nothing remotely like the Mass on all the earth, and it basically is a foretaste of the Beatific Vision in heaven, and we should all be aware of that.
The Mass is the most beautiful, awesome, glorious, amazing thing we will experience this side of heaven. Am I getting this across well enough? I know this is a lot of rambling, but I don't know any other way to express how truly blessed we are to have been given the Mass. It's amazing that we get to experience heaven now, and then we (hopefully) get to experience it for eternity. Who really appreciates that fully? Absolutely glorious. Love it.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Patience is Not a Virtue
Not strictly speaking, anyway. It's not one of the Cardinal Virtues (Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance, Justice), nor is it one of the Theological Virtues (Faith, Hope, Love). Since I was little, I've always heard people say "Patience is a virtue," and I would jokingly reply that I must not be virtuous, because I was never very patient. It wasn't until last year when a seminarian friend told me that patience isn't actually a virtue, but a Fruit of the Holy Spirit. But you know what? Patience should be a virtue. I would consider the vast majority of virtuous people I know to be patient, and I would consider it exceedingly difficult for an impatient person to be virtuous, since so many virtues require a lot of time and effort to attain and perfect.
The reason I bring this up is because I have been feeling very impatient lately. Somewhat with other people, but mostly with God. It's probably a proud thing to say that I'm getting impatient with the One who is perfect in every way, especially since I will never hope to even approach perfection, but I am. This stems a lot from envy of my friends, and situations they find themselves in now. I've talked quite a bit about emotional chastity lately, and how awful I am at it (I promise this will be the last post about it for a while!), and seeing a couple of my friends in relationships (or whatever they would prefer to have them called) is difficult. I'm happy for them to be happy, please believe it, but I also wish that I could be happy in the same way.
This is where the impatience with God comes in. I want to be able to be in a relationship this year because I want to discern next year, and I don't want to start discernment without having experienced a Christian relationship. I already feel like time is slipping, and because I'm working on school and prayer (though that could stand some improvement, for sure), I'm somewhat arrogantly tapping my foot at God as if to say, "Alright Lord, I had three goals for this year, and I'm already working on two of them, so could you please just help me out with the third already?" It would probably frustrate my spiritual director to read this, since his revision of that goal was for me to reach out and become more social, rather than be overly concerned with dating, but the foolish desires of a young woman's heart are not always so easily shaken (I'm sorry, Father!).
I'm currently finishing up Jason and Crystalina Evert's How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul, and the hardest part of the book for me is the end. That's where they talk about being patient, running after Christ, and enjoying your season of singlehood, and as much as I agree with what they're saying in my head, my heart is less on board with the whole "enjoying singlehood" bit. One of the strengths of the book is that the Everts don't pull punches. They don't try to sugarcoat the hard stuff, so when it comes to enjoying singlehood, they really just say "Go out and become your own woman. Don't wait for some guy to come around and complete you, go out and do the things you always wanted to before you settle down and have other things to do." There are lots of things I want to do now, like picking German back up, going to the Holocaust Museum, cooking recipes from a cookbook with my friends, but I'm afraid I'm not patient enough to go about doing all the things I want to do, because I'm too fixed on getting my way with God.
Quite frankly, this all is embarrassing to admit, but it's a prime example of not guarding my heart, not just against silly feminine whims, but against pains and desires that are not of God. Right now in my life, God should be more than enough for me, but I'm not letting Him be. I'm trying to block out His plan for me, which doesn't include romance just yet, to try to get what I want. Lucifer did that too, once, and we can see how well that all worked out for him. I guess this issue is more about reconquering myself for God than anything. I have to trust in His timing, rely on His wisdom, and allow Him to be enough for me always, so that whether I ever experience romance or not, I'm never discontent with what I have, which, after all, is more than enough for forever.
The reason I bring this up is because I have been feeling very impatient lately. Somewhat with other people, but mostly with God. It's probably a proud thing to say that I'm getting impatient with the One who is perfect in every way, especially since I will never hope to even approach perfection, but I am. This stems a lot from envy of my friends, and situations they find themselves in now. I've talked quite a bit about emotional chastity lately, and how awful I am at it (I promise this will be the last post about it for a while!), and seeing a couple of my friends in relationships (or whatever they would prefer to have them called) is difficult. I'm happy for them to be happy, please believe it, but I also wish that I could be happy in the same way.
This is where the impatience with God comes in. I want to be able to be in a relationship this year because I want to discern next year, and I don't want to start discernment without having experienced a Christian relationship. I already feel like time is slipping, and because I'm working on school and prayer (though that could stand some improvement, for sure), I'm somewhat arrogantly tapping my foot at God as if to say, "Alright Lord, I had three goals for this year, and I'm already working on two of them, so could you please just help me out with the third already?" It would probably frustrate my spiritual director to read this, since his revision of that goal was for me to reach out and become more social, rather than be overly concerned with dating, but the foolish desires of a young woman's heart are not always so easily shaken (I'm sorry, Father!).
I'm currently finishing up Jason and Crystalina Evert's How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul, and the hardest part of the book for me is the end. That's where they talk about being patient, running after Christ, and enjoying your season of singlehood, and as much as I agree with what they're saying in my head, my heart is less on board with the whole "enjoying singlehood" bit. One of the strengths of the book is that the Everts don't pull punches. They don't try to sugarcoat the hard stuff, so when it comes to enjoying singlehood, they really just say "Go out and become your own woman. Don't wait for some guy to come around and complete you, go out and do the things you always wanted to before you settle down and have other things to do." There are lots of things I want to do now, like picking German back up, going to the Holocaust Museum, cooking recipes from a cookbook with my friends, but I'm afraid I'm not patient enough to go about doing all the things I want to do, because I'm too fixed on getting my way with God.
Quite frankly, this all is embarrassing to admit, but it's a prime example of not guarding my heart, not just against silly feminine whims, but against pains and desires that are not of God. Right now in my life, God should be more than enough for me, but I'm not letting Him be. I'm trying to block out His plan for me, which doesn't include romance just yet, to try to get what I want. Lucifer did that too, once, and we can see how well that all worked out for him. I guess this issue is more about reconquering myself for God than anything. I have to trust in His timing, rely on His wisdom, and allow Him to be enough for me always, so that whether I ever experience romance or not, I'm never discontent with what I have, which, after all, is more than enough for forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)