(without any theology)
Nope, not because of my previous post. I said Catholic, not a nun. And not because Jenny is, because even though my sis has been after me to convert for the past umpteen years -- well, nine -- I've never given it a serious thought until recently. These kinds of decisions you have to make on your own.
It's been a long, arduous struggle for me these past few years. Spiritually-religiously, I mean. Back in 2009, I kind of lost everything I'd grown up with and it took until late 2012 to even think about wanting to find it again.
But once I got started, it came in earnest. I finally understood what the Psalmist meant when he wrote as the deer thirsts for water, so my soul thirsts for you, O God. I was thirsty like I'd never been before. Like I never knew I could be. Like I never knew anyone could be, for real. But I was.
It was a search for Something Real. Neither the superficial God loves you nor the intense God hates you theologies resonated with me. I wanted the Real Deal. I wanted Experience and Assurance.
This is the time when I was devouring all kinds of religious texts, discussing matters of life/death/salvation with anyone who would listen, meeting with my pastor outside of church, reading encyclopedia articles of World Religions, and anything else I could do to soak up answers to all the questions I had. And of course, meditating and praying, even though for a while there my prayers started off something like, "God, I don't know Who You are or What You are, or even if You're there and listening to me . . ." But I still prayed, and got closer and closer to what I was searching for.
Funny, though, how even though I was becoming more Connected to Divine Love (to use Doug Hammack's terminology), I still felt like something was missing. I wanted a meal that would satisfy my insatiable spiritual hunger, but I was only being offered snacks (do you like this church-as-restaurant analogy? Yeah.). I was out of the Pit I had been in for years, but I was just standing there on the edge of it, unmoving. I wasn't going anywhere. I had faith, I had light. But I lacked something deeper. I lacked substance.
You know who has a monopoly on substantial Christian theology?
Catholics.
So, finally, this past December, I decided that I'd do it. To give Jenny the credit due her, she was the one who nudged me to take the first step of emailing the person I'd have to talk to in order to enroll in RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) classes at the Franciscan church near my house. Who knows how long I would have sat around complaining if she hadn't looked it up for me.
As soon as the priest opened my first class sitting in a chair in front of our group, closing his eyes and telling us to "breathe deeply and get in touch with your soul," before launching into an explanation of the changes of Vatican II, I knew I was in the right place. Here, the contemplative meets the common. Every class is full not of abstract, dull teaching, but practical, spirit-filled wisdom. I can't get enough.
So now I'm an official candidate for full communion in the Catholic church. Last Saturday was the official Rite of Presentation -- a beautiful experience where I received the sign of the Cross over all of me ("your eyes, that you would see goodness....your ears, that you would receive truth....your hands, that you would do good works...") and stated my intention in front of everyone. I'm planning on joining officially at Easter.
I don't think the Catholic church has all the answers. And I still have unanswered questions about Christianity in general. But I am satisfied that I am doing the right thing. It has been a long, hard journey to make this decision, but now that it's mine, I own it completely and feel very peaceful about it. I wonder where else it will take me . . .
[God said]: I will lead the blind on their journey;
by paths unknown I will guide them.
I will turn darkness into light before them,
and make crooked ways straight.
These things I do for them,
and I will not forsake them.
-Isaiah 42:16
