I’m a lot more comfortable gleefully perusing eBay for vintage mantillas with a cup of Earl Grey in hand than I am hashing out a bloody Traditionalist vs. Vatican II dual-to-the-death. My favorite part of Theology on Tap is the smell of pipe tobacco and the pub hamburgers. And I’m super rusty on my Latin, despite my apparently coveted classical great books educaton. But being the daughter of an (absolutely swoon-worthy) Protestant pastor, I need more ammunition in my Why I’m A Catholic cannon than “I get to sing Haydn in church and wear a lacy scarf thing”.
It’s not that I don’t know why – I have a list of reasons why that far outnumbers the reasons why I, say, would like to have a million dollars, finish school debt free, or not be steamrolled to death in front of the Geiko cavemen. And trust me, the reasons for all of the aforementioned possibilities are many indeed. I just turn into a defensive dimwit when the question is posed to me, like I’m facing a rabid Fundamentalist Inquisitor or something.
Enter a lovely theologian in my home parish that spoke to the RCIA candidates this week, Ken L. He gave an amazing outline of the Catholic vision for life that beautifully illustrated what I’ve been struggling to put into words. I have the theological reasons, but I haven’t been able to translate that into the earthy, day-to-day reasons that my family and church of origin will really grasp. The headings are his, the elaborations and commentary are mine. So, congratulations, readers! Yes, all two of you! You get to be my guinea pigs. I promise to treat you with infinite more respect than Uncle Andrew Ketterly treated his poor subjects – although really, I don’t think anyone would complain about being launched into Narnia. I’m just trying to practice verbalizing non-theological (in the academic sense of the word) reasons for my conversion.
1/8 Finding God in Everyday Life
“[As Catholics our contact with God] isn’t restricted to one hour in the sanctuary on Sunday,”. . .or during thirty minute morning Bible studies, or while listening to ambiguous worship music on the radio. God isn’t compartmentalized into “Church” things and “Normal” things. Catholics allow for finding God in the movie I watch on a Friday night, in the mug of tea I make in the morning, in a sweet phonecall from my family or my dear boyfriend, in the pain of rejection, in the moments of sickness and weakness. This means, when I enter into his holy presence on Sunday morning, it’s not like visiting a grandfather that I’ve heard about my entire life and in my own way love, but don’t have an open and honest relatonship with. It’s a time to adore and reverence the patriarch that holds the family together – the Father that I’ve shared everything with; not just the happiness and the “prosperity” but the brokeness, the anger, the funny blog that almost made me pee my pants, and the moments of raw silence sitting in his worshipful presence before the sun comes up.
Feedback is welcome! If you were a Protestant from a Charismatic/Pentecostal background questioning your wayward pastor’s daughter about her slide into Babylonian harlotry, would any of the reasoning I’m presenting over the next couple of days satiate your desire for Roman blood*
*only mildly hyperbolic. Seriously.