First Visit to Anglican Ordinariate

Wow.  I've been down this road before and I don't want to get ahead of myself (again), but wow.  This church seems to have everything we were looking for.

1. The priest faces ad orientum. (TLM, Eastern Orthodoxy)

2. Altar railing for receiving Communion while kneeling. (TLM)

3. Everything in English. (Novus Ordo)

4. Kneelers available and utilized in the pews. (TLM, Novus Ordo)

5. Communion by Intinction (Maronites, which was a super nice surprise!)

6. Incense. (TLM, Eastern Orthodox)

7. Bells. (TLM)

8. No sign of peace between the faithful. (TLM)

9. No passing of collection plate. (TLM, Eastern Orthodox)

10. The homily was 17 minutes long (it was available on YouTube later), and it was engaging and relatable.

11. Many women wore head coverings. (TLM, Holy Cross)

12. Tons of kids! (Holy Cross)

13. Interior of the church was colorful and joyful.  Walls painted pinkish, stained glass, stations of the cross.  I also saw several Eastern-style icons throughout.

14. There was a luncheon afterwards downstairs! (Holy Cross, Maronites)

15. Only one Mass for the congregation on Sunday - really helps solidify sense of community, along with the gathering afterwards. (Holy Cross, Maronites)

16. The priest, Fr. Albert, is married with children and introduced me to his wife, Abigail.

17. The Mass was an hour and a half, but the kids did not seem to notice and didn't mention length as a negative during our debriefing in the car on the way home.  (Holy Cross)

18. The bulletin provided included all the prayers and music, so I was able to not only understand bc it was in English, but also follow along and sing along!  It felt sooo good to be able to fully participate in the Mass again!

19. The kids had their own little bulletins and crayons they could take to the pews.  

20. There was a large TV set up downstairs where the Mass was shown for anyone needing to take rowdy kids.

21. The Gospel was read from the middle of the center aisle.

22. At the end, we faced a little Marian "shrine" to recite the Angelus prayer.

23. There was a lot of kneeling!  More than I remember from the Novus Ordo.

23.  I noticed via my peripheral vision that people were bowing and crossing themselves at various points.  Felt like they were more engaged with the Mass.  (Holy Cross)

24. This particular church is about 15 minutes closer to our house than our current Maronite one.

25.  We knew several people there already, apparently.  Small world!

26. The kids got to make an Advent wreath to take home as a table centerpiece.

27. Parishioners were friendly and approached us to talk.

28. Fr. Albert actually knows Fr. Joshua from Holy Cross, and mentioned that the two churches are like informal sister parishes!  It's as if God is telling me - you wanted Holy Cross but for Catholics; there you go! 

29. I have a new appreciation for organ music.  It turns out that I associate it with my formative years in Polish Catholic churches, and organ music is church music for me.  It doesn't have to be concert-quality, but the cantor and choir were actually quite good. And the provided music and lyrics meant I was able to join in singing, which I have missed so much at the Maronites, since so much of their service is in Arabic or Syriac with no phonetic cheat sheet.

30.  I teared up at one point during the singing, which is always a good sign that the Spirit dwells there.

31.  There was so much singing and chanting!  Even the readings were chanted (Holy Cross), which didn't bother me as much as it did at Holy Cross - perhaps because the bulletin had the readings printed and I could follow along. 

32. I already signed up to join them for their Advent mini-retreat on Saturday!

I have the same feeling I had when we first found Holy Cross, and then again when we first found the Maronites - I don't want to leave!  I worry that I won't find another church like this if we move to Georgia.  But I also have to remember that God is in control and is leading us to where we need to be.

While the kids aren't thrilled about changing churches again since they've come to appreciate the Maronites, they are both willing and found things they each liked about the Mass at the Ordinariate.  My son also said he'd be ok with receiving his First Communion there, which is a big plus, bc he was adamant he did not want to receive it at our old Novus Ordo church!

The funny thing is, God was saving our discovery of this church until I worked through some idolatry I had going due to my autistic black-or-white thinking.  I had associated the host with the Real Presence of Jesus, and the mere thought of the Eucharist at an Eastern Rite or Orthodox church made me doubt I could ever get on board with being spoon-fed Communion.  But then a talk with Maru helped me see that the external elements can change, but the reality of Jesus remains thanks to our faith.  Once I was ok with trying an Eastern Rite church, communion and all, God gave me a church where I didn't even need to change what I am used to, and not only that, I can continue to receive under both forms, AND on the knees the way I believe is proper and just.

The explanation on the bulletin said that we kneel to pray, sit for instruction, and stand to praise God.  I really like that delineation.  Something was very missing at the Maronites when we couldn't kneel.  Even the Orthodox, too, but their chanting was so incredibly beautiful and we stayed standing the entire time, that I never felt that I was being disrespectful by just sitting there.

At any rate, looks like we have a new church home.  We will attend the Maronites twice more, as the kids just signed up to do the Nativity play, but then we will be shifting gears, and I can't wait.  I'm grateful for the experience of worship with the Maronites, as it has helped me tremendously in my walk with Christ, but mainly because it helped me realize what is truly a priority for me and us as a family.

The Anglican Ordinariate is both reverent and joyful.  There's music and kneeling.  Communion is in both forms.  The altar servers are all male (there were like 9 boys and men serving at the altar today!), which is something else that I appreciate as I look forward to an all-male place for my son to plug in soon.

At any rate, God is good, all the time.  Alleluja, Amen.

Eucharist as Idol?

I've been wondering lately if I've turned the Eucharistic host into an idol.  When I was discerning conversion to the Orthodox Church, one of my stumbling blocks was the form of Communion - by spoon!  We attended an Eastern Rite Catholic church once where we opted out of receiving Communion (we also went to a TLM later that day, where we did receive Communion), even though we were technically eligible to receive. 

When we settled on the Maronite church, it seemed like it had the best of both worlds.  The Eucharist was in the familiar host form, dipped in the wine, but the liturgical prayers and hymns were more reverent than in the Roman Rite Novus Ordo Mass.  However, after three months of weekly attendance at the Maronite Divine Liturgy, I'm starting to get antsy yet again.  This time it's the kneeling.  I knew going in that the lack of kneeling would be a challenge.  I hoped the reverence of the liturgy would make up for it, but it hasn't.  Right now, I'm trying to mesh my personal need for kneeling with the reverence of the service by kneeling before and after receiving Communion even if no one else does.  I guess I associate kneeling with reverence, which is not an Eastern practice.  I also associate silence, traditional hymns, and bells with reverence, all of which are gone from the Roman Rite usually.  All that is left there is the kneeling.  It seems there is no secret sauce to be had anymore.

I guess God is calling me to stop focusing on my personal preferences and stop using religion as a balm for my personal comfort.  After all, that's not the point of Jesus's coming - to make me feel comfortable.

How I Came To Christ - No "Born Again" Experience Here!

My autistic spirituality may be a factor, and I will not be told/judged as having an "inauthentic" faith simply because it looks different than that of others.

Love is a decision and choice, not feeling --> relationship with Christ as "working out my salvation", what on the surface may appear to be "going through the motions" but differs from it by an internal intention and the openness to being changed in the process.  

I have seen people "going through the motions", doing the things that outwardly express their supposed faith, but when you dig a little below the surface, it quickly becomes evident that this is just superficial piety, nothing based on a repentant heart.  In my extended family, external religiosity is merely polite culture. 

The outwardly religious are just as likely as the outwardly atheists to ridicule me for wanting to fast beyond "no fish Fridays", participate in daily Mass, go on retreat, pray grace at every meal, etc.  So I know that to some who have been hurt by religionists, external expressions of religion may be associated with superficiality, but they are not automatically so!

I see these externals as ways that a truly spiritual heart would want to express itself and maybe even share its peace and joy with others.  Or alternately, these are ways by which the spiritual heart can go deeper into relationship with God - precisely through the physicality of the rituals.  I believe in an embodied faith.  I think it is ironic how so many supposed Christians - who believe that God Almighty became incarnate, that is, took on a physical body - would look down on physical expressions of said faith.  

The body is good and holy and a temple of the Holy Spirit.  It is right to adorn it with religious symbols such as a crucifix.  It is right to mark it with the sign of the cross.  It is right to utilize our senses to express our faith - be that through the sense of smell of incense, the sense of hearing of music, chant, bells..., the sense of touch via prayer beads, the sense of taste of Holy Communion, the vestibular sense of movement via metanoias, kneeling, prostrations, etc.  

We cannot look at the expression of a person's religion and judge them.  We can only look at the fruit that their religiosity is bearing in their lives.  Are they peaceful and joyful?  Are they merciful and compassionate? If so, what's the problem?  Clearly, their religious piety is helping them to be more virtuous and holy.  If not, then the problem isn't their piety but the disposition of their heart.  And that is true for the spiritual-but-not-religious as well.

Plenty of people claim to be spiritual but not religious and nonetheless the lack of religiosity does nothing to help them be more joyful or peaceful, merciful or compassionate.  On the other hand, other spiritual-but-not-religious-ers are plenty virtuous and holy, even if they don't subscribe to any particular religious tradition, or they do, but they don't participate in it regularly.

Only God knows their hearts.  Only God knows if they are meeting their obligations to God.  Practical and pragmatic alternatives being unbearable, I believe God meets us wherever we are and honors our turning to Him no matter what the reasons or details.

Having considered the secular, materialistic alternative to religiosity, I have decided that life would not be worth living with that worldview.  I refuse to succumb to it, even if in the end it turns out that it is factual.  Factual does not mean "true".  Truth is something that permeates existence and cannot be pinpointed with language.

While many would argue that my falling into Christianity isn't "valid", I disagree.  I believe that it is impossible to make a solid case for the superiority of the Christian religion with the number of in-house disagreements within Christianity.  How can Christians claim they've got it all figured out if they don't even think other Christians have it all figured out?  

But what I CAN get on board with is the spirit of the fundamentals of the faith, which I believe is based on the incarnation of the Divine, on the eternity of life, on the power of repentance and forgiveness, on the importance of mercy and compassion.  If a worldview somehow contributes to these principles, then I think it is doing the work of Christ, and it makes no difference if we use the label "Christian" for them or not.

(As an aside, the word "Christian" in Polish is actually literally translated as "The Baptised" - it's based on the act of baptism rather than on the name of the One who modeled baptism for us, namely Christ.  Christians even disagree on the meaning and importance of baptism, and certainly on the appropriate timing of it.  So with this in mind, some Christians may not be considered Christians in Polish.  But I digress...)

In a nutshell, I came to Christ by way of the process of elimination.  I tried on different worldviews, different religions, different spiritualities.  And while each had something to offer, not having found a perfect fit anywhere, I decided to do the practical thing and return to my roots.  I figured, if I'm not reinventing the wheel, trying to learn new prayers, new rituals, new ways of explaining life, then I can better concentrate on going deeper in the faith that already comes naturally to me.

I want to end this thought process on the following note:  I do not know of any mystics - in any religious tradition - that bicker about the need of people switching religions.  Rather, mystics urge us to go deeper, wherever we are.  And I believe firmly that if we go deep enough, regardless where we started, we will end up at the heart of all religion - union with God, theosis, salvation, nirvana, enlightenment, heaven, or at it's most basic: eternal peace and joy!

Beliefs, Rituals, Faith, Religion, Spirituality - oh My!

I firmly believe in a Creator God.  I believe *He is loving and powerful and omniscient.  I believe we live on in some way after death.  I believe this afterlife is different from our earthly life.  I don't know how, but I trust and believe it.  I base this belief on the observation of nature itself, including the entire cosmos!  Energy is neither created nor destroyed, so I believe "energy" is a scientific term for what religionists call God, but it is not a complete definition of God.  God IS energy (think Holy Spirit here), but energy is not an intelligent being.  Energy does not judge us for wrongdoing nor reward us for righteous living.  So God is more than just energy.

While many people argue that instead of God having created us in *His image, it is us who have created "a god" in our own image, I disagree.  I believe SOME people create a god in their own image, and this we'd call an idol.  This is a god that is limited in virtue and power and wisdom.  This is a vengeful god, a nit-picking god, a self-absorbed god.  This is nothing like the God of the Bible, the God of Christianity, the God I believe in.

Rather the God I believe in is the ideal to which all human beings aspire.  Because we cannot aspire to that which we do not know or have not experienced ourselves in some capacity, it leads me to believe that there is a touch of divinity left on our souls by our Creator, that causes us to look towards heaven and wonder.  That wonder is the spark necessary to form any spirituality, and often religion as well.  

I do recognize that spirituality and religion are two different approaches to God and all things heavenly, but they are not mutually exclusive.  Spirituality speaks to the mysterious, the emotive, the subtle, the inexplicable, the awe and peace and joy that we find in God.  Religion speaks to our desire for community, moral living, and traditions and rituals that help us mark milestones and express outwardly something of our inward faith.

Some people are only spiritual ("spiritual but not religious").  These are usually folks that have been burned by religion or religious authority figures, and they react to those experiences without being able to appreciate the positive aspects of religion. 

Other people are only religious.  These are generally the literalists, the extremists, the superficial list-checkers, the moralists - those who focus on the letter and not the spirit of the law that Jesus criticized.  They do what is supposed to be "good" but without allowing it to transform them from the inside.

But is such transformation really "necessary"?  Depends on what our goal is.  If an intentional life of peace and joy is the goal, then yes.  I do think living a spiritual life is more fulfilling than living a secular life.  But I do not thing that it is necessary to open the gates of heaven, for instance.  Though I do think we will have a better time "there" if we took time to prepare "here".

Then there's the definition of religion.  Is it the mere superficial doing of external rites, rituals, traditions?  Or is it also the belief in the meaning behind said actions?  If it's the latter, then I'm definitely religious - I find comfort in the liturgy, in repetition, in familiarity.  May be part of my personality, may be part of my autism.  But I like it and find meaning in it, but not necessarily the meaning the official magisterium of the church would like me to find.  

My spirituality isn't exactly Catholic Christian.  My religion is, but my spirituality is a hybrid.  The most important thing is how do I relate to God?  And this is the thing that cannot be pigeon-holed into any one set way.  What's more, it's not up for external validation, since no one else knows my heart the way God does.

* I use male pronouns because Jesus is male and He refers to the Source as "Abba/Father".  It's just a convenient way to keep God's superpersonhood in mind.  I cannot relate to God without gender.  Nowadays this point has really been driven home to me as people deny their biologically-based gender and reinvent grammar to try to fit with their need to be a nonconformist.  But I digress.  I've gone through periods when I referred to God with feminine pronouns, but since I am choosing to stay firmly within the Christian worldview, I find it more consistent to use the language that is familiar with other Christ-followers.  That said, it is understood that God is not "merely" male, nor is *He "merely" female.  God is "super" personal - that is, as a Trinity, God is not just "a" person like human beings.  But in order to relate to God, we must personify *Him to a degree based on our lived experience.  

The New "Mrs. Man's Name" is Genderlessness

We have entered the Fourth Turning - the inevitable Crisis of our society has arrived.  Social mores are being reimagined with a vengeance.  It's easy for those of us who have never lived through this before (most of us) to be in a bit of a panic about it, as if this has never happened before, or not to the same degree, or not in the same way... But really, each Crisis has the same effect on those generations who are middle aged and older when it hits.  

For us, it means racism is being reimagined and redefined.  It means that gender is being eliminated from the public sphere.  It means that the economic and political status quo is being uprooted with vocal neo-hippies who want to start from scratch no matter the cost.

And it's easy for us look at the seemingly sudden uproar and freak out.  But really, any honest student of history did see it coming, as William Strauss and Neil Howe's "The Fourth Turning" illustrates.  And therefore, there is no sense in trying to force the genie back in the bottle.  

The Crisis is at hand.  We can fight it and exhaust ourselves, or we can accept it and reimagine our new role in relation to the new world order (and I don't mean this necessarily politically, but just in general).  

In particular, I'm thinking here of gender ideology.  It makes very little sense to me to take a mental disorder and normalize it to the point of gaslighting the rest of us into thinking we have been fooling ourselves all these millennia thinking species come in two sexes.  But that's the first problem - semantics.  

Sex and gender, as I learned back in my undergrad days, are not interchangeable terms.  Therefore, as long as we think they are, we will be talking past each other.

Sex is the biological fact of our physical bodies, including our chromosomal makeup (XY or XX, or some abnormality thereof), our genital makeup (egg-production or sperm-production, or some abnormality thereof), and our secondary sex characteristics (musculature, body hair, voice).  This last section is where the overlap with gender begins. 

While it is true that males tend to be more muscular, more hairy, and have deeper voices, while females tend to be less muscular, less hairy, and have higher voices, this is not universally so and varies by ethnicity.  What's more, it is often exaggerated by socio-cultural efforts to highlight stereotyped beliefs and expectations about the sexes.

Gender is the set of those stereotypes that are associate with a given sex in a specific culture and historical period.  Clothing is a starting point.  Only modern times have allowed the rather extreme differences in acceptable dress for females and males.  Historically speaking, most people wore some variation of a tunic that more or less draped male and female bodies in very comparable ways.  In those times, we generally see women demarcate themselves with an additional head covering, though often males also wore these for practical reasons.  

Outside of clothing, hair has historically been used to accentuate a person's sex/gender, especially when clothing didn't always do the job.  Males often sported facial hair, while females wore their head hair long.  Although with certain cultures, hair was traditionally long universally.

So really: hair, clothing, as well as various adornments like makeup and jewelry are completely arbitrary gender markers, meaning they are socio-cultural ways of signaling the sex of the individual, but they are not what makes the individual the sex that they are.  As such, those things can and do change from culture to culture and between time periods.

With that said, it is important to note that what gives those markers any meaning at all is that society agrees on those meanings.  Once society starts to question the association of facial hair with masculinity or makeup with femininity, we enter chaos, because people no longer know what to expect.  This is where we find ourselves today with gender bender ideology.

Twenty years ago, I was on the bandwagon of gender neutrality to a point, before I had realized the logical conclusion of such a world-view.  I was outspoken against sexist language, I refused sex-based social titles ("Mrs") and names (husband's surname), and I entered motherhood insisting on what I thought was a gender-neutral babyhood for my children.  

By today's standards, I was mild.  For me, being gender-neutral just meant wearing neutrally-colored and decorated onsies and outfits that looked equally cute on a little girl or a little boy.  I never once thought to undermine the idea that underneath it all, there actually WAS a little girl OR a little boy.   I also didn't push stereotypical toys onto my children, instead focusing on things I deemed educational and useful for a human child, regardless of sex.  So I got cars for my daughter and dolls for my son.  I thought I was a rebel.

Today, parents are no longer allowing society to even try to force their gendered stereotypes onto their children by... simply not revealing to anyone which sex their child is.  They choose gender-neutral names and use the third person plural pronoun to refer to the child, so that people simply cannot stereotype them according to sex. In my generation, we did what we could, but there were still people who, knowing we had a daughter or a son, would nonetheless come at us with color-coded gifts and assumptions about their temperament or future careers.  Technically, we were still at the mercy of well-meaning, or not-so-well-meaning others.

Today's gender-neutral parents have found a way to take that risk completely out of the equation.  I can't say that I blame them.  I get so up in arms about nonsense I hear about my daughter's physically attractiveness but my son's temperament, as if they don't both have both qualities.  

Yet I'm not exactly on board with the new gender bender world-view.  I believe the sexes ought to have equal opportunities and be treated with equal respect, but I do not believe they should become indistinguishable from each other.  I believe it is something beautiful to be feminine as a female, and to be masculine as a male.  God made us male and female and said it was very good, and I for one have no reason to argue.  There are things about being female that are wonderful precisely because they are not universal to all humans.  Part of what makes us human, in fact, is actually our sex and the associated life experiences that differentiate us from the opposite sex.  

I do honor each individual's right to identify how they want to identify - on one hand.  On the other hand, what bothers me is the lack of understanding why such a seismic shift in worldview is being thrust upon us oldtimers with such fury and so little comprehension for why it may take us time - a lot of time - to wrap our minds around it.  Accusing us of being bigotted hardly opens up the lines of communication.  

When I call a biological female "she", it's not to be disrespectful, but it's because that is what four decades of living on this planet has taught me.  Expecting an overnight change is simply unrealistic, and yes, we're going to push back against being forced to change.

But there's more.  We also learned how to be respectful, and interestingly, respect is not expressed in universal ways.  I remember people thinking they were being "respectful" when they referred to me as "Mrs. Husband's First Name".  It absolutely infuriated me!  I come from a culture where thank God this type of "etiquette" never took root, and so I did not find it respectful in the least to have my own name erased from the public square simply because I was married.  I never stopped to consider that the people offending me were not doing so intentionally.  They were operating according to the rules they had been taught.  Their world view had not had a chance to upgrade.

And so here we are again, this time with me being the inadvertent disrespector when I "misgender" someone.  Back when, I sighed with annoyance when someone assumed I went by "Mrs. Man" but I absolutely went berserk when someone called me that even after I let them know that was not how I wanted to be addressed.  

Today, people are having the exact same reaction to us calling them "she" or "he" based on our cultural programming, which tells us that 1) we can make gender assumptions based on people's external markers such as physical features or name, and that 2) sex and gender are essentially the same thing.  I'm trying to be respectful, because the idea of calling someone "it" - that is, ungendered, is downright dehumanizing.  And yet that is what people thought they were doing if they didn't acknowledge my affiliation with my husband - as if my existence as a human being was somehow diminished because I was married yet not being acknowledged as such.  Married status was seen as more important for a woman than a man.

Today's youth are doing away with gender as a concept altogether, and while I grew up with gender as a fact of life, if I want to maintain integrity in respecting the wishes of individuals even when I do not understand said wishes, I will need to readjust how I think about people without the lens of gender.

My gut reaction is that to take away gender is to take away the humanity of a person.  But for the youth of today, who are simply not "married" to their sex the way I was not "married" to my... well, being married, one of us is going to need to adjust our world-view.  I, being of an older generation, claim to have more wisdom, which includes the ability to compare current situations with previous ones and to draw similarities between them.  I cannot expect the same from the youth.  They are making their demands not to be difficult, althought their demands are indeed very difficult for us old-timers.  They are making their demands in the same spirit as I made my demands 20 years ago.  I simply wanted the right to define myself by my own standards.  I did not want to be told who I was.  Once I was allowed to do so, with time and experience, I came around to the idea of being called "Mrs.".  Albeit, I still will not go by my husband's given name.  But I would happily respond if someone simply called my by his surname.  That is the compromise that could have only come through time.

And so I can hope for as much to get worked out with this new demand of genderlessness.  God willing, with enough time and life experience, the pendulum will swing again in the direction of balance, and as people stop pushing gender on others, those others will stop insisting on avoiding gender, and eventually we will arrive in a place of compromise where we can all agree that life makes sense again.  

But this won't happen any time soon.  And so, I embark on a new phase in my life - acknowledging that I am now part of the middle-aged generation, and that our ideas are no longer the new thing.  I have to make way for the even newer ideas, and practice patience, humility, and understanding.

I trust that this new attitude will be much more healthy and useful than digging my heels in and rolling my eyes at each new mention of gender.  I don't have to understand it or even embrace it for myself to respect that it matters to other people.  If I am to see others the way God sees them, that starts with making an effort to try to see them the way they see themselves.  

Jesus First Spirituality

Thanks be to God, the Lord has been leading me to understand what it means to have a Jesus-first spirituality without becoming a Protestant!

I had to first shed the idea that the Sunday church experience is supposed to somehow "carry" us through the week.  No, we need to put forth our own effort throughout the week.  Sunday ought to be a time of renewal and recharging for the week, but it does not excuse us from working out our own salvation (Philippians 2:12-13).

Divine Liturgy is the communal/corporate aspect of our spirituality and faith.  It is not the be all and end all.  There must be prayer rules and fasting rules in place.  There must be regular confession and Bible reading.  There must be regular silent meditation either in nature or Eucharistic adoration (or both).  

We do need to be intentional about who our friends are, and even more who our children's friends are.  But we don't want to become so isolationist that our kids don't know how to be friends with people who are different from them.  There needs to be a balance.  

The homeschooling co-op at the Orthodox church is a good local source of well behaved Christian friends for our kids (and me).  But we do need to still make an effort to find specifically Catholic friends for us.

Perhaps the monthly children's Mass and time fellowshipping afterwards may be a good source of Catholic friends.  It may also be a good source of small groups that meet during the week.  

Just the Facts - Maronite Rite

Fact - I want to remain Catholic.

Fact - There are different varieties of Catholic out there.

Fact - We have found one such Catholic church in the Maronite church.

Fact - The manner of reception of Holy Communion matters to me.

Fact - The manner of reception of Holy Communion at the Maronite church checks off several of the boxes for me: unleavened Host, dipped in Blood-Wine and therefore receive once but under both forms, received directly on the tongue, received directly from consecrated hands, received in the context of a joyous and reverent liturgy.  

Fact - I am used to kneeling in the context of worship.

Fact - I associate kneeling with reverence and humility.

Fact - One of the reasons we are looking for a new church is to become part of a community of faithful.

Fact - To be part of a community, we need to adjust to their cultural norms.

Fact - The Maronite Catholics do not kneel during their Divine Liturgy, as it is a Western/Latin practice.

Fact - I can still kneel in private prayer, in Eucharistic Adoration, on retreat, whenever attending Novus Ordo (daily) Mass, and even before/after Divine Liturgy.

Fact - I have long been drawn to veiling.

Fact - Being around a lot of women who veil at Holy Cross Orthodox church has given me the confidence I needed to start this devotion without worrying about if I'm the only one doing it.

Fact - Women's veiling is a universal historical practice.

Fact - The Maronite church in question does not currently have any women who veil.

Fact - I can still veil while in attendance at the Maronite Divine Liturgy without being disrespectful because it is not a Latinate custom.

Fact - A commute doesn't lend itself to a very convenient community.

Fact - None of the Catholic churches we have considered lend themselves to a very convenient community either, and those that do, are not to our standards in terms of reverence.

Fact - Holy Cross is not an ideal church choice for us because (1) it is not Catholic and therefore we cannot fully participate in the Liturgy as we are barred from their Communion, (2) if we were to become catechumens, we would have to stop receiving the Eucharist at Catholic churches and so we would go without being spiritually fed until our formal reception into Orthodoxy, and (3) their Communion form is so foreign to me that it does not feel like the Eucharist at all.

Fact - We have missed the boat on allowing our children full access to the Holy Mysteries from the time of their baptism because we come from the Latin rite and were unaware of alternatives.

Fact - Going forward, my son can get married and still become a priest in the Maronite Rite should that be what God is calling him to.  

Fact - DH and I both agree we felt positive vibes from the Maronite church.

Fact - If community is what we're after, we already met one family from the Maronite church - the very homeschoolers who introduced us to this Rite!  We should make an effort to both meet additional people there, and to help the kids that have already met hit it off.

Fact - The Maronite church seems to be a good blend of what I love about Catholicism and what I've come to love about Orthodoxy.  

Fact - Hearing chant and prayers in a language closely related to the very language Jesus spoke is valuable in itself, and this is something the Maronite Rite offers that cannot be found in other Rites.

Fact - Unless and until we come across an obstacle, we should continue where we have been led, even if unexpectedly and even if it doesn't look exactly as I had envisioned it.

Fact - Seemingly missing from the Maronite church: color and wall decoration of any kind, kneeling, women's head covering, proximity to our home, unknown homeschooling people.

Fact - The alternative to the Maronite church is the Novus Ordo church led by Fr. Eric, where we will nonetheless continue to attend monthly children's Mass.  This is the "safe" option.  We may need to quickly discern where to become parishioners in order for Antonio to receive his First Communion there.

Fact - Antonio wants to receive his First Communion at a reverent church, he would prefer to receive kneeling, today in church he said he'd rather wait until he's 7 so it'll be more special, and now he says kneeling isn't as important to him anymore.  Bottom line, we need to make an executive decision for him.

Fact - I want to give the Maronite church a fair shake.  I don't know what the future holds, but I'm intrigued enough to return and to prepare some questions for the priest there and make an effort to meet some of the other parishioners.

Lingering with the Maronites

If I am really intent on following the Lord where He may lead me, I will have to be open to stepping out of my comfort zone.  Maybe that means refraining from kneeling during Divine Liturgy.  Maybe that means commuting to our church community.  Maybe that means joining a faith community that has grown from an ethnic heritage that is different from that of anyone in our family.

And maybe the reason I must step outside of my comfort zone is that within it, our faith has gotten stale.  Within it, I have exhausted all possible paths to piety and virtue and holiness.  Within it, we stagnate and do not grow.

Maybe growth in our spiritual lives means becoming open to something different.  In the fantastic show "The Chosen", which is known for ad libbing to fill in contextual gaps from the Bible to help us better relate to the key players of the Gospel, there is a scene where Jesus says, "Get used to different."  Perhaps He never actually said these words, but isn't that what His message was all about anyway?  To see with new eyes?

2 Corinthians 5:17 says: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!"

The Lord led me to Holy Cross, the Antiochian Eastern Orthodox Church where we have lingered for over a year off and on.  Several months ago, there was a brief moment where I thought we were ready to make the jump and convert.  But the Lord stopped me in my tracks with the Eucharist.

I love everything about the Orthodox Holy Cross parish except the Eucharist, and the Eucharist is precisely the center of our faith and the purpose for which we are seeking a reverent church!  It need not be logical.  I'm autistic, and I came to faith in Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist when it was in the unleavened form of the Host.  While I thought I'd really like to have leavened bread in liturgy and communion, my actual experience has been otherwise.  

I've received leavened bread at an Episcopal church once.  And I've observed leavened bread at Orthodox Divine Liturgy.  And to my eyes, it is bread.  It is beautifully symbolic bread.  There is something about the unleavened Host that is reminiscent of the manna from heaven that we read about in Exodus 15 and John 6:58.

I've often said that there needs to be something other-worldly about the environment of the worship space.  That's why mere table fellowship in the way of the Quakers didn't do it for me.  And while I was very excited about the prospect of baking our church's anaphora bread that would then be consecrated for Holy Communion, it actually made it too ... mundane.  

I don't doubt that the early Eucharist was just this way.  I'm not commenting on the validity of the Eucharist when in this form.  I'm merely stating that the Lord is using this hesitation of mine to better lead me to where He wants our family.

When we visited the Russian Rite Catholic church, they used the spoon and leavened bread.  I didn't feel it there, either.  I realized then that it's not about Rome, or the Papacy, or which church is more apostolic than the other.  For me, it is going to come down to the Eucharist.

But while the Eucharist at our Novus Ordo Masses is the way I need it to be relatable and believable, the lack of reverence around it counters my expectations.

And while the Eucharist at the Tridentine Masses is indeed surrounded by reverent liturgy, that liturgy is somber and downright depressing.  

At Holy Cross, I have experienced joyful and reverent liturgy, and so what remained to be found is a joyful and reverent liturgy that also has the Eucharist that I can relate to.

And then we went to the Maronite Catholic Divine Liturgy, which felt part Orthodox, part Catholic, and part.... je ne c'est qua! It was familiar enough that I could feel comfortable joining in prayer.  It was reverent and joyful.  I was able to fully part-take in the very purpose of the gathering - to partake of the Lord's body and blood in the Eucharist in a form that spoke to me.  Not only was it the familiar unleavened Host, but it was the Host dipped in the Blood-wine and received all in one act of reception!  

The few times I've received the Eucharistic Jesus under both forms of bread and wine have always been via two separate acts - host on tongue (or worse, on the hand!) and sip from the chalice.  This always felt divisive of Our Lord.  There is One God, One Lord, One Body and Blood, One salvation.  Having the Eucharist split like this inevitably led to eventually eliminating the laity from receiving the Blood at all.  Which begged the question - do we still receive the Lord fully as He intended us to?  He did say, "Take and eat; take and drink."  

Yes, there are differences in the Maronite church.  But this is good, I think.  It allows us to look at our faith anew.  It gives us an opportunity to learn with fresh insights what it is that we do when we gather for worship!

There are no familiar Stations of the Cross on the walls of the church.  No stained glass windows.  No kneelers and no kneeling.  This particular church doesn't seem to currently have the practice of women veiling, but I don't think that is a stumbling block.  I think since veiling is a universal heritage and not a Latin practice, I can confidently continue to veil without fear of coming across as trying to Latinize this beautiful Catholic Rite.

What if, when I longed for the Orthodox and Catholic churches to unite, the Eastern Rites of the Catholic church are what God answered with?  For where we are now, perhaps the Maronite Rite is the right one for us.  Perhaps in the future, if we move, a different Rite will take it's place.  But at least I know it will still be Catholic, I will still be faithful to my conscience, and I will not need to keep myself or my daughter away from the Eucharist as we transition between churches.

I thought I wanted to check out the former Anglican ordinariate churches when I recently found out about them.... but I don't think I need to anymore.  I think the Maronite church is where the Lord wants us right now.  

What remains to be seen is if this is where we shall become official parishioners, and if this is where my son shall receive his First Holy Communion.

Lord, lead me on the path.  Amen.

First Visit to Maronite Catholic Church

The Lord is slowly leading us to a faith community where we will grow in faith and virtue.  We recently made new friends via our homeschooling group, an unlikely family where the parents and children speak Polish and Spanish in addition to English, and who homeschool, and who are Catholic!  

Today we decided to go to Divine Liturgy at their Maronite Catholic church in DC.  I looked it up online and wasn't sure it was going to be a good fit.  I asked our new friend and her answers further made me doubt it.  

The women do not veil, and the congregation does not kneel during the service.  I have come to really appreciate wearing a scarf during prayer and Mass, even when I'm not in the majority.  But since this was a new rite for me, I did not want to come across as bringing my Latinate practices as if they were better than theirs.  However, now that I've been once, I would be more comfortable wearing a scarf next time, even if I'm the only one, however I do want to hone in on a better style than just the Muslim-style hijab I've been wearing.  And, there was one Latin-rite woman there who wore a scarf that I noticed when we were going up for Communion.

The kneeling is another practice that I would miss.  Just like at the Orthodox church, there is no kneeling at all, never mind for reception of Holy Communion.  There is standing and sitting.  I did see one man receive the Eucharist on his knees (another Latin rite Catholic, probably there with the veiled woman who was right behind him).  I resorted to my previous practice of genuflecting immediately before receiving the Eucharist.  I had been kneeling regardless of the church lately, but again, I did not want to send a message that I'm a newcomer know-it-all.  Perhaps I could receive on the knees in the future, especially after consulting the priest there.  But even if not, I realized that if we arrive early enough, the atmosphere of the church was prayerful, so I expect I'd be able to spend a few silent minutes praying in front of the altar or tabernacle, and again afterwards.  Plus, just because others aren't kneeling doesn't mean I can't kneel before/after receiving Communion, once I'm back in my pew.

Why am I even talking about how to make peace with these two features that didn't resonate with me?  Because something else did.  Enough to want to return.  Enough to want to discern if this may be the place the Holy Spirit has been leading us to all along.

There was prayerful music.  It wasn't the same style of chanting as at the Orthodox church.  There was an organ.  But there was also singing/chanting that was both in English and Arabic, and it was angelic in its own right.  Oscar articulated it best: it was like the Muslim call to prayer.  

About 12 years ago, I went through a period of discerning conversion to Islam.  Of course, it didn't go anywhere because I realized the Muslim beliefs about Jesus just weren't sound.  But three things attracted me to Islam: women's head coverings, the postures of prayer, and Arabic.  

The church itself I was expecting to be modern art-deco style, so I didn't think I'd want to come back.  But actually, while a modern construction, Oscar pointed out that it was like they made it intentionally to feel like a cave!  And it's true!  The materials were nothing modern-ish. No metal, no sharp edges.  Plain white washed walls.  Very Quaker-simple actually.  Except the altar.  The altar was lighted by a huge window/skylight that bathed the area in light, and cast shadows of crossbeams onto the wall.  It really drew the attention to where the Consecration was taking place.  Even the crucifix above the altar was small and low to the ground compared to the vast space available for it.  Again, drawing our attention to what was happening at the altar.

I tried my best to follow along with the prayers and these too were beautiful.  They were all about getting us ready for the Eucharist, and then thanking God for the Eucharist.  Maybe we have something like that in the Novus Ordo, but I've never noticed it the way I did at today's Divine Liturgy.  

And while we did not receive the Eucharist on our knees, we did receive under both forms, body and blood of our Lord.  How long has it been since I've received under both forms!  And even then, it was a two-step process. At the Novus Ordo Mass, I'd go up to receive the host, then to take a sip from a chalice.  To me, this separation of Jesus into His two parts - body and blood - took away from the powerful meaning of Holy Communion.  But here, at the Maronite Divine Liturgy, I only received the Lord once, already under both forms!  (Just like at the Orthodox church, but without the spoon, with the familiar host.)

I also want to add that when I received Our Lord in the Eucharist today, under both forms but in one fell swoop, if you will, I immediately thought of the Scripture passage about the road to Emmaus and how the disciples, after Jesus made Himself known to them and then disappeared, said: "didn't our hearts burn within us as He talked with us and opened up the Scriptures to us?" (Luke 24:32)  In like manner, I felt a pleasant .... "burning" sensation on my tongue thanks to the "communion wine".  Truly, I was able to "taste and see the goodness of the Lord" (Psalm 34:8), which if I'm being honest, I cannot literally taste the host by itself.

I wanted to also add that the sign of peace was quite nice.  The priest first expressed peace to his fellow priests, to the deacons, seminarians, servers, and then two altar servers went down the outside aisles and with hands clasped in prayer fashion (without interlocking thumbs) and offered the sign of peace to the first person in each pew on either side, and then those people passed the peace to the next person all the way down their pew.  In this way, as long as everyone does this, no one is left out of the sign of peace, which is often a possibility in both Novus Ordo Mass and Orthodox Divine Liturgy, which are more localized and so if no one around you reaches out to you or you don't make an effort yourself, then you won't have shared the peace with anyone.

And so, I will have to do some more research on this beautiful rite.  We will need to go ahead and try to tap into the community.  I realized too that whenever I would say I wanted diversity, I meant I wanted "Brown" people around!  I don't know if it's a desire to be close to people who presumably resemble Jesus, or people who resemble the Romani that I know I have in my background somewhere... but this attraction dates to before meeting Oscar.  In fact, I was attracted to him because of his Brownness, if you will. 

Sometimes you can't explain why the heart wants what it wants.  You just trust in God and follow His promptings.  And today, I'm glad I did.  I may not be able to get everything I want from the Maronite Divine Liturgy, but I may just get everything that my family and I need.

I feel as though we attended an Orthodox Divine Liturgy, certainly different from the Antiochian Orthodox liturgy we're used to, but nonetheless with enough Eastern features to feel Orthodox, and yet we were fully able to participate, to receive Our Lord with no deception, no waiting, no permission, no nothing!  The priest even asked Oscar if our son was receiving, so again, the children are not excommunicated once they are baptized!  I only regret not having found this rite earlier so that my children could have grown up with the Eucharist from day one.

+

Beautiful Arabic/Syriac chanting

Sign of Peace

Eucharist under both forms

Fellowship after Divine Liturgy

Simple, clean interior

Many priests/deacons/seminarians/altar servers at altar

One year reading cycle

Faint incense present

Confession before every Liturgy (10:15-10:45am)

Religious Education for children before every Liturgy (10am)

Rosary before Liturgy (10:15)

-

No kneeling at all (but I can pray quietly kneeling before and after Liturgy as well as after Communion if I choose, plus I'll ask the priest about receiving the Eucharist while kneeling)

No veiling common (but it doesn't mean that I can't continue the practice myself)

Interior unadorned (for kids - but we'll try sitting up front so they can observe what goes on at the altar)

Distance from home (but we were pretty much expecting that no matter what we chose since the local churches are generally Novus Ordo and only Fr. Erick's church with the monthly children's Mass is a viable contendor)

Father-Daughter Relationship

I wasn't able to fully reflect on my relationship with my Dad while he was alive because of the nagging feeling of incompleteness and uncertainty resulting from his traumatic brain injury.  I lost him 23 years ago, yet he lingered on with bits and pieces of his personality and from inside his Earthly body, with his voice but mostly no words. How does a daughter relate to a father not in the role of a father?  I couldn't come to him for advice.  I couldn't expect him to be proud of me anymore.  

Really, the only thing I could do, and I did do thanks be to God, is relate to him through his grandchildren when my daughter and son were born.  I know it brought him great joy to be a grandfather.  I know he loved seeing the babies, then toddlers, then preschoolers, and finally big kids visiting him, even if all he really ever did was collect snacks to gift to them every time we'd visit.  

He tried having them watch "cartoons" but I had to nip that in the bud as his discernment of what constituted appropriate children's television was off, not to mention his complete inability to appreciate that I may have standards that he ought to respect.

Thanks to my mom, we also shared meals together.  These were generally short and without conversation with my dad.  But nonetheless, it was time spent together.

The first 14 years after his accident, I was in the desert so to speak.  Although I got married just four years after his accident, we spent the following 10 years trying to have children before we were finally blessed with our two bundles of joy.  During those 14 years, I had to brace myself to always have my dad ask when we were going to have children, and why we didn't yet have children.  It was nauseating and I dreaded seeing my dad because I knew that was the only thing he'd want to "talk about".  

Then again, during those years, he also tried to relearn how to read again. So each visit, I would sit with him and go through the alphabet.  Over time, he began to copy sentences from children's books into a Word Document on his computer, and when I'd visit, he'd have me read what he wrote aloud.  This must have made him feel like he could still "write" since I was reading mostly legible, real words. 

He knew he couldn't communicate orally with most people.  His aphasia was so severe that even my mom would sometimes be at a loss as to what he wanted to get across.  Americans assumed he spoke Polish and it was difficult to explain what aphasia looks like in a bilingual patient.

Before his accident, I feel as though I was in a good, albeit neutral place with my Dad.  I had been a typical teenager, rebellious and misunderstood by my parents.  Probably more so considering I grew up not knowing about my autism.  Probably more so considering I was a child immigrant being raised in a culture my parents could not explain to me.  

But when I showed my parents my delayed entry card demonstrating I had enlisted in the Army, my Dad was visibly proud.  I carried that feeling of validation with me all my life.  For this one decision, my Dad approved of me.  It made all my stupid teenage antics fade away, because I had done something good for a change, something that my Dad was proud of me for.  

One year later, while I was away in the Army, my dad had his accident.  I had a premonition dream the night after his accident.  I was awoken from it with a phone call from my mom telling me he was in the hospital, in an induced coma.  I was already scheduled to fly home to visit and introduce Oscar to my family, so I did that within a week or two.  When I got back, I sprang into action to request a family hardship discharge, which took 3 months to receive.  

Looking back, it was my mom thinking of my constant complaining about how much I hated the Army that allowed me to get out when I did.  She had me write a letter expressing how my language skills would be needed for her to take over family affairs.  And while I did indeed translate documents here and there, really it was probably not much more than most immigrant children do for their parents.  It didn't take my mom long to get up to speed and run the household on her own.  But by then, I had been granted my discharge and came back to live close to home.

Before his accident, my dad did not understand me.  No one did.  I was autistic and I didn't know it, and neither did they.  I wasn't very close to anyone really, by today's standards.  I'm only now realizing that my emotional needs growing up were neglected, because my parents were not taught much emotional intelligence.  Their emotional needs were not met, so they didn't know how to do that, or that they weren't doing it.  

But before the troublesome teenage years, I loved my tatus.  I had him and my mom all to myself for nearly 9 years, except that my dad was gone from my life for 4 years when he immigrated before we did.  He kept in touch by letters and occasional phone calls.  He'd send funky photographs and have us guess what it was, or just to show off that when we'd join him, we'd have a house phone.  

When we arrived in New York and were reunited with my Dad, for a short time, I guess I was a daddy's little girl.  I was super polite, quiet, obedient.  We played Legos together.  He liked to take me and my mom on little field trips to show us this new country in which we had arrived.   He worked hard to move us quickly from the apartment in Bladensburg to one in Silver Spring, and then another year later, to purchase a house all the way in Fredericksburg, Virginia, so that we could live in a safe neighborhood and so I could go to good schools.  

But because he worked so hard, such long hours, and then with such a terrible commute, I didn't really see much of him, and there was no such thing as "papi and me" time back then.  At least not in my household.  We grew distant because as I entered adolescence in a foreign culture, my parents did not expect the challenges that would bring.  I felt blamed for my difficulties, for my rebellion, for my questioning of authority.  I needed to be talked to.  I needed to be asked what I was feeling and how I was doing.  I needed to be assured that our faith was something that was a continuation of what we all knew from the old country, so that I could hang onto it when tough times came.  But my parents didn't know that.

Before our separation, I only have two memories with my dad from Poland.  One may have been a created memory from a photograph.  I was about 3 and we were visiting a cousin of his on their farm.  I was shy, but he wanted me to come sit on his lap as he crouched in front of a car - maluch.  I was cuddled up against him as the photo was taken.  I remember being there, in his embrace, safe from the prying eyes of people I did not know who were taking our picture.

Then, I remember overhearing my parents talking, about a year later, in the foyer.  I was already supposed to be asleep.  I got out of bed and found my parents saying goodbye by the front door.  I protested my dad's leaving.  My mom picked me up, and I reached to pull on my dad's brown woolen scarf in my childish attempt to get him to stay.  No one had talked to me about the fact that he was leaving on a long work trip.  No one thought it would be prudent to let me know that my father was not merely abandoning me, not even bothering to tell me that he was leaving.  They just figured I'd go about my day with whatever explanation they'd give me, acting like it didn't matter that my dad was no longer in my daily life.

I must have felt protected and provided for by my dad on some level even back then, because while I don't recall specific memories with him other than these two, I clearly had a positive attitude towards him, and I missed him when he left and I looked forward to meeting him again when I was 8.

I doubt that I subconsciously felt fear of abandonment already from the age of six weeks, when I was baptized but he didn't come to my baptism.  I only found out about this at the age of 40.  But maybe?

My baptism when I was 6 weeks old.

Leaving the country when I was 4 years old.

Focused on work but not my changing needs in adolescence. 

Then our blessed reconciliation just in the nick of time, when I joined the Army at the age of 19.

His accident which left him with a severe traumatic brain injury and me without a father figure, at the age of 20.

And finally, his earthly death when I was 43, five days after my last conversation with him (during which time we said "I love you" as we had recently started doing), about 6 weeks after the last time I saw him when I visited for Father's Day.  Sadly, I did not take any photos on that visit.  Perhaps I was getting weary of taking random photos each visit.  But already earlier this year, I had started to feel that each visit could be our last.  I had a surreal sense of saying goodbye without really saying it.  

I knew he could go at any time. But really, this is true for all of us.  No one knows the hour nor the day (Matthew 24:36).

And so, my relationship with my father has come to an end.  About a month or two before he passed away, I started a daily morning and evening prayer rule.  I included a prayer for my parents in it, from a book by Jesuits.  The first time I prayed that prayer after his death, the following words hit me hard: "may they die the death of the just, may they pass quickly to their heavenly home".  I had been praying for a happy death for him leading right up to his passing, including the night before and that morning even!  

I take comfort in knowing that, and in the continued prayers of my children and myself for the repose of his soul.  I thank God for making me Catholic, where we believe in Purgatory, where we believe there is always hope, there are things the Lord can do even after death.  Truly, death is not the end of our relationship with God, even if it is the end of our relationship with others.  

In a way, because I continue to pray for my dad even now, we continue to have a relationship of sorts.  In a way, our relationship now can become more pure, more unadulterated by circumstances, hurts, habits, and hang-ups.  And eventually, I pray, the tables will turn, and having entered heavenly glory, my Dad will then pray for me :)

Checklist for Christ's Church

The worship of Christ's church must inspire us to live out the Gospel.  Our worship should:

1. be done with other believers

2. on a regular (weekly+) basis

3. in a beautiful space

4. separated from the mundane to grab our attention and include a sense of being in the presence of God

5. encourage private prayer in preparation and thanksgiving

6. include communal prayers that praise God

7. include songs that praise God

8. express gratitude

9. express repentance and a desire to be transformed

10. express joy

11. challenge us to stand against the world

12. bring offerings to further God's kingdom

13. offer our very selves as a sacrifice for God

14. enter into communion with God and each other through the Eucharist

Change is Inevitable and Life-Giving

I do not believe the Second Vatican Council was a mistake.  I do believe forming committees and including Protestants and artificially remaking the Mass after it had formed slowly and organically over 1,900 years was completely inappropriate and it doesn't take much digging to see what sort of liturgical abuses have become downright common in most American Novus Ordo Masses.

That said, the idea that we should just stick with tradition for the sake of tradition is anathema to the idea of a living faith.  To be alive means to change and to grow.  To refuse change for the sake of, well, not changing, is to refuse life and God.

However, that doesn't mean that any change will do.  Change for change's sake is no better than being stuck in tradition for tradition's sake.  Yes, change is scary, but when taken on with prudence and discernment, and moved through slowly, it can lead to some great things!

Thanks to change, we no longer see human sacrifice as acceptable.  Thanks to change, we no longer believe slavery is acceptable.  Thanks to change, we started to listen to the voices of people "of color" and women.

Also thanks to change, we no longer know what a woman is.  Also thanks to change, we have merely pushed slavery underground under the guise of human trafficking.  Also thanks to change, we have renamed human sacrifice with terms like "reproductive freedom" and "right to die".

So there really is no new thing under the sun (see Ecclesiastes 1:9).  And yet, the reason we know we are alive is that things keep shifting, moving, changing.  No one said it has to be a one-way movement.  Just that we keep moving.  Change is inevitable and refusing to embrace change and ride out the unavoidable waves is to bury one's head in the sand.

Or to put one's lamp under a basket (see Matthew 5:15).  Resisting change is based in fear.  Fear is the opposite of faith, and Jesus Himself admonished us to live in faith and not in fear.

Trying to Say Goodbye

Since we have to wait three years before taking my Dad's ashes to have him buried with his mother in Poland, even though it's going to be one month the day after tomorrow since he was called home by the Lord, I feel a need to formally say goodbye.

I saw, even lifted, his urn yesterday and said a little prayer at his urn, though it was a strange circumstance, seeing as it was in my mom's house and not at church or a cemetery. 

But tonight, we go to Mass which is being offered for him.  It coincides with my sister's birthday, my maternal grandparents' wedding anniversary, and of course the feast of the Assumption of Mary.  The gracious people at our church reached out to me after I posted a prayer request after his passing.  They included him in the prayer of the faithful the very next Sunday, and they suggested offering tonight's Mass for the repose of his soul.  

What a contrast to what I would've expected growing up in Polish Catholicism.  There, one goes to the church and makes a donation, and in return, a Mass is offered for your loved one.  Here, not a word has been said about financial compensation.  

I noticed tonight that Oscar was also wearing a black shirt.  I've been doing laundry a bit more frequently because I've only been wearing my black tops for nearly a month now.  The standard Polish tradition is to stay in mourning - and in black - for a full year for someone as close as one's parent.  But we are not in Poland, and even my mom has not abided by this merely human tradition.  Mourning is something very personal, carried in one's heart, not on one's sleeve.  

And so I think with tonight's Mass, I'm going to call it my final goodbye, at least state-side, before his formal funeral in Poland in 3 years.  I'm surprised that I miss him, even though it was so hard to connect with him these past 23 years.  I'm surprised that I feel bad for missing him, because not too long ago, I actually prayed that God would take my Dad to stop his deteriorating health and the resulting growing burden on my Mom.  

There wasn't much there in terms of a relationship, but still he clearly held a big part in my life and heart.  It's thanks to him that I live in the US, and therefore it's thanks to him that I met Oscar, and therefore it's thanks to him that I have my two wonderful children.  I wish I could've been closer to him.  

I'm glad that we were on good terms 23 years ago, right before his accident.  I had joined the Army the year prior, making him very proud of me.  And I'm glad that I told him thank you for all he's done for me about a year and a half ago, when he and my mom were at our house for Wigilia. And I'm glad that just this year, I started saying "I love you" to him, and sometimes he'd say it back to me.  

Therefore, I have no regrets.  I did what I could with what I had to work with.  Now, the only left for me to do to continue to honor my father is to pray for him, and be there when he is laid to rest with his beloved Mom.

Funny Thing About Gender Roles in the Church

Back when I identified as a feminist, I lamented the lack of women priests, and I celebrated whenever I saw girl altar servers.

Now that I've regained my senses and realized I cannot go through life with a world view based on anger (my feminist motto was: "If you're not angry, you're not paying attention!"), I have noticed something quite different.

When I see girls and women veiling for Mass or Divine Liturgy, for a split second I feel for the boys and men. They don't have some special way to distinguish themselves between the mundane and divine atmosphere. And then in those same environments, I see all-male altar servers and priests, and I think, ah, there's the balance.  It's not a person-to-person balance, but rather a balance between the genders as a whole.  While not every boy or man is called to serve at the altar in vestments, every girl and woman can veil, without any special training or permission.

It seems like such a small and inconsequential comparison, and yet I've caught myself several times thinking we females have an advantage because we are called to veil before the throne of God to demarcate our very selves, our bodies as holy temples of God.  Now, men's and boys' bodies are also temples of God, yet they aren't called to this additional layer of reminder.  They have to just remember it some other way.  

It's funny how when you turn your will over to God, God will find a way to comfort you and make you feel special just as you are.

What "Church" Did Jesus Start?

Ask a Catholic, and they will tell you it's the Catholic church that we read about Jesus starting in the Gospels. Ask an Eastern Orthodox, and they will tell you Orthodox Christianity is the original church.  Ask a Protestant, and they will likely say that all Christian believers together make up the body of Christ, and so "church" is just a metaphor for the loose conglomerate of believers.  Oh, and it doesn't include a bunch of "sects" that have the wrong interpretation of Jesus's teachings.

I've given up trying to determine the answer because I keep asking humans, and these humans keep pointing to themselves.  There's no objective way to determine which understanding and interpretation is correct.  But I do wonder sometimes....

If I asked Jesus, what would He say is this "church" that He started?  What is it, first of all, and where can I find it?  Is it something I can belong to?  Is it something I can be a part of?  Is it something that has a visible aspect to it?  Is it something that changes over time?  

I think the Protestant view of church is probably the closest to what Jesus had in mind, BUT unfortunately they seem to have thrown out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  Most (not all) Protestants have gotten rid of the liturgy, the manner in which we worship God, and this in turn has created a new kind of question: what is worship?

Word association... and.... go!

Saying good things about God, praising Him, and singing these things to Him; joyful, humble, reverent, awe-inspiring; obedient, open, listening; surrounded by/reminded of God's great power in nature & history; offering sacrifices of our time, talent, treasure, and our very bodies and lives; lavishing onto God all the things we pour into other areas of our life (time, treasure, talent) but much more and only as a starting point! 

And then being inspired through this corporate and corporal worship, we carry the gospel in our hearts and live it out in our day-to-day life.  If we fail to do this last part, then can we really say that what we did on Sunday was "worship" God?  Or did we just "humor" Him with our presence?

Now we can maybe circle back: what is Christ's church?  Any group of people gathered to worship God.  

For those who think only one denomination is "Christ's 'true' Church", think about how there are multiple buildings and fellowships that meet in different places and at different times, yet they share in common a certain creed, liturgy or service style, and moral teachings.  Now, if we draw the line here and not at the person of Jesus Christ, we have cut ourselves off from the real one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church that Christ started, because we have drawn the line at human innovations (the creed is a human articulation of what Christians "should" believe, the liturgy/service is a set of human rituals and traditions, and moral teachings may or may not actual originate with Jesus, depending on their interpretation.

Jesus taught that He was the Messiah, the Son of God.  He taught that He had the power to forgive sins, and He demonstrated His ability to perform miracles.  Therefore, if we are to belong to Christ, we must believe in these things.  If we do, we fulfill the credal part of Church membership.

Jesus taught us to worship the Father in spirit and in truth, not to merely "worship" Him with our lips but fail to hold Him in our hearts.  He participated in the communal worship of the synagogue, the cultural context of what was available at the time, one might say.  He likewise spent a lot of time in prayer alone, in nature.  He spoke openly about God and God's kingdom, never separating the Gospel from the concerns of daily life.  So Jesus showed us a continuation of corporate and corporal worship of the temple and the daily worship of the heart that is inspired and strengthened for the week each Sabbath.

Therefore, if we are to belong to Christ, we must likewise belong to a corporate group of believers that meets regularly to study Scripture and pray prescribed prayers, sing psalms, and be prepared for the week ahead.  This can be fulfilled by many different denominations, but not necessarily every church within any particular denomination.  It's really a case-by-case basis.  But bottom line, get your butt into church, and judge if it's the right place for you by the fruits it has in your life.

Finally, Jesus demonstrated a certain life of virtue.  Not just by what He Himself did and did not do, but also the virtues He praised in His parables, and the ways He admonished sinners.  Therefore, if we are to belong to Christ, we must model our own lives according to what He held in high esteem.

Jesus started His church in the hearts of His apostles and disciples.  He lives within us and He is what unites us.  There is no such thing as a church governing body that magically serves to unite us to each other.  These have been proven time and again to be broken up.  They excommunicate each other.  They split from each other.  They call each other apostates, schismatics, heretics.  They hold up their own interpretations and traditions over the unifying teachings and example and person of Jesus Christ.  So they are not the church of Christ.

The church of Jesus Christ is not a denomination.  It is not a human organization based in religion.  It is not the Catholic church or the Orthodox church.  It is any and every individual believe who centers their life on the person of Jesus Christ.  The details of how exactly they do so are irrelevant.  The church of Christ consists of some Catholics, some Orthodox, and some Protestants, but not all of any of them.  On any given Sunday, there may be followers of Christ and imposters worshipping side by side - the former worshipping the One True and Triune God, and the latter worshipping Idols of their own making.  Christ's church is made of the true believers in all of the human churches (denominations).  

If I'm being honest, I have to say that I see bits and pieces of truth in different denominations, and the reason I've struggled with finding the perfect church was because I thought it was something I could find in a tangible way.  I thought I could become a member of it by some human rite, but the way I become a member of the church of Christ is by declaring faith in Him, repenting, and being baptized.  After that, I follow Him, and in the following, I work out my salvation.  In the following, I worship God the best way I know how.  In the following, I pick a church and stick to it for however long it feeds me spiritually, but I do not commit to it over my commitment to follow Christ wherever He leads me.

Jesus said that foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has no where to lay His head (Matthew 8:20).  Likewise, His followers cannot expect comfort as a condition of discipleship. Feeling certain of my denomination's "truth" over all others would provide the sort of comfort that Jesus does not offer.  He gives peace, but not peace as the world give it (John 14:27).  My peace cannot come in human approval from my in-group.  My peace must come in trusting that following Jesus means being ridiculed by Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants alike.

Protestants, because I value Oral Tradition (not just sola scriptura) and the Eucharist and Our Lady, and that I believe in working out my own salvation (not in being saved "by faith alone").  

Orthodox because I value the Magisterium of the church and appreciate the Catechism, and because my style of worship and prayer includes unleavened bread and the Rosary.  

Catholic because I value the way the Orthodox approach theosis, that they commune all their faithful starting with infants, and that their Divine Liturgy is joyful rather than somber.

I value Bible Study AND the Eucharist.  I value joyful praise and worship AND chant for church music.  I value repentance on the knees AND the sacrament of confession.  I value liturgy AND solid preaching.  I value head coverings AND arms raised in praise.  I value any embodied expression of faith that will bring me closer to Jesus, Whom I follow for my salvation.

Processing My Dad's Death

For 23 years my dad's disability and the resulting strain this has caused for my mom have been a constant in the back of my mind.  In recent years, his worsening condition added the specific worry regarding how to get him into a nursing home, how to pay for it and how to physically convince him to go, and how to ensure that the staff will keep him from escaping.  

My mom has carried the brunt of the whole situation by virtue of being his wife, his caretaker, and his guardian ad litem. I was left feeling helpless to help either of them, and therefore feeling like I could never be a good enough daughter.

What's more, I felt guilty also for having expectations of my mom that had to regularly be revisited in light of the fact that what she's had to deal with on a daily basis meant her bandwidth just did not leave room for what by comparison were my petty desires.

The situation, the limitations, the guilt - it all became a part of the way I see myself, my identity.

And then my dad dies out of nowhere, and while thanks be to God my mom has been blessed with a very positive attitude, I have been blindsided and a bit shell shocked.  

I think I'm done crying on a daily basis about losing my dad, and to be perfectly honest, his loss does not affect my day-to-day life.  It's my mother who now has an entirely new life to build for herself. Yet nonetheless I still feel as though I have unfinished business regarding my dad.

I don't feel much regret.  A couple years ago, the only time my parents came to our house for Christmas Eve, I thanked my dad for bringing us to the US.  In the last year or so, I had started to tell him "I love you" (it's not something we grew up with, so it took intentional effort).  And whenever I visited, which I tried to do every month, I made a point to try to have a conversation with him (very difficult with his aphasia), or better yet, try to teach him to read again or just read what he used to type up on the computer, or most recently, play a game of chess or Uno or Jenga. 

 Mostly, though, he'd just join us for a meal, bring the kids a bunch of goodies he had collected since our last visit, and then went to watch his shows while my mom and I talked.  Sometimes he'd join us just to listen to us talk, and sometimes he'd chime in and I'd hope my mom could explain what he was trying to say.

Yet I still feel this constant reminder of "my dad will need a nursing home, we need to figure something out to help my mom" and then I think, "oh, no he doesn't and no we don't.  Not anymore."  And then even though this is a good thing, it makes me sad because it's a change.  I don't remember what it's like to live without having a disabled father. Even if I do think back to 23 years ago, before his accident, I was only 20 years old.  And I was an immature 20.  I didn't think much about my dad one way or another back then.  

I guess if I had to guess, I'd say that before he became "my disabled dad", he was "my dad who brought me to this country".  Perhaps I can go back to that.  That's a bittersweet thought, but I've had a lot more time to process my immigration losses, and I've incorporated these into my identity, and I am grateful to be living where I live and I have no desire to move back to Poland.

Ok, so let's role play a little here.

Hello. My name is Karolina.  I was born in Poland.  My father brought my mom and me to the US when I was 8 years old.  I'm Catholic and multilingual.  I'm happily married for 19 years and we have two spectacular children whom I homeschool.  I attend CR for mommy issues. Last year I was diagnosed with autism, and my mother-in-law moved in with us the week before my dad died.  That's my life in a nutshell.

I no longer have to worry about finding a nursing home for my dad.  I no longer have to worry about financing a nursing home for my dad.  I no longer have to worry about my mom continuing to care for my dad.  I no longer have to worry about my mom making ends meet.  I no longer have to worry about my parents.  I no longer have to worry about my mom.  I no longer have to worry. I'm free, just as my dad is free, and just as my mom is free.  We have all been released from this 23-year sentence, which I pray to God counts as their purgatory time (Catholics will know what I mean).

I don't have a disabled dad anymore.  I don't have an aphasic dad anymore.  I no longer have a dad who is a bad patient.  I no longer have to feel torn between being sympathetic to my dad versus my mom.  Those chains have been released.  We have all been set free.  Each of us headed into a different great unknown.  

Is the Eucharist an Idol?

Has the Eucharist become an Idol for Catholics, especially (and ironically) the most devout, pious, or traditional Catholics?

In recent weeks I have read or watched videos about a lot of discussion about the proper attitude and behavior and dress when in the presence of Jesus within the Eucharist.  Rules upon rules, rituals meant to drive the point home about Jesus's Real Presence.  

But really, what I'm noticing the most is the legalization of who "gets" to receive the Eucharist when Jesus never made it about exclusivity.  He simply said, "take and eat... take and drink... do this in remembrance of me" (Matthew 26:26). And elsewhere He said "Leave the children alone, and do not forbid them to come to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these" (Matthew 19:14). 

But then the Catholic church intervenes and starts to put limitations and restrictions on who can actually follow this command of Jesus to receive Him Eucharistically.  It creates rules where Jesus had none.  It acts as if it knows better than the Savior Himself.  It says: you must be in a state of grace; you must share the faith with the church; you must be able to grasp the previous two.  In effect, the majority of Catholics are automatically excommunicated from the moment they are baptized as infants until they are at least 7 (and in years past, even as late as 12!). 

To prevent someone with the faith of a child, someone innocent of any mortal sin (due not having yet reached the age of reason), someone who is far more predisposed to receive Jesus than any adolescent or adult is to interfere with that someone's salvation.  You are preventing them from eating the Heavenly Bread, and you are preventing them from following the command of Jesus found in Matthew 26:26.  You are positioning yourself as knowing better than Jesus at worst, or at best, you are presuming that Jesus needs clarification on this when in fact He does not.  He was met with the response of shock and rejection from some of his disciples, yet He did not see a need to clarify.  His words as recorded in Scripture are sufficient, according to Him.  

So yes, I'm angry that my children first were prevented from receiving the Eucharist for an arbitrary number of years, and then the environment of casualness and irreverence further solidifies their inability to actually grasp the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.

All this is done to supposedly ensure proper respect and reverence for Our Lord, yet really, it's reverence to the Eucharist-as-Idol, not to Jesus Christ, the Son of God Who walked the Earth and Whose teachings are recorded in Scripture.

Worship versus Going through the Motions

Going to church regularly is a start.

Having a daily "prayer rule" is a start.

Reading spiritual books and watching spiritual videos is a start.

It is not enough.

To follow Jesus is not merely to learn about Him, to mingle with others who know about Him, and to call it a day.  To follow Jesus means to allow Him to change us.  And for that to happen, we must spend 1:1 time with Him.  

To start, during our prayer time, we must allow time to listen in silence, not merely to recite prayers, both scripted and from the heart.  We must listen for that still, small voice as well.

When going to church, choice of church does matter.  Will we be able to pray while there?  Or are we just going to learn about Jesus and mingle with others who know Him?  If we can use this opportunity to again listen to God speaking to our hearts, then the church is a help on our journey.

We should read and watch spiritual content, but we shouldn't become addicted to media consumption.  We must pause and ask ourselves, how can this apply to my life?  What is the Lord telling me through this message?  

Everything we do in the spiritual life must return us again and again to a humble place of listening for the voice of God.  

Fasting done for its own sake is not a spiritual practice.  But if we can use our hunger cues to turn our thoughts to God and our needy neighbor, then it is.

Charitable giving for its own sake is not a spiritual practice.  But discerning where to give and how much, and doing so generously and even sacrificially, and then coupling it with prayer is.

If we are to imitate Christ, we must continually learn about Him, yes.  And to do so, we must put ourselves in the vicinity of those who know more about Him than we do.  Hence, church.  Hence, spiritual content. But then we must balance that out with a time of reflection, of allowing what we've learned to get processed so that in the final stage, we can apply it to our daily life.  Only then do all the preceding stages count as worship of God, for we were preparing all along to do God's will.

Finding "the Church of Christ"

If religion is like marriage, you make a commitment and you stick with it for life.  

If religion is like marriage, you discern a) if it is for you, and then if so, b) which one?

If religion is like marriage, then it is not a matter of "truth" but choice and preference.

If that's the case, then I have chosen that indeed, religion, and Christianity specifically, is a worldview I choose to live through.  I suppose one could make a case for an analogy with "an arranged marriage", since I was baptized at six weeks old into the Catholic church, and that's what I grew up with.  

So one way or another, I've made this commitment, especially at age 14 when I was confirmed into the Catholic church.  I remember thinking, "what else would I be?" But that was before religion became an autistic special interest of mine. Anyway, regardless how I got here, I'm Catholic now, and since I cannot wrap my head around the idea of discerning which of the Christian denominations is "the" correct one (because, I believe this is a false question).

At the present time, I believe the truth Jesus taught has been buried under tons of human innovations, even those that come down to us from ancient times.  Ancient liturgies are nonetheless liturgies that were created by human beings.  Jesus did not instruct us on any specific liturgy.  

He said to worship God "in spirit and in truth".  

He said to "repent, be baptized, pick up your cross, and follow" Him.

He said to "take and eat.... take and drink... do this in remembrance of me" when He instituted the Eucharist.

He taught us to address God as "Our Father" and gave us the Lord's Prayer as an example of how we ought to turn to God.

He told us to go to our inner room and close the door and pray in secret, so as not to boast.

He told us to fast without making it obvious that we are fasting.

He said He is the vine, His followers are the branches, and that we are to remain in Him in like manner.

He said He is the way, the truth, and the life.  

He said to love one another as He has loved us, and we do so by keeping His commandments.

He told His apostles to travel the world and preach the message He taught them.

Jesus's apostles were tasked with the minutiae of "how" to carry on the faith and teach the Gospel.  This is where the disagreements start.  People think they know best how to interpret Jesus's commission.  And so many of us have fallen prey to equating the teachings of the early followers of Jesus as one and the same as the actual teachings of Jesus.

Surely Jesus must have known this would happen, and yet he nonetheless didn't leave a written record of what or how to teach.  Either it doesn't matter which of the countless denominations we follow, so long as they are centered on the person of Jesus Christ, or this is like a real-life "parable" where Jesus teaches the crowds in parables but reserves the explanations only to those who seek Him out and ask about it.  If that's the case, then we have personal revelation back on the table as the second half of God's revelation to us, the first half being universal revelation of nature.  The in-between, the smallest bit is the group/third-party revelation that we have in the New Testament.

But even among those who preach and teach about Jesus, we still find pretty simple, vague admonitions:

James 1:27: "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." (This last part can definitely be discussed at length.)

Acts 10:35: "But in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him."

Ecclesiastes 12:13: "Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man."

Note the absence of instructions for church attendance, participation at Mass, one liturgy over another... basically all the details are left up to the individuals to discern on their own.  The believer must develop a relationship with Christ in order to gain those answers.  There are no rote answers that come down blanket style from "the church of Christ".  The church is not Christ.  The church is us, His body.

That doesn't mean the whole of the Gospel is just "Jesus and I".  We do have to do it in community.  We interact with other believers.  We share our talents.  We gather to "break bread" (table fellowship in the manner of Jesus) and to hear Scriptures.  To sing and pray together, and to help each other.  If these things are happening, then the Christian gathering is valid, licit, beneficial, and blessed.  To suggest otherwise is to split hairs and prioritize human traditions over the teachings and example of Jesus.

Lessons from 23 years of Disability

I feel terrible for thinking of my dad as a burden, but it's not so much that "he" was a burden as "his condition/the circumstances" following his accident.  It's not his fault that the last 23 years were burdensome on my mom.  So it's not an insult to him to say so.  

But the truth is, while the consequences for him personally were his injury and the resulting life experiences and limitations, the consequences for my mom (also not her fault) were having to rise to the occasion and take over finances, which she did a superb job with, starting with paying off my dad's debts and then going on to live a simple yet comfortable life for both of them, and saving large amounts of money to give to their children over the years, and contributing to charity on a regular basis.  

It was one of those situations where there's no clear victor, if you will.  The only enemy was the situation that caused 23 years of purgatory on Earth for both my parents.  It was not fair that my dad felt like a burden on my mom, and it was not fair that my mom had to  take on the role of caretaker of an unwilling party.

My role as an outsider was of mere observer.  I couldn't make it better for either of them.  Perhaps the point was to realize that control is not in our hands?  Perhaps the point was to trust God through difficult circumstances?

Because let's be honest.  Turning this situation into a blame game is missing the opportunity to embrace and carry the cross given our family.  My mom of course did all the heavy lifting.  Us children basically only "suffered" the inability to have both of our parents fully to ourselves because my mom was overwhelmed with responsibility caring for my dad, and my dad was overwhelmed with his disability.  

It sucked.  It was unfair.  It was unjust.  It was difficult.  It was expensive.  It was isolating.  It was .... the reason I was able to get out of the Army when I did.  It was also a way for us to experience living with my dad's disability so that when his time finally came to go home to his Maker, we could appreciate the blessing that death can actually be.  It was an imperfect extension of life that allowed my children to have a memory of having a grandfather.  And it was a reminder that we are not in control.

How can we live a life of meaning and purpose and fulfilment knowing we are ultimately not in control?  There is only trust in God.  Trust in God is our saving grace.  

The Role of Beauty (and Goodness, and Truth) in Worship

Beauty does motivate us to turn our hearts and minds to God.  That doesn't mean beauty is necessary, but if at all possible, it ought to be part of the equation.  There should be no reason to leave to chance what can be secured by a presence of beauty.

When it comes to liturgy, whenever possible, it should be beautiful.  Beautiful interior, beautiful music, beautiful dress of the clergy and faithful.  But just as with everything else, we don't want to let the beauty become an idol in itself.  

We don't want to go to church merely because it is beautiful.  As Lao Tsu says, "beautiful words are not always true, and true words are not always beautiful."  If we consider just the words - a homily may very well use "beautiful" words, words that are easy to digest, pleasant to hear... but will they change us from within?  Will they challenge us to grow in our faith?  Will they make us better, saints?

So too, there can be a beautiful interior that is merely a museum, where the gospel is not preached, where people, if they do raise their thoughts to God, do so in spite of the surroundings, not necessarily because of them.  Beauty is indeed needed.  But it's not everything.

Goodness is something that I find very attractive when observing someone expressing virtue.  When I see someone do the right thing, especially when facing ridicule, I am attracted to them.  I want to spend time in their presence.  I want their goodness to rub off on me.  I want to surround myself with people who will inspire me to be better.  

And so it is important to me how people dress and behave in church.  It is important to me what the priest preaches during the homily.  No, I don't want fire and brimstone, but I don't want empty placations either. 

Truth is the trickiest of them all.  Truth in our society is completely relative now.  The majority of people seem to not believe in anything outside of personal truth.  What's true for me may not be true for you.  And so we have gender confusion.  We have the calling of virtue vice, and vice being held up as virtue.  This is madness, and I cannot be in a church environment where this is allowed to go on. 

For me, truth starts with biological facts.  There are women and there are men.  And there are those who are confused about their identity, who clearly need to fix their identity firmly in Jesus.  Of course, there are intersex individuals, but these are a small subgroup of people whose cross to bear is this unique birth defect.  There is nothing normal about birth defects.  By their very nature, they are not desirable.  They do not make the person with the birth defect undesirable. It's just the birth defect that is out of place.  We cannot hang our entire identity on a single happenstance like a birth defect, or any other circumstance that is beyond our control. But I digress.

Another truth is what is good and bad to do.  Hurting people is bad.  Helping people is good.  Enabling people is not helping them.  Tolerating people is not helping them.  Telling people what they want to hear even when it isn't true is not helping them.  There are things that God calls us to that are difficult but good - both for us and our fellow human beings.  We need to be reminded of these things often from the pulpit, so that we do not allow society at large to dictate our worldview.  We cannot have the pulpit parrot back to us what our favorite podcasts, social media platforms, or news outlets are telling us.  The church must stand against the grain and focus on Jesus, His teaching, His example.  I will not accept anything less from a church.

But what this means is that there may be times in my life where the choice is between a church that is pleasant, fun, comfortable, familiar, but in no way instrumental in growing my faith or that of my children, and choosing a church that may not necessarily check off all the boxes of my personal preferences, but that is based in truth, preaches goodness, and is beautiful in at least some small way.  Maybe the beauty is in the interior of the church only.  Or maybe it's only in the music.  Maybe it's in the silence.  Maybe it's in the ritual expressions of the liturgy.  Maybe it's in the way my children choose to dress up for this church but not others.  Maybe it's in the manner in which we humble ourselves before God in order to receive Christ in the Eucharist.  Maybe it's in the effort we put forth to get there on time.  Maybe the beauty is in the community formed around this meeting time and place.  Maybe there's some other beauty that is like a pearl of great price... maybe the only beautiful thing about the better choice church is that it is faithful to the Gospel.  Maybe the beauty is in its consistency.

I have to reorient myself away from an expectation of being entertained, of enjoying myself, and remind myself what worship is all about.  It's not about enjoying some good Christian music.  It's not about satisfying my autistic need for ritual repetition, either, though.  Worship is not at all about me.  It's about God and that means that I may not necessarily enjoy it on the surface at first.

I have to find myself grounded in Jesus first and foremost, not in a particular church expression of His Gospel.  That means I am principally responsible for a daily, even hourly turning of my heart and mind to God.  That is not the responsibility of my church.

You do the best you can with what you've got, and you don't cry about it.  I have to remember that when choosing between less-than-perfect church options.  Be grateful I have the freedom to go to church at all.  Be grateful I have choices of any kind.  Be grateful.  Always be grateful.  Amen.