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.

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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)

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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.

Choosing a Church, and Then What?

 What is the Mass for?  Why do we go?

1. to worship God

2. to pray

3. to commune with God/Christ

4. To be reminded we are loved and that our identity is in Christ

5. To be inspired, motivated, and convicted to apply Christ's teachings to our life

Litmus test for choosing which church to attend and raise our children in: how well does it deliver on these five points?

1. What does worship look like?  Is it oriented towards God?  Are we in a position of humility before God?  Are we in a state of awe before God?

2. Are we able to pray here?  Or are we distracted by what's going on around us?  Do we have enough time to enter into prayer without expectation of doing the next thing?

3. In what way do we commune with God? Are we able to prepare for it?  Do we feel a part of a community together communing with God?  What does it feel like to be in God's presence?  Is that communing with God?

4. Does the atmosphere remind us who we are? (Loved children of God who rebel against Him through our sins.) Does the preaching do this?  Do the other parishioners?

5. Do the homilies and practices of the church encourage me to repent and believe?  Do they challenge me to grow in my faith and walk with Christ?  Can I taste just enough heaven on Earth to want to work towards being there in eternity?

What else should my walk with Christ include, other than a faithful church community?

1. Daily prayer.  The habit of prayer.  Time set aside to pray.  A place conducive to prayer.  Bringing questions and concerns to the Lord.

2. Scripture study.  Daily reading of the Bible.  An ongoing exploration of Jesus' teaching and example, so as to discern best course of action.

3. Silent reflection.  Just sitting in the presence of the Lord, in nature or Adoration or on retreat.  Waiting and listening for the Lord to speak.  Ready to journal when He does.

4. Habit of fasting.  Making room for God.  Training my will to submit to God.  Uniting myself with those who have no choice but to fast.  Growing thereby in charity and generosity.

5. Acts of charity.  Almsgiving.  Biting my tongue.  Offering assistance.  Listening.  Observing to watch for needs that arise.  Seek ways to serve Christ in others.

Does the TLM point to Orthodoxy?

 As I ask questions of the TLM crowd online, I'm being referred to the way things were prior to Vatican 2, and I'm unearthing more and more similarities between the Orthodox and Catholic churches in this way.  It is making me see just how it really was One, Holy, Universal, and Apostolic church.  I think the use of the word "Catholic" in the creed is rather unfortunate, as it is currently associated with the Roman Catholic Church, and not with the intended universality of the church.

Speaking of universality, though... I'm also noticing how many differences there are from diocese to diocese, between countries, etc.  Certain feasts are celebrated on different days depending on country.  Bishops decide for their own diocese if the Tridentine Mass will be available.  These are just two recent examples.  And immediately I start to wonder... what about universality?  

Then I think of the Novus Ordo Mass, celebrated in the vernacular, and how I've attended Mass in Poland and the US, and it really is a different experience.  Even from parish to parish within the US, with the level of freedom each pastor has to implement different features of the NO Mass in different ways, it can be a quiet, reflective experience, or a rowdy, festive experience.  The music can be different.  The interior of the church can be very different.  The length, style, and content of the homily can be very different.  It's basically anyone's guess what Mass will look like on any given Sunday, in any given Novus Ordo church.

And again I ask myself, what about that universality?  Does having a Pope and a Catechism really provide that universality?  What is universality, anyway, when it comes to the Christian Church?  Is it about aesthetics?  Faith? Practices? Morals? All of the above?

And I am reminded of the Orthodox church.  I think of how they have managed to stay much more in line with both ancient expressions of Divine Liturgy and modern expressions of DL from church to church, all without the presence of a "unifying" head or catechism.  How is that even possible?  They have always used the local language in their worship, and yet there are enough embodied elements that are not verbal that express that universality.  There can only be one explanation for that: the head of the Orthodox church is Christ Himself.

But why hasn't the Orthodox church called any councils since the Great Schism?  Rome claims it's because they need the Bishop of Rome (aka the Pope) to do so.  But does calling a council necessarily make it valid?  What if the Orthodox are communicating that there cannot be further councils unless and until East and West are reunited into the one original Christian church?  What if they are being honest and humble about what they can and cannot do on their own, without that one original patriarchate (Rome) that broke away from the ancient church? 

What if it's not at all evidence of their not being the original church, but rather the opposite?  What if the fact that Rome continues to call councils as if the Great Schism was of no consequence is actually nothing to boast about?  What if it's essentially arrogant to claim that they are the one, true church with or without the East?  The East likewise claims to be maintaining the Tradition and beliefs and practices of the ancient church from before the split, but perhaps by their not calling further councils, they are pointing to the very deep wound that was created when Rome left their unity?

Maybe we've been looking at it all wrong.  Maybe it's not a matter of if East left West or if West left East, if it was the Orthodox church that split from the Catholic church or vice versa, but rather that the two split from something that was united and that something therefore no longer exists.

Maybe their reunification is precisely what will signal the end times, when Christ's original, ancient, one, holy, universal, and apostolic church once more exists as it once did.

Nostalgia, Reverence, Piety, Preference, Truth?

I guess when you are convinced there is such a thing as a religious organization's perfect or near-perfect explanation and embodiment of spiritual Truth, it becomes much easier to discern where you ought to worship and belong.  

But when you are convinced that Truth is completely elusive to any single human endeavor, the standard arguments for or against any one expression of said Truth become obsolete.  

Instead, you need to rely on your own personal relationship with God.  Where does God want you to be, for whatever reason?  Maybe it will be life-long, maybe not.  But for where you are in life now, where is God calling you to follow Him?

For me, years of research and contemplation have helped me narrow down my choices to within Christianity.  At least there's that.  Furthermore, I've also eliminated Protestant denominations due to the fact that once they started protesting, there has been no end to the protests.

Let's ponder this a bit more.  Why have I eliminated Protestantism?  First to go were fundamentalists and evangelicals.  They're understanding and focus on the wrath of God against non-Christians simply doesn't jive with my understanding of a loving and merciful Father of all creation.

But what about mainline Protestants?  They're much more subdued.  They don't preach hellfire and brimstone.  Why not them?  

I've been to Anglican, Lutheran, Baptist, etc churches.  I can't for the world of me figure out what exactly separates them?  It seems every time there's a disagreement about a factor of faith or practice, there's been a split.  And so, you just never know if the church you join will split again while you're there, and you'll be forced to choose sides.  

I had been attending what I thought was an Episcopalian church for about 5 months when I found out that they had recently split from the Anglican church, and the particular parish I was attending chose the more conservative Anglican side of things, but mislabeled themselves as Episcopalian in order to "lead seekers to the truth".... via a blatant lie.  (I literally asked the pastor about this mislabeling, and that is the response I got!)

I have also eliminated Protestant denominations for another reason - aesthetics. And while I know it sounds superficial, it really isn't.  Not when we're talking about an embodied faith.  If whatever is good, and true, and BEAUTIFUL comes from God, then a beautiful aesthetic ought to be our goal whenever we desire to approach God.

Modern aesthetics have been relativized with everything else, unfortunately.  We no longer agree on what is beautiful.  We claim that beauty is "in the eye of the beholder".  But there is only a little bit of truth to that, and what's most important is that our preferences are largely learned!  If we are exposed to a certain interpretation of "beauty", then we will come to only see beauty in that way.  

But if that's the case, then how can anything be objectively beautiful?  It's all in how beauty affects us.  Does it inspire us to do something?  Does it give us a sense of awe?  Does it take us out of the here and now and connect us to something somehow eternal?

Especially in worship, beauty is a crucial component of helping us turn our hearts and minds towards God.  We want to stand in awe before our Creator.  We want to be reminded that God is greater than anything we alone can do.  Enter: liturgy.

Protestant churches that I have attended leave much to be desired in terms of beauty.  The music - if present - is either boring or downright entertainment.  Neither is conducive to inspiration or awe.

And if the interior is plain, as often is the case, that leaves nothing for the imagination.  You're in a secular place, through and through.  Nothing special about this time and place "set aside" for God.

I don't go to church out of obligation.  I don't believe what I'm told to believe just because someone told me to believe it.   There, I've said it. I believe in universal revelation (Taoism/Deism), and I believe in personal revelation (private discernment).  Third party revelation becomes very tricky for me.  There have been various conflicting claims regarding revelation.  It's quite difficult for me to not take such claims with a grain of salt.  

Because I don't feel compelled to allow other people's revelations be binding on myself, I have a different problem; instead of the problem of having to submit my will in obedience to some authority (obviously, I want to submit to God), my problem is having to weigh the various aspects of different options (of a denomination, or church, or liturgy) and decide.

My choices are to choose option A, option B, or to alternate between the two.  For the time being, our go-to has been some variation of option C (alternating between the two).  

Since we already belong to the Catholic church, receiving Holy Communion can be a part of our experience when going there.  On the other hand, while we have to abstain from Communion at the Orthodox church, otherwise we are welcome to participate without any formal conversion.

At one point I was concerned about separating what I considered the more reverent/joyful liturgy (Orthodox) from the reception of the Eucharist in the Catholic church.  I was worried that it would send the wrong message - that the reverence wasn't for the sake of the Eucharist.  But then I started to realize that the Eucharist has become a sort of idol within Catholicism, and perhaps it is not that bad after all if there is that separation.

Jesus did say, take and eat/take and drink .... and we do at Catholic Mass.  And at the Orthodox Divine Liturgy, we get all those other spiritual needs met, become inspired to pursue a relationship with God, and surround ourselves with like-minded (read: similar values) people.

For the time being, this is the best we can offer for our children.  That said, I still want to iron out which Catholic Mass will serve as our alternate Sunday option - some sort of elusive reverent Novus Ordo Mass?  Or a silent Tridentine Low Mass?  Or a sung Tridentine High Mass?  If we are lucky, we may come to love the TLM (high or low or both), and perhaps then we can take the Orthodox DL out of rotation.  But for now, this is the game plan.

What is Reverence?

I realize saying I'm looking for a reverent Mass does not mean I will get recommendations that are aligned with what I'm looking for.  I've been to churches that came recommended, and I had no idea how they were considered any more reverent than any others. So I will have to depend on my own personal criteria, and to do so, I'll need to figure these out first.

I also realize now that I may have been associating the graces God has bestowed on me through certain expressions of the Christian faith via my senses and personal preferences with reverence.

For instance, I have associated kneeling with reverence. But in the Orthodox tradition, kneeling is specifically associated with repentance.  There are times repentance is appropriate, and there are times it is not.  If I associate something with reverence, I'll assume it's always appropriate.

I also have gotten hung up on the host as a physical representation of the Eucharist, and Eucharistic Adoration as a means to grow in faith in Jesus's real presence in the Eucharist. 

But my Orthodox siblings in Christ have pointed out that for the Orthodox Christian, the Eucharist is not a thing unto itself, as it were.  It is a part of a larger whole - the Divine Liturgy itself.  And as such, it is the entire Divine Liturgy that ought to permeate of God's presence.  

And as for practical ways to grow in faith in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, the Orthodox again have reminded me how far our Novus Ordo Mass has fallen from the Tridentine Mass tradition.  Not only is the liturgy itself watered down, but practices surrounding it have likewise fallen by the wayside. 

 Orthodox are instructed to fast from midnight on before receiving Holy Communion.  They are encouraged to go to Confession regularly, and since the parishes tend to be quite small and intimate, there is no getting around the priest noticing if one hasn't been in a while.  

The final tip I got can just as easily be applied to Catholics (and any denomination claiming Jesus is present in their Holy Communion), and that is to practice acts of charity, because if we can see Christ's image in our neighbor, we can much more easily see Christ in the Eucharist/Liturgy.  And here I was actually thinking that believing in the Real Presence was what was to lead people to see Christ in their neighbor.  I had it backwards!  

Perhaps, dare I say it...?  Have Catholics turned the Eucharist into an idol?

I recently heard Catholic Bishop Barron explain how God Himself can be turned into an idol, which blew my mind!  But he explained that basically, if we make God into an image that we have ourselves conjured up, then we have reduced Him to a mere idol.  If we start attributing human frailty and limitations onto God, then we are no longer thinking about God Almighty but a caricature of God.

In that same vein, have we Catholics turned the Eucharist into such an idol?  Yes, Jesus is really present in the bread and wine after the consecration, because He said He would be.  But why did He say to do this in remembrance of Him?

What exactly are we supposed to remember about Jesus when breaking bread and sharing the cup?  Are we merely supposed to cower down before His holy presence?  Did He expect His disciples to do as much?  No!  He expected His disciples to pick up their cross and follow Him.  He told them to gather together, break bread and share a cup, and these would become His body and blood.

The next day, His physical earthly body was indeed broken on the cross, and His physical earthly blood was indeed shed.  The Last Supper is a foretelling of the Crucifixion.  In Catholicism, we believe that the Mass is how we are able to be transported to be present on Calvary.  Of course, with the watering down of the liturgy in the Novus Ordo, I think I've only ever seen one person, a priest, behave as though he were in the presence of Jesus on Calvary.  

In Orthodoxy, the focus of the Divine Liturgy is not on the crucifixion but on the resurrection of Jesus.  I still have to reconcile how the Eucharist fits into this view of the liturgy.  If Divine Liturgy is about Jesus's resurrection, then what was the Last Supper about?  When Jesus said, "take and eat, this is my body given for you" and again, "take and drink, this is my blood poured out for many" - was this pointing to His resurrection?  

In a very real sense, we do have to admit that there would be no resurrection without the crucifixion, but there could very well have been a crucifixion without a resurrection.  So we have to go through the crucifixion, through the consuming of Jesus's body and blood, in order to rise with Him on the other end, victorious. 

A Catholic by Any Other Name... Is Still a Catholic?

It seems I can't even "convert" within Catholicism from Novus Ordo to Tridentine Mass without some level of controversy.  

Apparently, the most hard-core TLMers outright reject the NO as invalid.  Even those who don't often do not embrace various devotions that I'm familiar with, like the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary, or the Divine Mercy Chaplet, or even papal encyclicals like Humanae Vitae (Theology of the Body).

If some would consider my "switching" to TLM as a conversion, even a schism, then what's the difference bw that and "switching" to Orthodoxy?  So really, if the Catholics can't agree among themselves who is "in" and who is "out", they don't agree on the sainthood of Pope JP2, they don't agree on the validity of apparitions, encyclicals, liturgical style, focus of homilies, etc... then where exactly is that "unity" that is supposedly present in the Catholic church?

I mean, if the Pope is supposed to be the glue that holds us together, but there are people who believe they are more Catholic than the Pope.... that sort of begs the question.... maybe there's something other than the person of the Pope, or the office of the papacy, that counts as Christian unity?  Maybe it's as simple as the creed, held in common with Orthodox and Protestant believers (for the most part, filioque notwithstanding).

Personally, I don't have a particular attachment to the Pope or the papacy.  I can go either way on what Jesus meant when He said "on this rock I will build my church" - whether He meant on this Petras (St. Peter) or on the Confession of faith that Peter had just verbalized.  What I find interesting is that in the Creed professed by Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants, we say that we believe in "one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church".  I cannot shake the presence of that word, Catholic.  I know it means universal, but no denomination that I'm aware of has changed it to that synonym.  Almost as if it's beckoning us to return to the fold.

Then again, the creed is one thing, but the Liturgy, the experience of the weekly gathering for worship of the Lord is another.  That is where our faith becomes embodied.  That is where we unite as a group of believers to worship the Lord.  That is where the faith moves from the head (creed) to the heart (body).  So I feel as though I should focus my decision on what is and isn't being focused on in the embodiment of my faith, since the creed is the same.  The details clearly differ within Catholicism, so they're not as consequential as the creed and the liturgy.

It will come down to the style of the Eucharist versus the style of music/lack thereof, I believe.  The overall sense of awe, joy, and reverence of the Divine Liturgy has an incredible pull on my and my family.  On the other hand, the Eucharist in the form of Host and Wine given separately and while kneeling has an equally strong pull on me, perhaps due to nostalgia, perhaps due to my autistic inability to generalize (ie. I don't recognize the Orthodox Eucharist as such because it looks and is distributed differently.)

Conversion Within Catholicism In Progress...

When Lay Eucharistic Ministers became the norm in the Novus Ordo, it became much more difficult to explain why we cannot have female priests.  

When the priest stopped facing ad orientem, the liturgy started to be focused on the charisma of the individual priest rather than him being merely a vessel for Christ's work in His church.

When the vernacular became the norm, the liturgy began to be filled with excessive verbiage, making it nearly impossible to actually pray.  There's hardly any time of silence at all.

When we stopped kneeling at the altar railing to receive Communion on the tongue, the Eucharist stopped being considered sacred.

When taken to its natural conclusion, the Novus Ordo is basically the Catholic Protestant service.  Music, sermon, some vestments, fellowship, communion assembly line, Bible focus (not Eucharist focus), fellowship focus (not sacred silence), explanation (not mystery).

Even the Low TLM is better than the NO Mass because it allows for personal prayer, and it highlights the reverence due to Jesus in the Eucharist.

Is it better than the Orthodoxy Divine Liturgy, though, which seems to always be the equivalent to the Missa Cantata/High Mass.  The reason we love it is that it is reverent and joyful. Silence is reverent, but is it joyful?  Incense, candlelight, and ongoing chanting in a church interior that is beautiful and colorful... can this be found in a local TLM?

What if I'm being asked to let go of the beauty found at the Orthodox Divine Liturgy?  Let go of the chant, the colors, the joy, and instead truly surrender to the weekly opportunity for a prayerful atmosphere.  It's not about all the fixings.  They are nice, but not essential.  Our prayerful attitude and the presence of Our Lord are what is key.  The Novus Ordo does not incline one to a prayerful attitude, so the presence of Our Lord gets lost on us.  And the Orthodox indeed inclines to prayerful attitude, but for me personally, the presence of Our Lord is not really more obvious than in the NO Mass.

What if I trust the Lord about what it is my children and I need in order to be formed in the faith?  To be surrounded by like-minded families and individuals?  What if it's not what I expected or even hoped for?  Am I prepared to accept what the Lord offers instead?  Am I prepared to trust Him?

What if it's enough to dress up and be surrounded by others who are dressed up?  To settle into the silence until our own prayers find the thought-words needed without rushing? To have only a reverent reception of the Eucharist modeled and experienced?

My goal is for my children to take the faith seriously, not to have fun at church, right?