|Photo Source: St. Therese Youth Ministry|
Yesterday two Reformed Christians announced that they had decided to convert to the Catholic Church. It reminded me of my own conversion.
Becoming Catholic or in my case coming back home to the Church is so hard to explain to those who find such horror when they look in the face of the Church. They just do not get it, for whatever reason. For me being Catholic is so rich, so lively. I think of cannoli and ravioli, and red wine, laughter, piazzas, feast days, families (indeed large ones) all held together by the love of the living God made known in the face of Jesus Christ in the power of the Spirit.
Being Catholic is sitting in the family room, praying the Rosary, as your three year old hits his eleven year old brother or one child prays his decade a bit faster. It’s daily mass, sitting with the young and old, who have a simple faith. They really believe that God is there, yes, the Lord of the Universe is there.
It is the 24/7 365 Adoration Chapel, that is even scheduled with the faithful during the Easter Triduum, as men just getting off their shift — still in their work clothes — come to spend an hour before Him who holds all things together. It is the mom, with her six kids at home, who takes that precious hour, when she could go shop or grab some coffee, and sits at the feet of the Master, her Lord, much like Mary of old. It is the old couple, who can barely walk, with shriveled bodies, who come to have some time with the Lord. It is the man, who has buried three kids and then his wife, who in the midst of it all clings to his Lord. It is the mom who, after losing her daughter and then her son, finds consolation for her heart in the Virgin at the Cross who hears the words, “and a sword will pierce your soul.” It is the man watching his father die an agonizing death who sees in this suffering the sufferings of Christ, that nothing, not even the last moments, are wasted, but in some way through this, all things will be made new. It is witnessing the man receive for his last bit of food not the bread of this world, but the bread of the angels. Oh to be Catholic…