Reflections on the "New" Mass

After a few years of hearing about it, and a barrage of really terrible media coverage in recent weeks, the new translation of the Roman Missal was finally rolled out this weekend.

In general, it went exactly as I expected it would. We stumbled over ourselves. The priest tripped over his tongue. We laughed a lot as a congregation. And we left with the same saving graces we always do.

All that said, it'll take a few weeks for me to really soak everything in and make an informed opinion. This past week was hard to judge as the priest at my boyfriend's parish had a thick Polish accent -- I'm looking forward to checking things out at home this coming weekend.

I love the new Confiteor -- the triple "mea culpa" missing was a huge flaw, and it's really great to see it in the English with the beating of our breasts. That moment was very powerful. It goes without saying that I pray I'll never experience that in mortal sin...ha.

The Creed was definitely full of weirdness, but the actual language in concrete and expressive. It's not exactly conversational, but there's tons of meaning packed into it. In fact, that can be said of the entire translation -- very specific and sensory.

I really disliked the use of "it is right and just" instead of "it is right to give Him thanks and praise." Compared to the flow of the rest of the translation, this statement feels clipped and short, like there's something missing.

The only thing that really bothered me though was the change is what used to be "In Your mercy, keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety..."

Now, the priest says "save us from all disasters," which, while relevant, has a completely new meaning. As someone who has previously struggled with anxiety, the old line was always such a huge comfort to me. I'm sad to see it go.

While a lot of people will be scratching their heads for a while -- especially all the C+E Catholics that will show up next month -- I believe the translators accomplished what they set out to do: craft something more faithful and eloquent that lifts our souls to God.

Just don't ask me to like "and with your spirit." Ever. ;)

Thankful

The past week or so has been a whirlwind of people to meet, places to go, and food to consume ... only now do I actually have the time to sit, catch my breath and reflect on it all.

God is so good. The depth of His providence this year especially has blown my mind.

A year ago, I made it a point to build as many emotional walls as I could. I needed to protect myself from that cold, scary world that was waiting after my education was complete. I needed to protect myself from men who could hurt me if I trusted them with my heart. And most of all, I needed to protect myself from ... myself. All of the brokenness, unresolved issues and fear would have to wait until later. 

After graduation as depression and bitterness settled in, He used a slew of family emergencies to help me see that I love my family more than anything; that I need their support to get me through, even when it hurts to admit. I'm holding them all a lot closer this year -- life is too short, too precious, to not appreciate.

He used my new, "grownup" job to teach me that, self-perceptions aside, I'm not a hotshot and I don't know everything. I'm going to make mistakes daily, but also learn from them. The same goes for every area of my life. I'm not perfect, but I get a little stronger every day. That's what counts: that I am always growing and moving forward.

He used Hurricane Irene to teach me about the darkness in my soul. I woke up to the fact that, at the end of this life, I will stand before Him alone. I am completely dependent on His mercy. I finally sought it through that weekend, and since then He has set me free of so much that was weighing me down.

He used the driver's manual that sat for months gathering dust on my desk to motivate me toward independence and conquering my fears. A few weeks ago, I passed my driver's test and got my license, a goal I wasn't sure I'd ever reach. God helps those who help themselves.

Most recently, He's given me an amazing man and used him to teach me so much. I am learning that I am strong. That complete surrender to God, love and vulnerability shows you how to live fully. That intimacy doesn't have to end in sin, use, and brokenness. That joy and hope are daily decisions that accomplish much.

Writing it all out fills me with a humility that's hard to articulate. He gives me more than I could ask for ... and still wants to give me more.

How amazing is that?

On Kirk Cameron, faith and fear

I seldom use this blog as a soap box for venting, but I hope just this once I can be excused. I've been meaning to write about someone extremely popular in the evangelical world.

His name is Kirk Cameron. If you're immediately thinking of the young, sarcastic heartthrob of the 80s sitcom "Growing Pains," you've got the same guy.

During his tenure on the show, Cameron had a radical conversion experience that led him to Christ. Awesome.

His castmates would say years later that Cameron often pushed his new zeal on them, and ties remained strained in several cases, if not broken entirely.

After "Growing Pains" was canceled in 1992, Cameron focused his acting career on Christian films and preaching. First came the post-Rapture "Left Behind" movies, fire-and-brimstone imaginings of what life would be like for the unsaved before the Second Coming of Christ. Hello, sensationalism.

Recently, he starred in "Fireproof," a drama about a broken marriage healed through faith. (Keep your eyes open: I may review it here soon.)

A few years ago, Cameron hooked up with itinerant minister Ray Comfort. The two founded The Way of the Master, a ministry equipping Christians to go out there and WIN SOME SOULS.

Ahem. Let me give you an example of his methods.

Have you ever told a lie? Someone who has told a lie is a liar. And what does the Bible say of liars, you ask? I'll tell you: they're not fit for the Kingdom of God. They go to hell -- just like you will, if you don't accept Jesus right now. Today. What do you choose?

This is The Way of the Master -- Cameron's way -- of telling people about the mercy of Christ. I imagine he's been successful, but have to ask one question: do any of these people come to Jesus because they want to? Because they're ready to be forgiven and loved? Or do they come out of fear?

Unfortunately, I've seen countless people get saved this way, and they either fall away shortly thereafter or continue on with a stunted, warped view of who Jesus is and what our faith is really about.

This way of thinking was pushed on me years ago and I resisted, knowing that I could only embrace Christianity if I did it for me. The friends I keep from those early days were the ones who loved me right then, as I was, paganism and brokenness be damned. That's what He did, after all. Love. Not condemn.

Fear-mongering may be effective, but it's also cruel and damaging. God is waiting to cover us with mercy and dignity, not drop the guillotine.

I just hope those souls Cameron "wins" know that, too.

Samhain Reflections

Every year on Halloween, I can't help but flood my body with as much sugar as possible. It's not only All Hallows Eve, you see, but also the eve of my birthday. A time for celebrating, to be sure.

Yet quiet moments always sober me today, too. Today is Samhain, and there are moments where I can almost feel the Veil paper-thin again. Almost. For a brief moment, standing outside with the wind chilling my bones and the crescent moon overhead, I longed for magick. For that freedom again.

It lasted just long enough for me to get into the car and head to church, kneeling at His feet in thanksgiving for the true liberation I've been given.

It's been a long time now, and those days are well behind me. I said to one of my ex-Pagan friends today that it's amazing how much can change with time, and how healing that distance can be.

Back then, I thought I was taking control of my life by making the Divine my servant, instead of me serving Him. But I, along with so many others, learned the hard way.

Even after years as a Christian, I am still learning every day that this life is not my own. Like it or not, I am not in control. Unless I continue to surrender myself and lay down my life daily, I'll never find peace.

Most days, the pace of my growth is maddeningly slow. "Why can't I just accept it," I ask myself so often. "I wish I could be better than this."

Well, looking back on the person I was in 2005, it's clear today that I am better. I am accepting faith. And I'm growing more with every passing Samhain.

Lessons in Silent Moments

It's hard to fight these feelings when it feels so hard to breathe...

I've had this post sitting in my drafts for three days now, cooking. And I hate that.

For me, writing is not only a career choice but an outlet. I've never been especially eloquent in my speech -- I'm about as casual as it gets -- and thinking too much only tends to exacerbate things. In writing, I can take my feelings, focus them, and then be done with it.

But for the first time in ages, I find myself totally at a loss for words.

But we don't need to rush this...let's just take it slow...

In the past six weeks, I've been thrown on my back by a relationship that is moving much faster emotionally than I could have ever anticipated. It's pretty terrifying, if only because I'm acutely aware that this is not in my hands and never was.

I don't think I've ever been so completely disarmed by anything before...

On day one, not sure what else to do, I surrendered all of this without reserve to God, telling Him to do whatever He needed to do to make this work. Man, I really need to start thinking before I pray that prayer again. ;)

Just a touch of the fire burning so bright, I don't want to mess this thing up, I don't want to push too hard...

This weekend, He needed to teach me a lesson in humility.

Sitting on my boyfriend's bed and playing with a thread unraveling from the bottom of my sock, I was trying not to let the heavy, noisy silence between us drive me crazy.

I kept waiting for him to break it, but no, he wouldn't. He was at the moment a bit too shy. And I was too broody.

Then, God arrested me. I had just thought to myself that I felt entitled to more than what, on that day, he was willing to give.

Everything you have is a gift from Me. You are entitled only to what I've given you, nothing else. And you can either wallow in your selfishness, or be thankful for what's in front of you. What do you choose?

And just like that, my heart changed. In the span of three minutes I learned the true value of holding another person's dignity up over your own expectations ... how precious that is, and how insanely, stupidly lucky I am.

I chose to rest in that: the mind-boggling realization that it is possible to be intimate only on emotional terms. I'm not sure if I quite know how that works yet. But I do know it starts with laying down my pride and caring for someone not because of what they do, per se, but for who they are.

As my friend Peyton put it so eloquently in a text to me on the way back home: "There's something so incredibly beautiful about falling in love with the personhood of another ..."

You know what? I think she's onto something.

Gungor: A Musical Diamond in the Rough

In my last post, I wrote that in many ways, Christian music has worn out its welcome for me. Even Matt Maher’s latest record, Turn Around, came off as a collection of typical worship anthems, with a few exceptions.

The only artist these days who still captivates me is Audrey Assad. This should surprise no one. ;) Her new album is coming out in just a few months, and the few tracks I’ve heard so far have me on the edge of my seat with anticipation. By the way, if you think about it, please pray for her husband, Billy. He was recently diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma.

Anyway. A few weeks ago while listening to Pandora at work, I heard the song “Beautiful Things” by Gungor for the first time. I was struck at first by the rumbling cello in the beginning – I have a real soft spot for strings – and then by the sensitivity in the lead singer’s vocals.

I looked up the band on Spotify, and was blown away by the depth of their lyrics and the real musicianship throughout the entire thing. It makes a lot of sense, though. Michael Gungor grew up leading worship in church as the son of a pastor, and later, he pursued jazz studies in college.

Together with his wife, Lisa, they have managed to put together something so genuine and raw and uninhibited with their music.

On his blog, Michael writes, “This is risky in a culture that promotes singles and 99-cent song downloads.  It’s risky in a culture in which people don’t often sit down and actually critically listen to music very much.  Music has too often become background noise in our culture. It sets a mood, but don’t make me pay much attention to it!”

Gungor requires a deep listen, one with the headphones on and without distraction. First, there’s the variety of instruments you’ll hear: guitar and drums – both are staples of rock and folk music -- but then other things, too. Flute. Cello. Banjo. Even a glockenspiel gets lots of attention in the album, which I think is just awesome. I haven’t heard one of those used in anything but marching band sets.

And after the music washes over you, you’re hit with a lyrical honesty that is very rare these days. The first track, “Dry Bones,” is a haunting, rock-driven cry for renewal in a dead soul. The title track follows, which is a perfect downshift, both in style and tone; it’s about God being able to start with nothing and make something incredible.

One of my favorite tracks is “Late Have I Loved You,” which should immediately ring a bell if you’re up on early Catholicism. St. Augustine wrote a famous passage that begins this way in his Confessions, and the song is a verbatim musical rendition of the passage. Classy!

While it’s true Gungor just released a new album, Ghosts Upon the Earth, on Sept. 20, I really do recommend you check out its predecessor first. Beautiful Things is a journey that will take a while to move on from.

Here are two videos I’d like to share: “Please Be My Strength” is so simple but, again, just honest. And the second, while not on this album, is an incredible testament to Michael’s ability to shred a guitar like no one’s business. ;)

Seriously. Just go buy the album!

A little rant on Christian music

A lot of things move me, all the time. Let's face it: I guess you could say it's just really easy to evoke emotion from me. I'm one of Those People.

And, like many of Those People, music is something I have a very strong affinity for. It was Victor Hugo that said music expresses what we can't find words to, when it's impossible to be silent. I'm a singer and a musician, and having experienced the power music has in binding and impacting people, it's become an adventure seeking out some of the best I can find.

Of course, when it comes to the contemporary Christian music scene, at times the pickings can be depressingly slim. In a lot of ways, if you don't listen closely it can be tempting to say it's all the same. Much like contemporary pop, the same four chords are played over and over by the same guitar. Add in a zealous singer belting out how our God is big, wonderful, holy, and worthy of praise, and you've basically summed up the genre in three minutes.

Bonus points if you add the voices of a few small children singing or speaking relevant Bible verses. Ditto for crowds of joy-filled worshipers raising their voices at the choruses, Kumbaya style. Yawn.

Maybe it has something to do with my past, but worship music like that doesn't do it for me. It's not like I'm seeking after warm fuzzy feelings in my music -- even if I were, the last place I would find it would be in those fluffy little singles.

The Christian music I do listen to speaks of a faith that has been through the wringer, torn to shreds and even extinguished for a time, like mine has been. But in the end, there's a recurring theme that despite those times, we're stronger, and God has used those seasons to give us a deeper appreciation of what He can use for our good.

When I have some spare time, I'm going to share a review of an album that I believe is a diamond in a whole lot of rough. Stay tuned.

No Offense

You know, there's something I've always found a little bit strange about practicing my faith: people treat me differently.

And no, I don't mean differently in the sense of persecution, though I admit that has happened to me plenty of times before.

What I mean is that a lot of times, people who are otherwise not religious will walk on eggshells around me.

For example, a friend of mine from undergrad once used a hefty expletive while talking to me over Facebook. Immediately afterward, she wrote, "Oh, excuse my language. I know you're religious."

I'm fairly certain that she was being genuine, and that her comment wasn't meant to be sarcastic. Feeling a little confused, I laughed and said, "What? Why apologize? Do you think my ears are going to bleed or something?"

"Well, no," she told me. "I just don't want to offend."

Oh, please. Spare me.

And just the other day, another friend wrote, "I swear like a sailor, except around..." another one of her friends, who I know is a proud and outspoken evangelical.

Attitudes like this blow my mind, not necessarily out of shock, but confusion. Have we suddenly turned into china dolls because of our faith?

When people say things like that, it proves that they don't really know me at all. Yes, I do swear. Yes, I am working on that. But half the time it's a wonderful literary device. ;) The funny thing is that if, in a rare moment I do let a word slip, some people will gasp and say, "Oh! I can't believe you just said that!"

I am no saint. In fact, I'm very far from, and I have no desire to show a forced, perfect facade to the world -- that time of my faith is long gone, thank God. More than anything else, those comments are just condescending. You don't see me gasping and clutching a rosary every time someone swears in front of me, after all.

I suppose that it makes people feel better about themselves if thy can "clean up" around supposed "religious people." In some ways, I can almost understand it -- I used to act the same way around priests, just because of who they are.

What I learned, to my great delight -- and what I wish people would learn when speaking to Christians -- is that we're really all the same. We all fall, and we're all broken. It's the human condition, and I think we'd be much better off if we stopped pretending to care and actually, you know, caring.

Instead of worrying about offending me, try worrying about offending God.

Life is an adventure...

On the bright side, I'm now the girlfriend of a ... physicist?

Don't ask me how that happened, because I'm still trying to figure it out. Ha!

Relationships have always been a serious thing for me, but have become even more so since my reversion because I am reasonably certain this is my vocation. Every time I start over, the question lingers in the back of my head, "So, is this what I've been looking for?"

It's probably that same question that leaves me feeling extremely reluctant to get involved at all. As much as I want commitment, comfort, security -- hell, even a family -- the incredible risks I have to take to get there can be overwhelming.

You might remember that immediately after graduation, I made a very brief reference to a budding relationship I wasn't ready for. At the time, the gentleman in question was leaving the place we both called home to pursue grad school, and I was adjusting to my new job, being back at home, and so on. Add to that the endless family emergencies at the beginning of summer, and all I wanted to do was be alone.

So I told him that as sweet as he was, we should just be friends, and sent him off to New York.

And damn me, weeks later, I started to miss him. So typical.

Though, by then I figured that I had lost my chance. Feeling sad and foolish, I left it all in God's hands and told Him to show me what He wanted.

Literally 18 hours after I said that prayer, my friend asked me out of the blue where I stood with him: if I still wanted to remain friends, or move forward as a couple. He needed me to make a decision.

While I still wasn't sure of what I wanted and had many fears about where this could lead, B wisely reminded me that sometimes, all we can do is take a deep breath and leap. My confessor believes God used him in that moment to force me out of indecision and into doing something for once. I think he's right.

So I'm taking this chance. I've learned a lot in the last two years ... that time was necessary to rebuild myself and figure out where I stood with God. But now, I'm finally ready to move forward.

God is good.

God in the Dark

A few weeks ago, my parents and I planned a trip to Maryland to visit family. But as Hurricane Irene grew bigger and more daunting, we found there was no other choice but to cancel.

In the weeks leading up to that trip, I started to lose my footing again spiritually. I knew that I needed to get my act together, but apathy got to me before I could get to Confession.

Then, Irene clawed her way up the coast, eventually plunging us into the dark for the next three days. My parents spent most of that time sleeping, while I sat awake in the dark.

Cut off from all my tech "stuff" and God's grace, those three days forced me to actually take a look at myself. What was I doing? Not only did I not care about the position I was in, but in many ways I used it as an excuse to get in even more trouble.

Hey, no one ever said I was good at this walk.

As much as I had hoped to weather being back home, over time it started to get under my skin. By the time I realized, I was a tangled up mess. But actually making the effort to right things yet again seemed pointless. Eventually, I'd end up back in this place. Why bother?

Then, more out of boredom than anything else, I started to read the Bible on my iPod, starting with the Mass readings for the next day (Jer 20:7-9):

You duped me, O LORD, and I let myself be duped;
you were too strong for me, and you triumphed.
All the day I am an object of laughter;
everyone mocks me.

Whenever I speak, I must cry out,
violence and outrage is my message;
the word of the LORD has brought me
derision and reproach all the day.

I say to myself, I will not mention him,
I will speak in his name no more.
But then it becomes like fire burning in my heart,
imprisoned in my bones;
I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it.

Zing. Defeated again. And I had the answer to that "why bother:" He called me years ago and He calls me still, and no matter how much distance I try to put between us, despite all the lies and excuses I make to myself, I'm no longer happy unless I'm bound up with Him.

And sitting there in both literal and spiritual darkness, that stupid, persistent longing stirred up in me all over again.

It took three weeks for me to finally get to the confessional, but that waiting period ended up being very good for me. So often I take God and His mercy for granted ... and I think this is what I needed to wake me up.

He always knows exactly what we need, and for stubborn souls like mine, that's sometimes a bit of tough love.