Lately, I have had the privilege of spending time with some Christians from college. While they're Protestant, I still thank God for them often. They offer me fellowship that I've needed so badly since giving my life to Christ. When I was alone, it was very difficult to walk in faith; with them, I have a support network to fall back back on when things get tricky.
Sometimes, though, our differences are nearly tangible.
Just this week, the four of us went out to dinner with our one friend's pastor, and the pastor's wife. They were both very genuine, funny people whom I really enjoyed getting acquainted with. They asked me a few questions about my Catholic faith, which I handled as best as I was able before the topic drifted to Protestant theologians.
While listening to their conversation, I was hit suddenly with the realization that, honestly, I just don't fit. I don't belong in their crowd, and I never will.
It's not just because they're Protestant; indeed, that does play a part, but it's not the entire reason. Sometimes, it seems that all the Christians I meet are, well, exactly the same. We (they?) present ourselves with this image that we're pure and good and holy and righteous and--
Set apart.
So many Christians are cookie cutters, who all take on the same, plastic way of behaving. Maybe it's a defense mechanism (and, really, I don't blame them if it is), but it's really unnecessary. If God wanted a planet of robots, He would have created us that way.
We have identities. Can we not be ourselves in Christ? You'd think we'd be confident enough to think, to live outside those little molds society pressures us into.
Cookie cutters don't help anyone but other Christians, and even then, such molds can hurt people. It sends a message to new believers, or even older ones, that one has to act in a certain way to be a 'proper' Christian. There's a standard you have to reach, or you're not good enough. Though it's not always meant to be that way, that message can be sent subtly.
To non-Christians, it looks even worse. We're haughty, above everyone else, and seemingly unwilling to accept those who aren't spotless lambs like we are. That doesn't exactly make our faith look attractive.
As for me, well, I like being a little rough around the edges. I love being with a man who is Christian, yet just as real as the rest of the world. My closest friends in the fold will always be those who survived some of the nastiest physical and spiritual attachments life can throw at us, and aren't afraid to be honest about it.
We're not cookie-cutters. We don't really fit anywhere...and we like it that way, most of time. We've broken our molds, and as my dear friend John says, we're just cookies now.
Punny as it may be, it's true.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Friday, March 7, 2008
I Hate Pachelbel
I want to take a break from theology tonight with something that made me laugh straight through. Originally, this blog wasn't going to be all about matters of faith, but the muse had other plans. Yes, I'm punny, no need to mention it. ;) )
By the way, Pachelbel's name really was Johann.
By the way, Pachelbel's name really was Johann.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
The Handmaiden
Let me begin by saying as a Catholic striving to live with orthodoxy, I acknowledge all the Church teaches us about the Blessed Virgin Mary, including her Immaculate Conception, bodily Assumption, and role as Queen of Heaven.
I bet you wish your mother was as awesome as she is. :)
That said, there's something that has left in me a sense of unease since my return to the Church. Have you ever noticed that, in times of trouble, many Catholics will flee to their rosaries? Some will talk about Mary more than even their own Savior.
Now, don't get me wrong; this is all well and good. Our Lady is indeed our number one intercessor. She loves to pray to the Lord for us and with us, and because she is the Mother of Christ, prayers from her are particularly powerful.
However, I cannot help but make an observation similar to the one Kimberly Hahn (wife of Catholic theologian Dr. Scott Hahn) made before her conversion to Catholicism. In their book, Rome Sweet Home, she writes:
Again, let me stress that my concern isn't with the Blessed Mother, but with those who cling so closely to her. I don't blame them, really; who better to turn to than one who will pick us up and dust us off, rather than facing the shame and rightful judgment of the Almighty?
The truth of the matter is that it is a grey area. The line can be far too thin, it seems, when our pious devotions become more than the hyperdulia that we show to Mary.
It doesn't escape me that, as I seek the intercession of my Mother at my home parish, as I face her, my back is to the crucifix. My back is to the tabernacle that houses my Lord and Savior truly present in the Sacred Host and Precious Blood.
So what does Our Lady think of all this?
Well, she tells us in the first chapter of St. Luke's Gospel:
All generations did and do call her "blessed amongst women". But both Mary herself and modern Catholics extol her Son in the next breath.
Mary's eyes, in my parish, are not on those that pray before her, but on Christ on the cross. I think that if she were alive and among us today, she would pull us up from our place on our knees, take us gently by the shoulders, and turn us to face her Son. Blessed as she may be, she is merely human, honored by God with perfect grace and holiness. In the end, salvation comes from Christ alone. Mary knows that, but do we?
It is so important to know our place in the covenant, as Scott Hahn presents it: Christ is our brother, and His Mother is ours--but God is our Father. They, with all the saints, are there for us, but God is number one.
Still, it never hurts to tell our Mother that we love her.
Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee! Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the our of our death.
Amen.
I bet you wish your mother was as awesome as she is. :)
That said, there's something that has left in me a sense of unease since my return to the Church. Have you ever noticed that, in times of trouble, many Catholics will flee to their rosaries? Some will talk about Mary more than even their own Savior.
Now, don't get me wrong; this is all well and good. Our Lady is indeed our number one intercessor. She loves to pray to the Lord for us and with us, and because she is the Mother of Christ, prayers from her are particularly powerful.
However, I cannot help but make an observation similar to the one Kimberly Hahn (wife of Catholic theologian Dr. Scott Hahn) made before her conversion to Catholicism. In their book, Rome Sweet Home, she writes:
It seemed that Catholics focused on Mary the way we [Protestants] focused on Jesus: she was the approachable one--you could hide in her skirts rather than face the Father in his anger; Mary was the broad back door into God's favor, while Jesus remained the narrow front door.
Again, let me stress that my concern isn't with the Blessed Mother, but with those who cling so closely to her. I don't blame them, really; who better to turn to than one who will pick us up and dust us off, rather than facing the shame and rightful judgment of the Almighty?
The truth of the matter is that it is a grey area. The line can be far too thin, it seems, when our pious devotions become more than the hyperdulia that we show to Mary.
It doesn't escape me that, as I seek the intercession of my Mother at my home parish, as I face her, my back is to the crucifix. My back is to the tabernacle that houses my Lord and Savior truly present in the Sacred Host and Precious Blood.
So what does Our Lady think of all this?
Well, she tells us in the first chapter of St. Luke's Gospel:
48For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
49For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name.
All generations did and do call her "blessed amongst women". But both Mary herself and modern Catholics extol her Son in the next breath.
Mary's eyes, in my parish, are not on those that pray before her, but on Christ on the cross. I think that if she were alive and among us today, she would pull us up from our place on our knees, take us gently by the shoulders, and turn us to face her Son. Blessed as she may be, she is merely human, honored by God with perfect grace and holiness. In the end, salvation comes from Christ alone. Mary knows that, but do we?
It is so important to know our place in the covenant, as Scott Hahn presents it: Christ is our brother, and His Mother is ours--but God is our Father. They, with all the saints, are there for us, but God is number one.
Still, it never hurts to tell our Mother that we love her.
Amen.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
A Modern Woman at the Well
This weekend's Gospel is one of the better known stories of the Bible: Christ encounters a Samaritan woman who has come alone to draw water at a well.
I'd like to thank Fr. Brian of Phatmass.com for sharing this new perspective on the old passage.
Enjoy; expect a more substantial post sometime soon. :)
I'd like to thank Fr. Brian of Phatmass.com for sharing this new perspective on the old passage.
Enjoy; expect a more substantial post sometime soon. :)
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Freedom Isn't Free
It is with some sheepishness that I admit I have a soft spot in me for Christian music. I know there's nothing wrong with it, it's just not my style. ;)
In an introduction to Chris Tomlin's "Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)", the DJ remarked that because of our belief in Christ, we were saved and delivered from our "chains"--those nasty sins that hold us back--once, now, and forever.
Beautiful as that may sound, I find myself raising an eyebrow in skepticism.
If my chains were gone, then I'd not snap in anger at my parents.
If my chains were gone, then I wouldn't be careless in my language.
If my chains were gone, then I wouldn't need to fight my passions like an alter ego.
Right? Isn't that what "once saved always saved" means? Well, any Christian will say they still have sins present in their life that weigh them down--vices, hangups, and for some, even addictions. If salvation equates to our freedom from sin, then shouldn't these things have disappeared when we accepted Christ? Clearly humanity debunks this "broken chains" idealism faster than it can get on its feet.
Some Protestants believe that once we make that initial cry for salvation, there is nothing in this world that can separate us from God. Because we have called on the name of the Lord, we will spend eternity in Heaven. This, too, is a faulty way of thinking. Take, for example, a scenario in which a Christian murders his brother. Is this person saved? According to some denominations, yes, he is, even though the Bible clearly tells us we shall not kill. The wages of sin is death, indeed.
This is why salvation is not an event, but a process that takes our entire lives to complete. Yes, there is usually a moment when we call out for Christ, and He comes to live within us. However, our fates aren't sealed in that instant. We are made temples of the Holy Spirit, as St. Paul tells us, but what happens when we defile ourselves with sins of both thought and deed? The Holy Spirit cannot live contently in something unholy.
Salvation is a journey. Every day, we make choices--either walk toward holiness and the promises of Christ, or walk toward sin and separation from our Father who loves us so much. Accept and work with the grace of God to overcome temptation, or reject it in stubbornness and remain trapped in sin.
I've been saved (Rom. 8:24, Eph. 2:5–8), but I’m also being saved in the here and now (1 Cor. 1:8, 2 Cor. 2:15, Phil. 2:12), and I have the hope that I will be saved at the end of my life (Rom. 5:9–10, 1 Cor. 3:12–15). [Verses from Catholic.com]
We can only ever be truly free the day we stand before our Lord, and are welcomed with open arms into His kingdom. Until then, we follow His commandments and live in His love. With grace, maybe those "chains" won't be so heavy after all.
In an introduction to Chris Tomlin's "Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)", the DJ remarked that because of our belief in Christ, we were saved and delivered from our "chains"--those nasty sins that hold us back--once, now, and forever.
Beautiful as that may sound, I find myself raising an eyebrow in skepticism.
If my chains were gone, then I'd not snap in anger at my parents.
If my chains were gone, then I wouldn't be careless in my language.
If my chains were gone, then I wouldn't need to fight my passions like an alter ego.
Right? Isn't that what "once saved always saved" means? Well, any Christian will say they still have sins present in their life that weigh them down--vices, hangups, and for some, even addictions. If salvation equates to our freedom from sin, then shouldn't these things have disappeared when we accepted Christ? Clearly humanity debunks this "broken chains" idealism faster than it can get on its feet.
Some Protestants believe that once we make that initial cry for salvation, there is nothing in this world that can separate us from God. Because we have called on the name of the Lord, we will spend eternity in Heaven. This, too, is a faulty way of thinking. Take, for example, a scenario in which a Christian murders his brother. Is this person saved? According to some denominations, yes, he is, even though the Bible clearly tells us we shall not kill. The wages of sin is death, indeed.
This is why salvation is not an event, but a process that takes our entire lives to complete. Yes, there is usually a moment when we call out for Christ, and He comes to live within us. However, our fates aren't sealed in that instant. We are made temples of the Holy Spirit, as St. Paul tells us, but what happens when we defile ourselves with sins of both thought and deed? The Holy Spirit cannot live contently in something unholy.
Salvation is a journey. Every day, we make choices--either walk toward holiness and the promises of Christ, or walk toward sin and separation from our Father who loves us so much. Accept and work with the grace of God to overcome temptation, or reject it in stubbornness and remain trapped in sin.
I've been saved (Rom. 8:24, Eph. 2:5–8), but I’m also being saved in the here and now (1 Cor. 1:8, 2 Cor. 2:15, Phil. 2:12), and I have the hope that I will be saved at the end of my life (Rom. 5:9–10, 1 Cor. 3:12–15). [Verses from Catholic.com]
We can only ever be truly free the day we stand before our Lord, and are welcomed with open arms into His kingdom. Until then, we follow His commandments and live in His love. With grace, maybe those "chains" won't be so heavy after all.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Inexhaustible love...
It's an insult to God when you think your sins are greater than His mercy. --Mother Angelica
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Backseat Driver
In my (almost) two years as a Christian, I have seen witnessing and evangelism that made even those of us in the fold cringe.
I'm sure you're all quite familiar with the raging fire-and-brimstone proselytizing that makes its rounds in the Christian community, often sending its victims running away as fast as humanly possible, not accepting Christ as planned.
Oops?
Other situations find a Christian doing his or her best to witness, and, when things are going south, find themselves frustrated. I've seen that happen just the other day on a forum, with lots of bold letters, italics, and most importantly, YOU'RE DENYING THE TRUTH. IT IS WRITTEN.
Looks like someone forgot that Rome wasn't built in a day. ;)
There is, however, a similar evil on the other end of the scale. We can be gentle, we can love our non-Catholic friends to death, but what happens when that love turns into complacency and compromise of the truth? I can't be sure, but as a friend reminded me the other day, if we deny God, we in turn will be denied by Him. That, frankly, is something I don't want to risk by being a sissy.
Pride is a vice that loves to play head games. We sometimes manage to get it into our heads that all we have to do is say the right thing, make the right argument, give the right answers, and they'll convert. All it takes is a little convincing, no?
Well...no. Just no. And may Christ have mercy on me for ever thinking that was the way it was done! I've been a fool.
Again, it all comes down to grace. No matter how difficult it may be from the outside, there's nothing we can do to change the hearts of those around us. That responsibility is in God alone. That doesn't mean that we give up, of course, but we need to listen to the Spirit and act accordingly.
My heart is in the right place, but I'm not doing the right thing. And I may be more of a hindrance than a help to God right now, as long as I think there's "something I can do".
The only thing I can do is love, and love unconditionally. The rest is in His hands. He is more than capable. I was so entirely wrong for apologising for speaking the truth. As much as it hurts...I can't be sorry anymore.
I'm sure you're all quite familiar with the raging fire-and-brimstone proselytizing that makes its rounds in the Christian community, often sending its victims running away as fast as humanly possible, not accepting Christ as planned.
Oops?
Other situations find a Christian doing his or her best to witness, and, when things are going south, find themselves frustrated. I've seen that happen just the other day on a forum, with lots of bold letters, italics, and most importantly, YOU'RE DENYING THE TRUTH. IT IS WRITTEN.
Looks like someone forgot that Rome wasn't built in a day. ;)
There is, however, a similar evil on the other end of the scale. We can be gentle, we can love our non-Catholic friends to death, but what happens when that love turns into complacency and compromise of the truth? I can't be sure, but as a friend reminded me the other day, if we deny God, we in turn will be denied by Him. That, frankly, is something I don't want to risk by being a sissy.
Pride is a vice that loves to play head games. We sometimes manage to get it into our heads that all we have to do is say the right thing, make the right argument, give the right answers, and they'll convert. All it takes is a little convincing, no?
Well...no. Just no. And may Christ have mercy on me for ever thinking that was the way it was done! I've been a fool.
Again, it all comes down to grace. No matter how difficult it may be from the outside, there's nothing we can do to change the hearts of those around us. That responsibility is in God alone. That doesn't mean that we give up, of course, but we need to listen to the Spirit and act accordingly.
My heart is in the right place, but I'm not doing the right thing. And I may be more of a hindrance than a help to God right now, as long as I think there's "something I can do".
The only thing I can do is love, and love unconditionally. The rest is in His hands. He is more than capable. I was so entirely wrong for apologising for speaking the truth. As much as it hurts...I can't be sorry anymore.
Friday, November 9, 2007
The I'm Sorry Jesus Maneuver
It seems that I am, at long last, beginning to climb out of a hole I fell into with some particularly nasty sins a few months ago.
I can recall quite easily what my faith was like when I was fresh out of the occult. The closest thing I had come to a church was online, in ExWitch Ministries and its affiliates. When my computer was off and I lived in the 'real world', however, I was completely alone.
My family and friends are all, with the exception of a precious few, secular. I had no one to be accountable to, and, because of that, sin ran rampant in my life. Of course, there was no one to apologise to but my invisible Savior--what I like to call the "I'm Sorry Jesus Maneuver". You've sinned, you tell Him so, you swear you'll try again...
And you fail. Because, really, who will know? There is no damage to your pride, your reputation, if you live a life of sin. And as for Jesus, well, He'll always forgive. Apathy sets in quickly, and soon we no longer apologise. We sin, and sin, and we sin, and expect to get by...
How?
We go to church, and the pastor strokes our egos, reminding us again that all we have to do is ask His mercy...and, as we walk out the door, we are the same people we were yesterday. Oh, yes, we've sinned again, but alleluia! God will forgive. God loves us.
All of this, mind, is true! But do we really expect that we will get away with all of this?
Hardly. And the Sacrament of Reconciliation has opened my eyes to that.
You know, you never realise how destructive and shameful sin can be until you look a man (just like us!) in the face, and make known all that you have done to spit in the face of our Maker. If you expect to walk out of there with a scrap of pride, or the slightest intention of sinning again, you my friend, are in for a surprise.
What you get, instead, is the tearing down of the facade you worked so very, very hard to build. The person waiting beyond that facade is dirty, stained with sin, and not at all worthy of our Lord. How could we ever dream of being worthy with a soul this broken?
That is where the beauty of absolution, and our salvation, comes in. Not by our works, or by our faith alone, but by His grace.
When we peel away those layers of pride, selfishness, and sin, we are left with a creature that God could not possibly love more. And, even dirty and broken, we are beautiful in His eyes. It is only when the pretenses are gone that God can begin our healing--and it is very hard to reach that with a simple I'm Sorry Jesus Maneuver.
With a priest to guide us, however embarrassing it may be (and sin should be embarrassing), it makes finding the straight and narrow again much easier. "If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them," said Christ to the Apostles in John 20, "and if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained." That is, indeed, quite the responsibility. But, to me, it is worth so much more than simple ego stroking.
The next time you feel the temptation to sin, think of how difficult it is to wash away those stains on your own. His grace is simple and free, but the destruction we cause in our transgressions will take much more than that to heal.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, and His mercy endures forever.
I can recall quite easily what my faith was like when I was fresh out of the occult. The closest thing I had come to a church was online, in ExWitch Ministries and its affiliates. When my computer was off and I lived in the 'real world', however, I was completely alone.
My family and friends are all, with the exception of a precious few, secular. I had no one to be accountable to, and, because of that, sin ran rampant in my life. Of course, there was no one to apologise to but my invisible Savior--what I like to call the "I'm Sorry Jesus Maneuver". You've sinned, you tell Him so, you swear you'll try again...
And you fail. Because, really, who will know? There is no damage to your pride, your reputation, if you live a life of sin. And as for Jesus, well, He'll always forgive. Apathy sets in quickly, and soon we no longer apologise. We sin, and sin, and we sin, and expect to get by...
How?
We go to church, and the pastor strokes our egos, reminding us again that all we have to do is ask His mercy...and, as we walk out the door, we are the same people we were yesterday. Oh, yes, we've sinned again, but alleluia! God will forgive. God loves us.
All of this, mind, is true! But do we really expect that we will get away with all of this?
Hardly. And the Sacrament of Reconciliation has opened my eyes to that.
You know, you never realise how destructive and shameful sin can be until you look a man (just like us!) in the face, and make known all that you have done to spit in the face of our Maker. If you expect to walk out of there with a scrap of pride, or the slightest intention of sinning again, you my friend, are in for a surprise.
What you get, instead, is the tearing down of the facade you worked so very, very hard to build. The person waiting beyond that facade is dirty, stained with sin, and not at all worthy of our Lord. How could we ever dream of being worthy with a soul this broken?
That is where the beauty of absolution, and our salvation, comes in. Not by our works, or by our faith alone, but by His grace.
When we peel away those layers of pride, selfishness, and sin, we are left with a creature that God could not possibly love more. And, even dirty and broken, we are beautiful in His eyes. It is only when the pretenses are gone that God can begin our healing--and it is very hard to reach that with a simple I'm Sorry Jesus Maneuver.
With a priest to guide us, however embarrassing it may be (and sin should be embarrassing), it makes finding the straight and narrow again much easier. "If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them," said Christ to the Apostles in John 20, "and if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained." That is, indeed, quite the responsibility. But, to me, it is worth so much more than simple ego stroking.
The next time you feel the temptation to sin, think of how difficult it is to wash away those stains on your own. His grace is simple and free, but the destruction we cause in our transgressions will take much more than that to heal.
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, and His mercy endures forever.
No news is good news...
Right?
Yes, it has been a horrifically long time since I've updated this blog. For that, I apologise--I sincerely doubt I have many faithful readers anymore, but for those who remain, I am always glad to have you!
So much has happened in the past four months. The sudden death of my grandfather, the start of university and the consequent end of high school; my coming of age, the beginning of a new novel, and more than a few anniversaries, one of which being particularly dear to me.
I am eighteen. I am still, somehow, miraculously, by the grace of our Lord, Catholic. It has been a terrific (in the wonderful and scary sense), rough, ecstatically bumpy ride. And I am in love in more ways than one. I really don't think I mind in either scenario.
I've finally found fellowship, and while they are Protestants, I am so very grateful to them for taking me in. It has also given me some hands-on apologetics work, which can be so good for building on my faith. Coincidentally, I will be meeting someone new, a Catholic, who goes to both my college and parish, at tomorrow's Mass. This may be what I've been looking for.
As for faith and family, well, it's one day at a time. Blessings aren't always obvious, and I'm making it my sole purpose of late to seek out those blessings, even in the most tangled of situations.
The lack of updates, honestly, has come from a lack of material. For the first time in months, things are calm and steady. I'm beginning to grow suspicious--there is always a storm. It's only a matter of time now, I suppose, before the wind kicks up again. When it does, I will be ready. He is my strength.
It's always good to keep the mind working, even in good times! Hopefully, you will be seeing a little more of me in the coming months. That's the plan, in any case. ;)
In Christ's Divine Mercy,
Melissa
Yes, it has been a horrifically long time since I've updated this blog. For that, I apologise--I sincerely doubt I have many faithful readers anymore, but for those who remain, I am always glad to have you!
So much has happened in the past four months. The sudden death of my grandfather, the start of university and the consequent end of high school; my coming of age, the beginning of a new novel, and more than a few anniversaries, one of which being particularly dear to me.
I am eighteen. I am still, somehow, miraculously, by the grace of our Lord, Catholic. It has been a terrific (in the wonderful and scary sense), rough, ecstatically bumpy ride. And I am in love in more ways than one. I really don't think I mind in either scenario.
I've finally found fellowship, and while they are Protestants, I am so very grateful to them for taking me in. It has also given me some hands-on apologetics work, which can be so good for building on my faith. Coincidentally, I will be meeting someone new, a Catholic, who goes to both my college and parish, at tomorrow's Mass. This may be what I've been looking for.
As for faith and family, well, it's one day at a time. Blessings aren't always obvious, and I'm making it my sole purpose of late to seek out those blessings, even in the most tangled of situations.
The lack of updates, honestly, has come from a lack of material. For the first time in months, things are calm and steady. I'm beginning to grow suspicious--there is always a storm. It's only a matter of time now, I suppose, before the wind kicks up again. When it does, I will be ready. He is my strength.
It's always good to keep the mind working, even in good times! Hopefully, you will be seeing a little more of me in the coming months. That's the plan, in any case. ;)
In Christ's Divine Mercy,
Melissa
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Casting Crowns to release "The Altar and the Door" this week...
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest
I don't want to end up where You found me
And it echoes in my mind, keeps me awake tonight
...
I start the day, the war begins, endless reminding of my sin
Time and time again Your truth is drowned out by the storm I'm in
Today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way...
--Casting Crowns, "East to West"
I've been a fan of Casting Crowns since being turned on to their music last summer. For a lot of reasons, I can't go out and get a hold of their music in stores, so I'm stuck unless someone sends me their stuff, or I buy it from iTunes.
Now that they're offering the opportunity to pre-order the album on iTunes (you need iTunes for the link to work), I'm going to jump all over it. And, judging by the previews in their video, plus the first single "East to West", it's going to be an amazing CD.
Who else is excited?
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