One thing that held me back from entering Catholicism was a matter of conscience; a concern that if I did so, I would be betraying the legions of Protestants who had faithfully loved and served and walked with God for centuries. There was absolutely no sense in that.
In the days since I started to announce my upcoming confirmation into communion with the Catholic church, I've been receiving some very interesting email from Catholic friends and acquaintances. Pastor and writer David Roper says, "go where people want you, especially where they want you the most", and I can tell you that I am far and away wanted the most by Catholics. People are admitting they've been praying (some very secretly) for this step for five, eight, or more than ten years. Others saying that the minute they met me, they knew I would eventually become Catholic. They might not feel so convinced about it if I start joking that I'll be the area's only Calvinist Catholic, although a friend who also used to be in a Reformed church says she considers herself the same way. I am more of a "new ecumenist" in the orthodox sense (not the uselessly liberal sense), rather than a "drink the Kool-Aid" Catholic. But at any rate, the sheer volume of intensity from people who cared so much about this really gets me wondering sometimes.
Why was this so bloody important?
The question rattles me from time to time, and the last 48 hours it has rattled me considerably. Sure, I wanted to become a Catholic, and not just because it's a nice way to worship God. There is a lot of principle behind this, years of wrestling through issues, a truckload of varied cultural experiences, lots of ongoing relationships, reading a lot of books, and two years of sitting for countless hours in a darkened church, with the presence of Christ so thick you could cut it with a knife.
But I was and am already a genuine Christian. The Lord assured me poignantly back in November that I didn't need to do or be anything more than I already was in order to please Him. The big move to pursue Catholicism was more a step of freedom of conscience which had slowly developed, rather than a sense of some mandate from on high. It was underscored by a growing sense of purpose for my taking the step, though that specific purpose has not been made known to me.
Last night I re-read an essay that I wrote five years ago, after being with Mike's family at the sudden death of their father. The family is devoutly Catholic, and the Lord intricately wove the details of Catholic faith and practice into the fabric of devastatingly amazing events, for which I was present. It affected me deeply, and I realized the other day that certain inklings from that time were being played out now. As I read all that again, added to the amazing emails I've been receiving from Catholic friends, I am rather bowled over by a sense that, as we are wont to feel when in the hands of the living God, that I am being swept up in something far bigger than myself, for purposes I can't even begin to comprehend.
A housemate from Catholic college days wrote something which intuitively grasped something of what I have been experiencing over the last several months:
Those times in life are always so exciting, when you can almost palpably feel the Hand of God preparing you for something! I remember feeling that so strongly for several months before I met my husband and fully discerned my vocation in life, and it was amazing!It really is amazing - but it also unnerves me a bit as well. Maybe it's holy fear - not a bad fear, but one that let's you know that God is very near, very active, and really up to something out of the ordinary. It's like intuitively sensing that a lion is nearby, but not being able to see it or what it's doing. Like the Narnia description that "Aslan is on the move."
I've continued to meditate a lot on the significance of the words to the hymn in my last post, "Make Me a Captive, Lord". There's so much packed into those four stanzas that explains my life. I am wondering if what God is doing here, in putting me under the authority of the Catholic church, is partly a playing out of the truths of that hymn. In the Anglican book of Common Prayer, there's a well-known collect which says something to the effect of "God...in whose service is perfect freedom". When God constrains us somehow, it might look foolish, or unnecessary, or even unbiblical, but it is a discipline that brings us good. It wasn't terrific that Joseph was in jail under false accusation for so many years in Egypt, but it gave him the preparation he needed for ruling, and one can only imagine the deep interactions that must have gone on between him and God during those difficult years.
So I look at that hymn, about submitting my freedom, my heart, my power, and my will to God, and I see the promises behind it. The ambitions I was born to have, the desire for a godly power to do good, to partner with a leader in a sort of "monarchy" of influence that God designs, to have a focus and "spring of action sure", to have a strong and effective hand...they all have their place, but that place is behind a radical submission to God. I was never opposed to this, but I think after waiting so excruciatingly long for answers, God has me in a place where I am ready to follow Him down a less obvious path to freedom.
I feel apprehensive about it, because it is counterintuitive to my rational, evangelical, American individualist mind. But I also feel great peace, because I see the the Holy Spirit and truth leading me with an extremely loving hand. That is what matters more than anything else.
I wonder where we're going to go?
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