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Posts Tagged ‘faith’

And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may be with you for ever. 

John 14:16

As I meditated on the concept of Comfort while preparing to write this post, I reflected that it’s a word that evokes strong feelings, and it comes with conflicting connotations in modern times.  We are urged to “get out of [our] comfort zones” on the one hand while we are bombarded with advertisements promising comfort through consumerism on the other.  Along with visions of stuffing ourselves with so-called comfort foods come images of a fat and lazy populace too comfortable and complacent to do anything.

And yet Jesus promises us comfort, so what did He mean?  If it’s something He wants to give us, how can it be bad?

Read the rest at Everyday Ediths!

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As I do every month, I’m linking up today with the Siena Sisters Catholic Women’s Blogging Network Hop.  You can see from the title of my post what I am supposed to be writing about.  And wouldn’t you think I’d have been brimming over with things to say?  Yet I’ve found myself struggling and wondering why.

I’ve written before about why I remain a Catholic, and reiterated many of those sentiments in a later post where I explained how intrinsic my faith is to my very identity.   And maybe that’s why this is hard.  Maybe it’s because being Catholic isn’t something I ever consciously chose.  Maybe it’s because it’s too much a part for me to see it clearly.  It’s like being asked why I love my mother or father.  I could tell you things I like or love ABOUT them, but that’s not WHY I love them.

It’s entirely possible I am overthinking this, but I’m going to change focus just a bit and write about some things I love ABOUT my Catholic faith.  Even that is hard, since there is nothing about it that I don’t love! But I’ll try to focus in on a few things, in no particular order.

  • The Church is not a cult of personality.  My feelings about a particular priest or even a particular Pope don’t affect my allegiance to the teachings and truth of the Church.  The Church has survived all forms of corruption and we have Jesus’s own assurances that the Church shall prevail: “And I say to you: That you are Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18)
  • The Church is a repository of incredible wisdom.  Just the other day, my husband I were discussing something we’d heard or read (I can’t remember what it was) and he said he wished that the Church had explained whatever it was.  And I just laughed at him and said, “You haven’t looked it up, have you?” Because I knew that of course the Church has written about and explained it somewhere because the Church has explanations for everything!  I take comfort in the fact that great minds have been exploring the mysteries of the universe and explicating the faith for centuries.  The Church doesn’t rest on one person’s interpretation.
  • Related to the above is that the Church has very clear rules, principles, and precepts, and they don’t change.  The Church rises to the challenge of the modern world with nuanced explanations or interpretations or the application of old rules to new issues.  It isn’t always easy to live up to the demands of the faith, but there is plenty of guidance available for those of us who want to try.
  • All of the above sounds dry and intellectual, but I also find great solace in the fact that the Catholic faith has endured for so long and that it is practiced by so many around the globe.  It is strengthening to know that I am united to so many other believers, past and present, especially the Saints, whose examples we as Catholics are blessed to be able to follow.
  • Finally, I love the Church’s engagement with the world.  I love that we are to be salt and light (Matthew 5:13-16) and that the Church provides us with clear directions on how to do that through the instructions of our Bishops.  I love the Church’s commitment to social justice and its defense of life and human dignity from conception to natural death.

I’d love to hear from you! If you are Catholic, tell me in the comments why YOU love the faith, or what you love ABOUT it! If you aren’t tell me what you love about YOUR church! And if you’d like to read more reflections like this one, click the picture below.

why I love my catholic faith

 

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Last night I told my daughter I felt like I had lived at least a month in the past week or so.  Have you ever felt that way?

Because of all that I and my family have been through in the last twelve days, I find myself starting at my computer screen this morning praying for inspiration for the blog post I should have had ready to go last night at the very latest–last night when I was completing a 550 mile drive back from an unexpected funeral.

Wait a minute . . . inspiration is coming . . .

Read the rest at Everyday Ediths!

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Until very recently, worry and anxiety have not been challenges for me.  I have the kind of mind that just doesn’t hold on the those kinds of things.  Unlike my husband, who is consumed with worry pretty much all the time, making him miserable, I have always been able to put problems aside to deal with whatever is right in front of me.

Lately, I’ve suffered from anxiety of the free-floating variety.  Because it isn’t rational, it doesn’t respond to rational techniques.  I tend to treat it by whiffing essential oils or going outside to sit in the sun.  What’s worse is when it attaches itself to legitimate areas of worry that I would have been able to put out of my mind in the past.  When that happens, and chanting my usual mantra (Cast your cares on God; that anchor holds.) isn’t working, there is one Scripture passage I turn to.

You know the jokes about Catholics–we don’t read our Bibles and we can’t quote chapter and verse like our Protestant brethren.  Of course that’s not true of all Catholics, and the fact is that most of us are exposed to a lot of Scripture via the Mass readings.  According to this source, a Catholic who attends Mass on Sundays and major feasts will hear about 41% of the New Testament and 4% of the Old (that doesn’t count the Psalms), even if they never crack open a Bible at home or in a study group.

So I know lots of Scripture, even if I don’t always know exactly where to find it.  But I always remember that the passage about anxiety is in the book of Matthew, Chapter 6:

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life? 28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin; 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O men of little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.

34 “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day.

Even if I have trouble believing it right in the moment, I know that if Jesus said it, it must be true.  Even if I can’t see how, I know He is working all things out for my good.  Even though I can’t always manage it, I want to live as though I really, REALLY believe these words all the time.

And thanks to a new prayer practice I adopted this Lent, I am growing in this area.  More than once, after I have shared my anxieties with God in my prayer journal, insight, answers, and comfort have followed within days.  I find my thoughts turning toward journaling when I am facing a knotty problem in my life or when I am overcome with worries and anxiety.  I find myself really trusting that it is all in God’s hands.

 

This post is part of the Catholic Women’s Blogger Network Blog Hop.  For more articles on faith and worry, click below.

How My Faith Helps Me Worry Less

 

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So today’s post is brought to you courtesy of the Catholic Women’s Blogger Network.  It’s part of our monthly blog hop and I totally would not be writing it if it weren’t.

Because here’s where I peek out from under my somewhat ill-fitting Catholic blogger hat and admit that my true feelings about Confession are a mixture of guilt and discomfort.  I hate that but it’s the truth.

I wrote the whole story here if you want to read it.  When did I write it?  A little over four years ago, which is the last time I went to Confession.

I can’t tell you how I long for the days when we were marched regularly into the cafeteria of St. Joseph School, with no advance warning or choice in the matter, and told that we were going to confession in the dark little closet where Father Henkel waited.  I’d stand in a red plaid line, leaning against the radiator for warmth and secretly wondering about how long certain people were taking.  Before I knew it I was all finished, back on the hard wooden kneeler saying two Our Fathers and one Hail Mary, and my soul was white as snow.

Clearly this is the Lent of hard things for me with lessons to be learned, and if I am really paying attention it would seem that this is one of them.  Will I go to our parish’s upcoming Lenten penance service and find a friendly priest in the basement to hear my uncomfortable and unprofessional recitation of sins? Only time will tell.

To read more reflections on the Sacrament of Confession, click the image below.

march blog hop

 

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sjs mary 2

Three of my kids in front of the statue of the Blessed Mother at St. Joseph School

I’m a Catholic school veteran—16 years all told.    I sent my three oldest children to the same parochial grade school I attended.  Catholic schools have Religion class every day along with Math, English, and Social Studies, and that’s great—but what’s even better are the little ways in which faith is part of EVERY class, the way that it can be talked about or brought to life at any moment.  Even more than actual religious education, this to me is the gift and the value of attending a Catholic school.

At this holy time of year—and by “time of year” I mean Advent, not Christmas—my thoughts always turn to early December mornings at St. Joseph School.  The whole school went to Mass every morning—our sanctuary revealed by the opening of a curtain, our pews a cafeteria full of folding chairs.  And afterwards we filed out—all 200 of us—and gathered in the front hall of the school.

I remember mornings as darker in those days.  Certainly they were colder, and with wall radiators providing the only heat we shivered in our red cardigans.  But what happened on those Advent mornings was a source of light and warmth to me.

There was—still is—a little elevated area next to the office, full of rocks (that we were forbidden to play with and always did), with a statue of the Blessed Virgin in the middle.  During the Advent season, Mary was joined by a tree, a cedar tree I believe, that served as a Jesse Tree during Advent and, briefly, as a Christmas tree right before the winter break.

Jesse was King David’s father, and Jesus was descended (by adoption) from David’s line.  The Jesse Tree custom involves the hanging of a different ornament on the tree each day, and the reading of a Bible verse.  The ornaments and verses tell the story of Jesus’ ancestors and foreshadow the coming Messiah.  The way I remember it, the first one every year was a stump, and the verse was something like, “A new root springs from the stump of Jesse.”

One of the big girls (in my memory they are adults, even though now I realize they were just little girls, eighth graders) would hold up the felt ornaments for all of us to see as the verse was read.  Then Sister Janice (our principal) would start one of the Advent songs—The King of Glory, On Jordan’s Bank, or O Come O Come Emmanuel.   We all knew them by heart.  And we’d walk slowly back to our classrooms, singing as we went.

I don’t know how everyone else felt about it, but to me it was magical.  I looked forward to it every year.   So when my three big kids were little, we cut out and colored our own Jesse Tree ornaments.  For many years, we hung an ornament on my favorite house plant each evening before supper.  We lost the ornaments when our house burned down, but Lorelei and William willingly colored a new set  so that we could continue the tradition for years to come.

This post originally appeared on my friend Lacy’s blog.  If you are looking for Christmas gifts, you should check out her handmade necklaces here.

 

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I know how I lucky I am to live in a country where my freedom to worship however I wish is guaranteed.  I take that for granted and I find it hard to realize that people are still persecuted to the point of death for their beliefs in other parts of the world even though I know it’s true.

Still, the constant Catholic-bashing gets me down, y’all.  It hurts when I go to the happy little Facebook group I belong to that’s supposed to be about celebrating my hometown with lots of nostalgic posts and read this: “I don’t see how anyone can believe in a religion that is so self-indulgent.”  Or when a local news channel chooses to juxtapose the joyful news of a new Pope with one about settling an abuse lawsuit.  Or when I attempt to point out in yet another Facebook thread that there are plenty of pedophiles in Protestant churches (and in schools, and sports organizations, and other places) and am told that clearly I am just trying to minimize the evil of the abuse and the cover up.

Living in the Bible Belt, I have dealt with misunderstandings and prejudices about my faith for my entire life.  I’ve heard that I’ll be going to Hell because a sprinkling Baptism isn’t good enough.  I’ve come out of Mass to find sensationalistic pamphlets purportedly penned by ex-priests and ex-nuns who know the “truth” about the Church shoved under my windshield wipers.  I’ve  been told lies about my faith to my face and have had my explanations flatly contradicted or ignored.

When people come to my door and ask if I have a church family I experience a moment of trepidation and discomfort when I tell them that I’m Catholic because of the thoughts I am pretty sure will be going through their heads.  When William was chanting “Habemus Papam” in the office of his public school last week and asking me if everyone at school knew about the Pope, I was afraid of what people might say to him.  He hasn’t experienced religious prejudice yet.

My Catholic faith is the very core of who I am, and when you bash the Church in which I firmly believe, you are bashing me.  Questions are wonderful.  I welcome the opportunity to discuss, explain–even debate.  I don’t believe that all religions are equal, but I do believe that people’s beliefs, whatever they may be, are worthy of respect.  Someone else said it better than me, y’all:  “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

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