What I Love About Catholicism: Another Perspective on 'Coming Home' #Catholic

When I first started to inch my way back to the Catholic Church in 2007, I heard a phrase that was both charming and comforting. "Welcome home," many would say to those either converting to Catholicism or returning to the Church after being absent for years.

Welcome home.

"Home" has many connotations. The first definition, and probably most common, is the home one grew up in, a home with parents and siblings. Another definition is one's hometown. Thinking of "home" usually brings back good memories. I was blessed to have been raised in a good home, with two parents who loved my brother and I very much and provided both the material and emotional support a child needs. I have many fond memories of my upbringing.

After I grew up and moved out, returning home always gave me a sense of security and rooted me in what my parents instilled in me; which namely were traits such as self-sufficiency, resourcefulness, sharp reasoning skills, critical thinking, generosity, consideration, thoughtfulness, and relational skills. I have always thanked God for these gifts.

Recently, I've started to see that returning to the Catholic Church, a "coming home" experience, actually provides another perspective that I've not heard too often. It is a glimpse into our real home, for our true state of rest will not come in this life, but in heaven.

I thought of this recently as I attended Mass. I reflected on the amount of peace my soul experiences when I am at Mass. Just the other day, I thought, "Someday, we who love Jesus Christ and His Church will be in a place where there is no more weeping, no more sorrow, no dissension, no violence, no ugly words, no sin -- someday we will be in a place we were created to be in the first place, our true home with our heavenly Father and Creator."

Just imagine. Our world, growing more chaotic and dark by the minute, would be nothing more than a bad memory; if we remember it at all in heaven. All of the upheaval and unrest that the world is now experiencing would be gone. These sorts of topsy-turvey, fighting-for-the-flesh battles are not our calling. We as Christians are called to a higher plane, a spiritual place where we realize that we're not home yet, but someday will be.

This is what Mass has come to mean to me. It is not only a "coming home" time, but a preview of Things To Come. The peace and joy we feel when we gather together in unity to praise God, to thank Him for His blessings, to remember what the precious Body and Blood of His Son, Jesus Christ did to set us free from sin, and to partake of our Savior's Body and Blood so that life remains in us, is extraordinary and a miracle. Every Sunday, and even daily, we have the opportunity to experience a slice of heaven.

The Mass has become more and more my rock, my anchor, my support. When I attend it, indeed I feel like I am "home."

One morning, after seeing my husband off to work during the wee hours of the morning, I crawled back under the covers, but not until I re-made the bed, straightening the sheets and blankets. As I settled underneath the warm layers, I sighed with pleasure. A thought ran across my mind: order brings comfort.

I thought of how a child needs the rhythms and little rituals of a good home life. It provides that child a sense of security as they experience consistency and dependability in their world. Within the Catholic Church, the same can be said of our liturgy. It is consistent and has been for over 2,000 years. It is dependable, in spite of many kings and rulers attempting to destroy it. It provides comfort and strength to those with eyes to see and ears to hear. The liturgy, with it's rich order, brings comfort.

Some may kick against such order, preferring instead to worship in a freestyle method. Some may chafe against the liturgy, feeling as though it is cramped and doesn't allow individual expression. But no one can put a bridle on your soul. During Mass, entering the interior is difficult but very rewarding. Within ourselves, we can connect the dots of what is transpiring during the liturgy and connect with the Trinity. This does not require big screen TVs, professional worship bands, or liturgical dancing.

All that is required is the willingness to leave at the door the desire to be entertained and instead embrace a deeper spiritual drama that occurs within ourselves. And when we do click with what is happening, we experience home.

I am longing for my real home more and more. I hope to someday hear my Father say to me, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." Meanwhile, I think I have a ways to go in helping others get home, too.

What I Love About Catholicism: Daily Mass #Catholic

I don't have the privilege of attending daily Mass, but have had the blessing of being able to attend a few Masses during the week. What I love about Catholicism, is that it is available. This really is a beautiful thing and a gracious gift of our heavenly Father.

I often think about the early Church, and how Christians had to meet in each other's homes because they were persecuted. They didn't have the freedom to walk down a street to the nearest temple and worship God and His Son, Jesus Christ, in the open.

We do.

Last week, I attended daily Mass twice. The first time was because I had read so much garbage about the evil in our world that I almost felt the worldly grime upon my soul. I prayed for God's mercy and thought, "I need to get to a Mass." Thank God (and I mean that literally), that almost around the corner and down the street from me was a parish that had an early morning Mass.

I joined the small group of about 18 other parishioners to take part of Mass. It was all so precious to me. I felt as though I had entered a safe harbor, a place where I could receive the peace and protection of God while I asked for strength for the day. Receiving the Holy Eucharist was exactly the medicine I needed.

Throughout the rest of the day, I felt buoyed by the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit. All this was imparted to me from a very abbreviated Mass that lasted under 30 minutes. The next day I attended again.

I'm not sure about anyone else, but our world is growing darker and to me, attending Mass is like a mini-retreat. It's the place where I get my head, heart, and spirit straightened out as I'm reminded of the truth. The world is spinning more and more out of control. We as Christians struggle to keep our lights shining. Sometimes it is very tempting to give up, to shrug our shoulders and say, "What's the use?"

And then we attend Mass, and are reminded of One Man, who sacrificed all for the glory of His Father. It looked like One Man could not do much and evil was all around Him. But He submitted to His Father's will, and ultimately, was victorious.

It is that victory, which was the shot heard 'round the spiritual world, that reminds me to never give up, to always believe, and to let God's truth permeate my soul.

He has won. He is winning. He will win again.

1937 Tridentine Mass, Narrated by Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen #Catholic

I just discovered this and thought some of you may enjoy it. It's a nice explanation of what is happening during a Tridentine Mass. I love Archbishop Sheen's voice. Everything sounds like poetry when he says it...

Pope Benedict XVI on Liturgical Dancing #Catholic

I will be buying this book very soon. I so love our Holy Father! I found part of this quote awhile ago and created the image you see on the side.

Liturgical Dancing

Dancing is not a form of expression for the Christian liturgy. In about the third century, there was an attempt in certain Gnostic-Docetic circles to introduce it into the liturgy. For these people, the Crucifixion was only an appearance. Before the Passion, Christ had abandoned the body that in any case he had never really assumed. Dancing could take the place of the liturgy of the Cross, because, after all, the Cross was only an appearance. The cultic dances of the different religions have different purposes--incantation, imitative magic, mystical ecstasy--none of which is compatible with the essential purpose of the liturgy of the "reasonable sacrifice". It is totally absurd to try to make the liturgy "attractive" by introducing dancing pantomimes (wherever possible performed by professional dance troupes), which frequently (and rightly, from the professionals' point of view) end with applause. Wherever applause breaks out in the liturgy because of some human achievement, it is a sure sign that the essence of liturgy has totally disappeared and been replaced by a kind of religious entertainment. Such attractiveness fades quickly--it cannot compete in the market of leisure pursuits, incorporating as it increasingly does various forms of religious titillation. I myself have experienced the replacing of the penitential rite by a dance performance, which, needless to say, received a round of applause. Could there be anything farther removed from true penitence? Liturgy can only attract people when it looks, not at itself, but at God, when it allows him to enter and act. Then something truly unique happens, beyond competition, and people have a sense that more has taken place than a recreational activity. None of the Christian rites includes dancing. (The Spirit of the Liturgy, pp 198-9)

What The Second Vatican Did To Catholicism: Blurred Identity Leads to Confusion #Catholic

Since returning the the Catholic Church, I quickly noticed the ongoing debate about the strengths and weaknesses of the Second Vatican Council. For those who have been reading my blog over the past year, you know my opinion. I have fallen into the camp of those who believe that the Second Vatican Council, for all its good intentions, has failed in its mandate to propagate the Catholic faith to her children.

I am one of what may be thousands who wandered from Catholicism into the transient world of non-denominationalism. Because a strong identity was never instilled in me, I tried to find it elsewhere. Because I didn't know what my faith stood for, I searched to find the truth that in essence, was already within me. The more I learn about my Catholic faith, the more I mourn the loss of what I was denied. The cost of implementing a strategy that stripped Catholicism of its sacred role was high. Too high. Not only has the Second Vatican robbed many "Cradle Catholics" of their birthright, it opened the door to political thought and action that has led to the ruin of the United States of America. (video) "Catholic" politicians who are really CINOs (Catholic In Name Only) repeatedly fail to represent Catholic doctrines such as pro-life and the sanctity of marriage.

Worse, some of our spiritual leaders, our bishops, have also failed to declare Catholic doctrine and hold Catholics accountable for supporting abortion and gay marriage. Of all religions in the world, Catholicism should never capitulate to fear. We are the religion that others love to kill and stood strong in the face of martyrdom. When I think of those saints who were fed to the lions as a roaring crowd approved - and then think of how some Catholic politicians cave like a house of cards to pressure from certain groups; my stomach turns. The CINOs weak acquiescence to evil shames the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Months ago, my twentysomething cousin and I were talking about men and dating. She was exasperated over the difficulty of finding decent men to date. "Where did all the 'real men' go?" She asked. My answer: "Feminism killed them off." Of course there are still "real men" around, but not as many as there could be if feminism hadn't infiltrated our classrooms, continually punishing boys for being boys. But the same question could be applied to our Church - where has "Real Catholicism" gone? Because as I read the Catechism of the Catholic Church, I can vouch with certainty that its not found in "diversity" churches that celebrate active homosexuality, abortion, and Marxism.

What have we lost? In a recent article in the Wall Street Journal, Stephen Prothero, a professor of religion at Boston University, pinpointed the problem (emphasis mine):

The great religions have long pursued different goals through different means: Christians sought salvation through faith or works (or some combination thereof), while Buddhists sought nirvana through meditation or chanting. So a century ago jumping from a Catholic Mass to an evangelical revival to a Buddhist retreat would have felt like leaping across vast chasms. But contemporary Americans know almost nothing about their own religious traditions and even less about the traditions of others. Most Americans cannot name any of the Four Gospels, and an overwhelming majority admit to being wholly ignorant of Islam. So we shuffle from one to the other with little sense of what is being lost (or gained) in the process.

How I resonate with that last sentence! In the course of the years I was away from the Catholic Church, I was a member of: a Presbyterian church, a Baptist church, the Vineyard Christian Fellowship, and a charismatic, prophetic church. Within each church, I sought to deepen my faith, grow closer to God, and serve others. I did gain much, but yet was I really gaining something new or simply acquiring what my Catholicism already possessed, unbeknownst to me? I believe now it was the latter.

I struggle with feelings of bitterness toward the Second Vatican because I know I'm not the only one who has been affected negatively by it. So many Catholics my age left the Church in the 70's and 80's because what we were given was a pale representation of our true faith. Think of this: our Catholic faith, which had stood firm for hundreds of years - providing spiritual nourishment to some of the greatest individuals who ever walked this earth, creating amazing institutions such as schools, universities, and hospitals, this faith that has such an honorable heritage in history; has been relegated to a political machine. Those of us who know our faith understand that this world is passing away - including all the political machinations it has borne. True security only lies within our relationship with God. That sacred relationship is protected and educated by the Catholic Church. Take the word sacrament. It is a Middle English word, from Anglo-French and the Latin word, sacramentum, which means: oath of allegiance, obligation, from sacrare to consecrate.

So not only do we revere and worship the consecration of the bread and wine into the Real Presence of Christ, we ourselves are being consecrated through the sacraments of the Church. We are taking an oath of allegiance to our God and accepting an obligation to be the Body of Christ on earth. When you really, really think of the profound meaning of this sacred relationship, it should give you pause.

Now where has this understanding been taught? Within a Mass that has huge puppets bouncing down the aisle? From rainbow banners thrown festively around "the supper table" altar? From Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion dressed as devils and witches for a Halloween Mass? No, no, and no.

We have lost the sense of the sacred relationship we have with God through the power of the Holy Spirit and the sacrifice of His Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. This is why I believe there is a resurgence with the Traditional Latin Mass. There are more and more Catholics who are starting to wake up and say, "Wait a minute. I need the sacred in my life. My relationship with God isn't the equivalent of attending a circus. What is needed is reverence, silence, and pauses to ponder the greatness and awesome glory of God." What the Second Vatican Council did was bring the worship of God to the level of consumerism instead of lifting us up to the level of holiness. Only when we behold God in all of His glory, are we transformed. This doesn't happen when a priest is dressed as a clown.

Style will always be up for grabs and fodder for endless committee meetings. What the Catholic Church needs now more than ever is clarity, a strongly defined identity, and a re-embracing of our clear mission. Jesus Christ never said that making disciples would be easy. But He was clear on this: We are to teach what He has commanded. Not what godless political machines think we should teach.

The Timelessness of the Mass

But what was "this" that Jesus had commanded his apostles to "do" in his remembrance? To understand his action - and the action of the Mass - requires some knowledge of the worship of the Jews in Jesus' time. For the early Christians believed Jesus' Last Supper - and in turn, the Mass - to be the culmination of all the worship of ancient Israel.

- The Mass of the Early Christians, Mikc Aquilina

When I read that word, "worship," I immediately thought about the typical church service today. Worship is a noun that is oftentimes misunderstood. What most churches experience during that time which proceeds the sermon is praise. A few songs are sung (and admittedly, half-heartedly more often than not), then the children are dismissed for "children's church", then announcements and some teaching. What passes as worship for most people is relegated to a few upbeat tunes and if you have a great worship team (or praise team), applause afterward.

So what is worship?

Worship is different from praise. Praise can be easily given to a delicious meal as well as a person. Praise is expressing a favorable judgement of something or as an intransitive verb, glorifies, especially by attribution of perfection. (Source: Merriam-Webster online dictionary.) But worship is something different and I think most people would agree that to worship God as opposed to praising Him, requires one to go much deeper than catchy tunes.

Worship is slowly descending into the hiddeness of the soul, the place where you are the core of who you are, and meeting God. It is the place where you approach His throne "boldly" (according to St. Paul in Ephesians 3:12) but yet with solemn awareness, as you would in approaching Niagara Falls. The roar of those waters - the magnitude of power behind the force - causes everyone to take a slight intake of breath as they contemplate the grandeur and complete audacity of nature, God's handiwork.

That is what I'm reminded of when I think of worship and God. There is a magnitude of His provision in Jesus Christ that is awesome, fearful, and just plain "turns-my-world-inside-outness." To contemplate on His mercy, His divine judgement, and His extreme love would cause any thinking man or woman to fall upon their knees and worship Him.

But how can we contemplate such greatness, such supremacy when there is so much noise? A person here leads the congregation to "practice" a response, a large band there blasts out music at high decibels. Weary spiritual leaders fast-forward through their words in order to get everyone out "on time." There is a constant thrust to it all, as though we had some gigantic hand pressed upon our backs, scooting us through a church service so we can get to the more important things of life - like lunch at the food court inside some crowded mall. (Which, of course, has more noise.)

Worship is reverent. And what is reverence? Honor and respect. I'll go so far as to say reverence is acknowledging that someone exhibits traits that I wished I had but don't. Or I may not have it to the degree to which I desire. For God, it is honoring and respecting His "otherness." He is separate, holy - and we only may approach that holiness upon the bridge Christ has built.

These types of thoughts do not come easily. In fact, there is a great deal of opposition to having such thoughts. Once you sit down for a church service, how many times does your mind start racing to what you need to do after the service? Or during the upcoming week? How many times are you annoyed with the family next to you that can't control their kids or the young people sitting behind you talking incessantly? There are barriers - constant barriers to clear in order to enter into worship of God.

This is one of the reasons I have gravitated toward the Traditional Latin Mass. As I've said often to my family and friends - no one could be more surprised than I that I've come to quickly love this type of Mass. But one of the reasons (and it's a mighty big one, at that) is because there is silence built into the Mass. It gives me time to contemplate God's holiness and His amazing love for us. I can ponder what Christ did for us when He willingly gave Himself up to pay the price of sin. It is in those moments of silence that I can confess to Almighty God my own sin and give Him thanksgiving for forgiveness.

I'll be curious to see what Mike Aquilina has to say about the altar of Israel. There is a great deal of Judaic protocol in the liturgy. After all, Jesus and His disciples were Jewish, so it only stands to reason there would be Jewish elements in the liturgy.

More thoughts on this will follow. I just wanted to share these with you today. May He continue to lead all of us into a deeper understanding of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.