As I hurried around the house last night gathering the “essentials” (water bottle, books, and a snack to take the place of an uneaten dinner) for helping our two tots remain content during our parish celebration of the Vigil Mass of the Immaculate Conception, my mind wandered back to this same liturgical celebration ten years prior, when in silent prayer after Mass, I believe in the Church, fully and freely.
This happened at St. Patrick Catholic Church, in Fayetteville, NC, in the “old” church (as I suppose it’s now called, as a building campaign kicked off as I was leaving the area). I was sitting on the left side, probably about 8 rows from the front. The sanctuary had a large baptismal font with circulating water on that left side, and in the quiet after Mass, one could hear the water trickling and bubbling. I’d likely come straight from work in military uniform (and one of the delightful things about living in a military town, is that that is normal–nobody looks at you oddly, makes awkward comments, etc.).
I don’t remember anything about the Mass. Nothing about the music. Nothing about the homily. It’s a total blank.
But, what I do remember so well, is that prayer time afterwards. Through the Holy Spirit, I was able to tell God, confidently and with great peace, I believe it is possible. I don’t know why it needs to be, but I believe it is possible.
What was this “it”? In the moment, it was the doctrine of Mary existing without original sin. In retrospect, it was a lot more.
I’d been in a period of great spiritual upheaval for the middle two weeks of November. I’d become convicted (through the Holy Spirit, concretely through the question of a friend) that I needed to decide if what the Catholic Church believed was true. I’d had my initial life-changing conversion into relationship with Jesus Christ about eight years prior, and an experience of joyful consolation and expression of the Holy Spirit five years prior. All of that time, across four states, I’d always found a home in two churches–one a Catholic parish, and the other a Baptist congregation. I was Christian, but was I really Catholic? I didn’t know. And it didn’t bother me, until the Holy Spirit came knocking in force those two weeks.
Okay, so what I had done during those two weeks? Well, I did what any very logical, rational person would do if they suddenly needed to figure out if they were Catholic–I went to the nearest Barnes & Noble book store and picked up the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and decided to read it in prayer, with a notebook in hand to record any objections. It turned out to be a page-turner. I couldn’t wait to get through it and “figure out” what I thought. So what happened? My plan failed (so to speak). Part 1 articulated Christian truth so fully, so in accord with what God had already given me the grace of faith to believe for most of my life as a Mass-going Catholic and intentional disciple since the teenage years, that my notebook of objections didn’t seem to hold weight.
But what to do wasn’t obvious. I experienced my own reality of Simon Peter’s reply to Jesus: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:67-68). I knew in my heart there was nowhere else to go, but I couldn’t “go” because I had that list of objections (it wasn’t a long list, but the Immaculate Conception of Mary was on it). God had showed me my destiny, but how that would be a reality for me, spiritually–on the inside, was not clear.
That spontaneous prayer after Mass a few weeks later showed me the how. Through that graceful gift of faith, I could trust in the Holy Spirit, and that the Holy Spirit makes the Church. I wasn’t in the least bit rationally convinced that God protecting Mary from original sin needed to happen, but I believed that it was possible. And that it was possible that this should be believed. And that this possibility was certain.
Quoting St. Thomas Aquinas and Cardinal John Newman, the Catechism of the Catholic Church (para. 157) explains it this way:
Faith is certain…To be sure, revealed truths can seem obscure to human reason and experience, but “the certainty that the divine light gives is greater than that which the light of natural reason gives.” “Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt.”
And this is what I experienced–albeit in a less formally articulated, Romans 8:26-kind of way. 🙂 It was a moment that I’m extremely grateful for.
So, getting back to last night. When we came home from Mass (in case you were wondering how the water bottle and books worked out–they didn’t prevent us from having to take the younger son out crying, numerous times) I was thinking–hmm, maybe I have some notes on the homily from that night ten years ago.
See, my Christian formation had included being immersed in a culture where people hung on God’s Word. And so taking notes during preaching was something I did at Baptist and Catholic churches alike. I still have my notebooks from most of those years, and so I pulled out the one dated “June 11, 2006 to March 25, 2007” and turned to the first week of December. To my disappointment, no notes from Mass on Dec 8th. But, on December 3rd, something very interesting–a Sunday School teaching (from my Baptist pastor) on a passage from Ecclesiastes. Here are some of my verbatim notes:
- “If we want knowledge to work for us we need to seek it through God.”
- “Why we know is more important than what we know–God gives us knowledge to know of eternity and serve Him accordingly.”
- “Nothing that we can ever know will substitute for the power of God in our life.”
- “What we do with what we know is more important than what we know–we don’t need to know everything about God before we take action on what we do know about God.”
What a discovery! Truly blessed to get a glimpse of how the Holy Spirit was preparing me for the grace and supernatural gift of faith later that week. As the proverbial saying goes, “God writes straight with/through crooked lines” 🙂
Happy Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception! As we pray, I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe in the Church.