Conversio

Oh, hi.

2005-07-01T09:43:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the lapse. Lately I've been suffering from overwork, pressing decisions about my future, and intellectual laziness.

Ugh.

2005-06-04T18:42:00.000-07:00

At the risk of sounding too epigramist, I really must say that no one who has ever worked in retail can doubt the fallen nature of man.

Shocking!

2005-06-03T22:56:00.000-07:00

The sentence "Let women be priests" appeared this week in my diocese's newspaper.

The quote in question appeared in an article about local Catholic schoolchildren's reaction to the papal election, in response to a question about what the children hoped Pope Benedict XVI would do for the Church. The speaker of the quote was in 2nd grade. The quotes from other children were all sweetness and piety, but who is this renegade grammar school heretic? The brainwashed product of insane "progressives" planted in the Catholic school system to shake things up from the inside?

I doubt it. Chances are, she's just a kid, who can't yet understand why this particular doctrine exists. I certainly couldn't have at that age. It would have been hard to understand why it's ok to say that girl's can't grow up to be priests, when it's not ok to say that about any other job.

I was pretty surprised that they printed it in my diocesan newspaper, which genrally prefers to ignore controversy.

Artist of the Moment: Weyden

2005-05-31T09:33:00.000-07:00

Rogier van der Weyden (1400-1464), Flemish (naturally)

Crucifixion Diptych: left panel right panel
You should really go to the Philadelphia Musuem of Art and see this in all its glory. In person, it's completely absorbing.

The Saint Columda Altarpiece: left panel
I need to investigate this thing with having Our Lady with a book in her hand during the Annunciation. Weyden himself does this more then once.

Norvus Or-Don't!

2005-05-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

There were acoustic guitars in my parish this Sunday. Two of them! Playing! During the Mass!

My problem isn't so much the insturments themselves, which I could deal with. It was the absurd psuedo-poppy music they played. If they played the same music we usually use, I would have hardly noticed it. But as it was, they played ridiculous arrangements that had the whole congregation tripping over themselves trying to sing along to songs we sing every week, like the Agnus Dei.

It's distracting and it's also just bad music. We have a nice organ, a fine piano, good cantors and a great choir. We do not need to mess around with this nonsense. It's too watered down and awful for 'the young people' to enjoy it, so if that's what they're going for, they missed the mark seriously.

Amusingly enough, the priest serving this particular Mass was Father B., by far the most traditional (and youngest) priest in my parish. Hearing him solemenly chanting, followed by a chorus of aaaaaa-mens from the folk folks was akin to seeing the Jesus Inside logo set in a stained glass window.

Come, Holy Spirit

2005-05-15T21:57:00.000-07:00

The Golden Sequence was honestly one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard.

One of the best things about being a convert is discovering the beauty of the liturgy for the first time.

The Mysteries of Kitsch

2005-05-14T15:47:00.000-07:00

Catholicism is an endless mystery to me. How the same tradition produced both Gaudi and fiber optic statues of Our Lady is at times as baffling as the Trinity.

That particular statue, I must admit, is not the best fiber optic Virgin Mary statue I've seen. It looks more like a slightly altered statue of Kwan Yin. One day I'll have to bring my camera to capture some of majesty on display at my local flea market.

Today is the first day of the rest of my eternity

2005-05-12T21:41:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was the last meeting of my RCIA class. I don't think it's really sunk it yet: both the fact that I have nothing to do on Tuesdays, and that I'm now being Catholic without a net.

Fortunately, I found a fantastic young adult group in my diocese. It's run by an interesting and intellectual priest who seems to be very good at being relevant to younger Catholics without slipping into Busted Halo-style psuedo-hip nonsense. That sort of thing sets my teeth on edge. He's unapologetically orthodox and tradtional, which is good for me. I need a challange to keep me from slipping into complacency.

Funny, because it's true.

2005-04-29T07:04:00.000-07:00

A work of terrible genius: the All-Knowing Papal Critque-o-matic 3000!

Keep refreshing, and you just might see Richard John Neuhaus refered to as a "disgruntled handpuppet."

C/O The Japery

Geek for God.

2005-04-27T06:57:00.000-07:00

I have an amazing capacity for obsession. I come from a long line of geeks, and by either nature or nurture, I inherited the tendency to have my thoughts taken over by one thing. True to geek form, this was always something rather trite. The X-Files, for instance, dominated my thoughts and life for the better part of three years. There were other, higher ones, like W.H. Auden, but overall, my obsessions have been restricted to TV shows and maudlin rock musicians.

When I started on my conversion, I decided to stop all that. I made a promise to God that I would offer all the energy I had wasted to him.

I was inspired, in part, by a story I read once that was meant to illustrate the Hindu concept of Bhakti Marg, or the way to god through love: a man loved his wife very much, but he was smothering her. He was obsessively keeping track of where she was at all times, showering her with gifts, and thinking about her incessantly. She finally said to him, "If you loved God the way you love me, you'd be the holiest man alive."

I figured that if I loved God the way I loved X-Files, I'd be on the right track.

The other day I was talking to a friend I haven't spoken with in a while. Knowing me rather well, she asked what I was obsessed with this month. I thought for a moment, and then I realized: Catholicism. I am obsessed with Catholicism.

I have other interests, to be sure, but no obsession except God and the Church. How did I do this?

I didn't. It was God taking root in my heart. All I did was ask.

Research, anyone?

2005-04-21T19:45:00.000-07:00

Ok, instead of even trying to be an apologist, I think I'm just going to make copies of Interreligious Dialouge and Jewish-Christian Relations and distribute it to all those who tell me Pope Benedict XVI is a Nazi-fascist-right-wing-hard-liner. It would be nice if his dissenters would do as much research into him as his fans. Then I have a feeling there would be more of the later and less of the former.

"The religions can encounter one another only by delving more deeply into the truth, not by giving it up. Skepticism does not unite. Nor does sheer pragmatism. Both are simply an opening for ideologies, which then step in with all the more self-assurance. The renunciation of truth and conviction does not elevate man, but exposes him to the calculus of utility and robs him of his greatness. What is required, however, is reverence for the other’s belief, along with the willingness to seek truth in what I find alien—a truth that concerns me and that can correct me and lead me further."

Beautiful.

Geek out.

2005-04-20T07:16:00.000-07:00

Oh, man! Hours of fun- Communio has thoughtfully provided a smattering of then-Cardinal Ratzinger's articles in PDF format.

Wow!

2005-04-20T06:50:00.000-07:00

I literally screeched "RATZINGER!!" at my TV screen yesterday.

Screech in a good way, but with reservations built in. I know I'll have to flex my weak apologist muscles to their breaking point in the upcoming days, as the Resident Catholic at my job.

All I have to say is....

2005-04-06T07:40:00.000-07:00

I am so glad I was able to become Catholic during the pontificate of John Paul II.

A Paring Knife to the Heart

2005-04-01T07:09:00.000-08:00

I think I can say that the Triduum, particularly the Easter Vigil, was the single most beautiful experience of my life. The Easter Vigil is when canidates going through the Rite of Christian Initation for Adults recieve first Communion, and if nessecary, Baptism and Confirmation. It is the moment when we become Neophytes. It is when we become in communion, with the Church and with God.

For the first time in my life, I think I really understand what people mean by "born-again." The word carries a lot of connotations that don't fit, but a great deal more that do. I feel as though I have a new life that God handed to me. This time, I will not waste that gift. I will use it to its fullest potential.

I may have this new life, but the old one is not entirely dead yet. I don't want to change, of course. It's painful, to have pieces of me that I thought were the core of my being ripped out. But it's nessecary, it's essential. God does not want me to change solely to prove how much I love him. He wants me to change because sin is not good for me.

I think a lot of my friends pity me for my religiousness; they don't understand why I 'limit' myself by trying to follow God's will. What they don't get is that yes, it's a struggle to obey, but it's also a joy.

Oh, dear.

2005-03-23T07:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I found out that my church doesn't have confessionals. They have "Reconciliation Rooms". I will be face to face with the priest when I confess.

Just when I was getting comfortable and feeling ready. Now the whole thing has opened up again.

Feeling Versus Doing

2005-03-21T07:35:00.000-08:00

It's Holy Week. On Saturday, I'll take the Eucharist.

I feel like I should feel different, more pure and more ready.

The hardest thing I've had to learn during this process has been that even if I don't feel something, I need to do it anyway. I need to pray everyday, even if I feel like I'm talking to myself. I need to read the Bible, even if the words seem empty. I need to be kind, even when all I want to do is spit in my customer's coffee and scream at my co-workers. And most of all, I need to go to Mass, even when I'm tired and crabby.

When the feeling doesn't come first, the action can bring it. Last Sunday, I was exhausted, I had a cold, and I had worked until 1 AM the night before. I did not want to go to Mass, at all. But I got up, I did it. While the priest was preparing the Eucharist, and we were singing "Lamb of God", by far my favorite song we sing, I burst into tears. I'm not much of a crier, and certainly not in public. But I could not stop weeping. Something about the words of the song got into me. I think it was the realization that yes, yes, He is the Lamb of God and I need His mercy. I believed these things before, but for the first time, I felt it almost physically inside the chambers of my heart.

I hope that something similar happens on Saturday. I just hope I don't cry too hard. I am still not entirely over embarassment.

Schlocking towards Bethlehem

2005-03-11T07:23:00.000-08:00

Constantine is not a particularly good movie. It's certainly not a theologically sound movie. And yet somehow, it turned into a profound religious experience for me.

In Constantine, the main character is a man who committed suicide as a teenager. He went to hell, but was revived after two minutes, and now lives convinced of his own damnation while simultaneously trying to buy his way back into heaven by battling demons. I literally cried through the entire second half of the movie, which is ridiculous. I never, ever cry at movies.

For the past few weeks, I've accounting for my sins. I've made lists, I've prayed for guidance, I've contemplated all the lies I've told and that bagel I ate at work last week that I never paid for. Through all of this I'd missed the biggest sin I ever committed, a sin so great that it may have damaged me physically and spiritually for the rest of my life. I forgot about the suicide attempt.

How could I forget about this? Maybe it was because I considered it a symptom of my depression, and therefore didn't consider it a sin. The more likely explanation, however, is that I knew that repenting for this particular sin would be really, really painful, and I just didn't want to deal with it.

Somehow this movie shocked me into recognizing the enormity of this sin I have on my chest. For the first time, I truly realized that if I had died that day, I would have gone to hell. There is a rift between me and God that I have not even begun to repair. If it was possible to go to confession at 10:30 on a Tuesday night, I would have been there the moment the movie let out.

All this thanks to a movie starring Keanu Reeves. Like the movie says, He works in mysterious ways.

Penance.

2005-03-02T07:32:00.000-08:00

I'm very nervous about Penance. In some ways, confessing is going to be the hardest thing I do in this journey. I've peppered my RCIA leaders with questions about it, asking if I have to confess all my sins I've ever committed, but that's really a cover. In my heart, I know what sins I need to confess. I just don't want to do it.

My biggest sins are not against other people, although I certainly have plenty of those. I honestly don't think I have sinned mortally against another person; my mortal sins all seem to be against myself and God.

The problem with preparing myself for confession is keeping despair away. Taking stock of my sins is important, but it's hard and occasionally I feel overwhelmed. I feel like there is nothing I can do to atone for these things, and then I remember that yes, that's true, and it's the whole point of this Christian thing. Someone else did it for me.

Thelemites vs. Pantagruelists in a vicious fight for custody of F. Rabelais

2005-02-23T07:00:00.000-08:00

If I lived in a magical world where I could write papers on anything I wanted with infinate time and talent to aid me, I'd write something on Rabelais' influence, particularly on the Thelemites (occultists who consider Rabelais a saint) and that most fantastic of Christian journals, the New Pantagruel.

But, alas, I am stuck in Gaul with Caesar, possibly for the rest of my earthly life.

Burn, baby.

2005-02-22T09:05:00.000-08:00

I think I'm going to buy this for myself as a confirmation present.

I'll consider it a little reminder of the heresy I need to fry out of my own heart.

a saint's name for a sinner

2005-02-21T07:20:00.000-08:00

I suspect I've given a little too much thought to my confirmation name. I love naming things, myself in particular. I have a million and a half nicknames, fake names, noms-de-plume for banal things (like a blog, for instance); it's only fitting that I devout a lot of thought to a name that marks something as important as my conversion.

Before I made my Protestant-style confirmation in 8th grade, I decided that my confirmation name would be Joan. Of course, I was crushed to learn that Protestants don't pick confirmation names, and what's more, they don't honor saints. Saint Joan was my favorite saint for years. She is sort of the unoffical patron of weird young girls.

I tend to have an affinity for female saints who do strange things and who have a vicious, tough, mystical kind of faith. I don't like the name Joan anymore, and Joan was a warrior, something I am most certainly not. Saint Afra (that's her to the right) is the patroness of converts, but there's not enough information about her. I have to really love a saint's life to love her.

In the end, it has come down to Teresa of Avila versus Christina the Atonishing. St. Teresa's writings are some of the most meaningful writings outside of the Bible to my religious life. Christina, on the other hand, is just fascinating. The embodiment of vicious faith and possibly insane, she seems a strange choice to honor. Some will suspect I picked her because Nick Cave wrote a song about her, and they'd be right, sort of. I knew of her from the song, and I became mildly fascinated with her, reading what little I could find. Then, the first time I went to Mass by myself, on All Saint's Day in 2002, the homily was about her. I considered it a sign and I kept going.

Of course, it may, in the end, come down to the fact that I just like the name Christina better.

In which I calm down.

2005-02-11T06:57:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, I'll undergo the Rite of Election. I am, actually, less frightened about this particular event then I was about the Rite of Acceptance. I'm feeling much more calm about the whole thing, largely because I've come to realize that it's ok to be uncertain.

I know my faith is incomplete. I do not agree with the Church in every single matter, I have doubts and temptations a-plenty. But that's ok, and it's ok because I recognize it and I am working to change it. I am not secure in my beliefs anymore, which is a step in the right direction, because that security was based on stubborness and arrogance. When I was secure, I believed what I believed so strongly I ignored the truth.

To be 'poor in spirit' as it says in the First Beatitude is to accept that I myself can not make my faith complete. Only God can do that, by His grace.

Kids Love Lent.

2005-02-07T08:38:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I lived a heavily Catholic area. I was one of only a handful of Protestant kids who didn't get a fancy party when they were 6. On Ash Wednesday, my best friend (a Baptist) and I would rub pencil lead on our thumbs and make crosses on our foreheads. I would give up things for Lent in spite of my mother's insistance that 'we' don't do that.

And now, this year, I get to do it for real. Yay!

I'm giving up soda. I've changed much less since fourth grade then I'd care to admit.

The Rite of Acceptance.

2005-02-02T07:20:00.000-08:00

My mother's commentary on the Rite of Acceptance: "That was so Catholic."

My mother, incidentally, is so Protestant. She's more then a bit put off by liturgy and fails to understand why Catholic's don't print the order of worship in the bulletin like they do in most Prostestant churches. And oh, there was liturgy aplenty this week.

The ritual itself was beautiful. At the beginning of the Mass, I and my fellow canidates waited in the vestibul. The Monsignor called us literally into the sanctuary, and our sponsors introduced us to the congregation one by one. Then we went to the front of the church, and we were presented with a Bible and a cross. Our sponsors made the sign of the cross over our hands, mouth, heart, etc, even our feet.

I am an extremely private, quiet person, not the sort to usually stand in front of 500 people for any reason and I was terrified. I would rather slink into the background, sit in the back of the church like I usually do. Standing in front of everyone and having myself named and singled out was horrifying in concept. I felt exposed and extremely raw.

But of course, what I got out of the ritual wouldn't have been possible without being exposed. For the first time, really, since I started attending the church, I feel like I belong there. I'm not just some random girl who comes every week that everyone has to climb over to get to communion. I am a member.

After the Mass, the candiates all stood in the vestibule and as the congregation left, most of them shook our hands, introduced themselves and congratulated us. They know me know, who I am and why I am here.

I fear being known. I prefer solitude to community. This , though, is directly opposed to what I need spiritually. I need to be a part of this community, this parish, and this Church. I won't become nearer to God if I stay only in my comfort zone.

Unity and You.

2005-01-24T07:07:00.000-08:00

So, this week is the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Essentially, the idea is to celebrate the unity of all Christian churches and not to dwell on the differences. This year's theme is centered around the metaphor Paul uses in 1 Corinthians: the foundation of all churches is laid by Christ, and the churches themselves are what we build upon that foundation.

The assumption by non-Catholics is that Catholics pray for unity by praying for all Christians to become Catholic. This is not my experience. Read the service for this year; it seems fairly clear to me that the Church considers herself one of the buildings built upon that foundation. The 'unity' in question is not a literal unityin that We are all not going to become one church(meaning the Church), but we are to acknowledge that we are already one church. The Church is part of that larger church. Basically, big C Catholicism is part of the little c catholic church, the world-wide Body of Christ.

Now, doctrinally, yes, the Church considers herself the purest expression of that catholic church. But the Catholics I know, including the Monsignor at my parish and the team running my RCIA program, haven't expressed that to me. We are all baptised, and therefore we are all called to be holy. How equally each denomination has access to holiness is, I think, a matter of personal opinion. I think it's equally distributed on an indivual basis, meaning that for me, Catholicism brings me closest to God, while for others, it's Baptist or Lutheran practice.

Now, as for other religions, that's another matter, and another post. But let me just say that I am cross-religiously ecumenical. Does that make me a bad Catholic? I really don't think so. More on that later.

2005-01-22T09:15:00.000-08:00

Next Sunday, I'll undergo the Rite of Acceptance. I'll be introduced to the parish and accepted as a sort-of member.

I'm so terrified. The actual, public steps of my conversion are getting closer, and it's getting harder to pretend to myself that this change is about more then what I do on Sunday mornings.

I feel myself changing. The way I make moral decisions is different now from what it was 6 months ago. In fact, I actually view more things as moral decisions, rather then just doing what is easiest. Some of this change isn't scary: I'm more ethusiastic about my volunteer work, for instance. Some of it makes me nervous, but mostly I am afraid of the changes to come.

I'm afraid that I am going to become overly serious, that one day I'll wake up and condemn Jesus of the Week, for instance, as disrespectful abomination (as opposed to mildly disrespectful hilarity). I'm afraid I'll start being judgemental and dogmatic. I'm afraid I'll start making my political decisions based upon what the Vatican says is OK. I'm afraid I'll start defending the Church even when what it does is wrong.

I'm afraid that all of these fears makes me unfit to be a Catholic. I'm afraid these fears are not going to go away.

Welcome back to me.

2005-01-21T07:19:00.000-08:00

Wow, can it really be I haven't posted since the Immaculate Conception? Shortly before Christmas, my computer, a long suffering little Dell, finally collapsed, and I haven't had the wherewithal to have it fixed yet. Now the semester has begun again, so I'll have free and easy access to the college computer lab.

Religiously speaking, this Christmas was frustrating, thanks to the fact that I work in retail. Nothing can kill Christmas spirit like the irate nouveau riche screaming at me for 8 hours on Christmas Eve. The midnight mass service was amazing, though. It was officiated by my favorite priest at my parish (is it fair to have a favorite priest? Probably not) and the atmosphere was provided by a beautiful string quartet and lots and lots of incense.

The last few weeks have been a blur of Ordinary Time and gearing up for the semester, but everything came into sharp, painful focus last week when I found out the date and time I will be going through the Rite of Acceptance.

But that deserves it's own post, don't you think? Welcome back, to me, and here's to hoping I can actually keep this blog a float against the overwhelming tide of computer troubles.

The Immaculate Conception

2004-12-09T20:34:00.000-08:00

Last night we celebrated the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Until Tuesday night, I thought that this referred to Mary's conception of Jesus, and according to Father M.'s homily, so do most Catholics. In actuality, it refers to Mary's own conception and the fact that she was born without original sin.

This Mass was unusually beautiful to me, because it was so focused on Our Lady. Devotion to Mary was one of the things that attracted me to the Church in the first place. I was raised in the sort of Protestant denominations that consider veneration of Mary to be idol worship, very Jack Chick's Why is Mary Crying?, although less extreme.

Mary imagery always attracted me, though. As a kid, I didn't really understand why we Protestants did revere Mary; it seemed pretty obvious. She was Jesus' mother after all. She may not have 'created' Him, but she raised Him.

When I doubt Mary and her specialness, I remember something Beverly Donofrio said about her in Looking for Mary: the Disciples were constantly amazed by the miracles Jesus performed, but Mary was never surprised by Him. She was his mother; she knew Him better then anyone. Sinless or no, that has got to be worth venerating.

Damnation/Salvation

2004-12-07T20:40:00.000-08:00

Tonight in RCIA, we talked about hell and salvation. Of course, this is something I've given a lot of thought o recently, particularly in regards to my conversion.

I have no problem whatsoever admitting that there are aspects of the faith I am not sure about. One of these things is the idea of salvation.

I am not converting to get into heaven. I'd like to go to heaven, I mean, who doesn't? Assuming heaven exists, one would want to go there as a matter of course. But there is a problem with interpreting salvation (or damnation) as taking place only upon one's death: it focuses on the destination at the expense of the journey.

For clarity, let's define damnation as separation from God, and therefore salvation would be closeness to Him. The logical conclusion of damnation is hell, complete separation and the logical conclusion of salvation is heaven, complete communion.

These things do not just exist at our deaths, they are present in our lives. I am converting because for whatever reason, the practice of Catholicism has brought me closer to God. It has brought me salvation already, in my life. And I don't even take Communion yet!

C.S. Lewis said that after you die, you just keep being who you are forever. For some people it's hell, and for some people it's heaven. I think the seed of conversion was in my heart years ago when I first heard that and realized that if that were true, I would most certainly be in hell.

This is where it gets sticky, though. I can say without a doubt that the Church brings me closer to God. However, I don't know if it follows therefore that the Church and only the Church will do the same for everyone, and therefore, I can not say for sure that the Church and only the Church brings salvation.

Heaven will be great, but it's not concrete for me now. It doesn't mean much to me at the moment. But being close to God on Earth- that I can feel. And it's fantastic.

I'm also rather glad for my uncertainty. It keeps me for being a zealot.

The Problem with Christmas

2004-12-05T20:18:00.000-08:00

I love Advent. Anticipation is by far my favorite emotion. The Christmas season, however, needs some work.

I'm not one of those "put the Christ back in Christmas" types; I have no problem with the secular practice of Christmas. If secular Christmas existed in the real world as it does in idealized stories and such, I would be behind it 100%. My problem with Christmas is that, in it's modern practice, it's not about generosity, celebration and our loved ones anymore then it's about the coming of the Christ child.

Of course, I work in retail, and so I see people at the lowest point of their Christmas experience. Sometimes, at the end of the day, it seems to me that people universally hate and resent Christmas shopping, that the holiday is, to most people, nothing more then an insane, stressful burden that brings them no joy and bleeds them of money. It's sad and frustrating.

I don't know. Maybe if the Christ was back in Christmas, there wouldn't be this sense of burden attached to the holiday, but a lot of people more religious then I am seem to have similar problems.

Watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special, people! It contains lessons for us all.

Oh, hello.

2004-12-04T20:07:00.000-08:00

This blog is called Conversio, a Latin word meaning "a turning around." From it's root, we get the English word convert.

I am currently in the process of turning. I am turning from being a non-practicing Protestant to being a devout Catholic. I am turning from a person who is completely incapable of talking about her faith in public to a person who can not shut up about it.

My family and friends are growing tired of my incessant ramblings on the etymology of the word "liturgy" or Marian apparitions. And they have a fair point. There's no reason to bother them. That's why the Good Lord created blogs.

Ash Wednesday

2004-12-03T22:00:00.000-08:00

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
because I do not hope to turn again
Desiring this man's gift or that man's scope.