milestones

Milestones

Everyone has a different journey towards their faith, a sort of "how-I-got-to-know-my-religion-better" story. Here is mine.

The more I talk to Fr. Francis at the Newman Centre, the more I like him. He’s the most accessible man of any priest (especially) that I know. He’s easy to talk to about any given topic and his beliefs and sermons are not so lofty that they cannot be seen from the ground. His sermons I enjoy especially. They are conversations, not lectures. They are words spoken from the intellect, an intellect that has studied, understands both by faith and by logic, his religion. It is not tired, dried-and-cut words that must be said and thought out every Sunday, but presentation carefully researched and backed by quotes and stories. Much as Jesus taught a long time ago.
Because of Fr. Francis, I kept going back to Newman. Some Sundays, it was an ordeal to get up and go to Mass, but that is the weakness of the human spirit and a girl who is not a morning person. My first impression was that he was a far cry from the parish priest back home where I attend Mass during the summer. That man was very dry. I always viewed him as a Prime Minister. Someone who was just there. He knew your face, and he was always cordial in saying hello, but beyond that, I didn’t know him at all. Only a few people did. His sermons were basically a repetition of the readings in his own words. No further explanation or interpretation, just a verbatim reading. On occasion, if the bishop or the Pope wrote a letter to the parish, he would read that to us as well. I must admit that when he did actually try interpreting the readings, he would often take things too literally. I rarely agreed with his point of view.
For a long while, I never really knew if this was "bad faith" on my part. I assumed it was, since I was taught that the priest is the closest man to God. And the sermon is basically a speech inspired by God.
There had been a different priest before, but I was too young then to really listen to and understand the sermons.
Now, I have learned that it may not necessarily have been me, but the priest himself. Everything anyone really experiences of the faith comes from the preacher, be it teacher or priest or what have you. If he or she was not blessed with the gift of innovation and good speech techniques, then (s)he will be uninspiring.
Fr. Francis is anything but, as is Fr. Felix. The one sermon that he did that will always stand out in my mind was very simple in concept. He took out a small transistor radio and began at the beginning. How does it work? You turn it on. Yes, but all you get is static. Turn the dial; tune into a station, and you begin to hear a voice or voices speaking to you through it. That is fine, but if you leave it on all day, the batteries will run out. There’s a plug in the back. Plug it into the wall outlet, then it will not run out.
The concepts are simple. But what do they mean? Imagine that you are a listener, and your faith is your radio. Turn it on! Excite yourself and interest yourself in this wonderful thing! Tune into it! Find out more about it! What station is it on? What can you learn from it? Revel in what you learn and what you believe! But many, especially those who, like me, were raised as Catholics never really question the Bible, the faith. We are ignorant. Some even go to church because their parents make them. They are "bad" if they don’t go. So these people run on battery power. Their faith is not strong and can be snuffed out quite easily. Plug in to God! Pray to Him! Talk to Him and research! Always try and find out more about your faith. You cannot believe in what you do not know enough about. If your faith is ever shaken, then it will be easily lost.
That sermon really got me thinking. I don’t know God. I have been searching for Him for the past five years. So much of what I believe to be true does not coincide 100% with the Catholic faith. Is it the wrong religion for me? Am I a "bad" Christian? I didn’t know. I went to church, but I never really understood what was going on. I said all the creeds, but I know them so well, I can say them automatically, without thinking. I endured the sermons, occasionally letting my mind wander, not taking in much of anything. The only thing I ever truly enjoyed was the hymns. Those, I paid attention to and sang along with conviction. It eventually got to the point where I think I lost God altogether in the Mass. The hymns became really cool and beautiful songs. That’s all. The only time I prayed to God was when I had to get through an exam I hadn’t prepared well for the night before. And grace before meals because I had to. And sometimes, I even forgot.
Then I came to McGill. I started feeling happiness again after a three year period of repression. Everything was beautiful. I thought perhaps God was still there somewhere with me, but I didn’t really think about it much. All I knew was that I was happy again for the first time in a long time.
My parents came with me to Montreal and stayed a week. We went to mass together at Marie, Reine de la Monde. It was all in French, but I understood some of it. My parents understood nothing at all. I wondered at that. Apparently, mom thought that it didn’t matter whether you understood mass or not, just so long as you went. You needn’t get anything out of it, but you have a place to reflect by yourself, if you wish, I suppose.
After they left, I went one or two more times. Then, I stopped going to church altogether. Mother found out about this, and she was upset about it. She urged me to go again, and I did. Because I knew myself well enough to know I wouldn’t have the will-power to get up ion the morning, I went to church with a friend who was Christian, but not Catholic. I figured it was all the same.
Then I told mom when she asked me if I was going. She was even more upset. I asked why, but the only thing she would say was that it was not how she had promised God she would raise me. I was confused. Don’t all Christians believe in the same thing? Isn’t it just the method of worship that was entirely different? How can it be so bad if I go to a worship that is not of a catholic type? Dad went on and on about being careful that they would "convert" me. I didn’t understand that either. How can they "convert" to something I already believe in? The church was not a cult! It wasn’t a "flower power" thing that fed the leader. It was genuine worship. Wasn’t it? It was different, but that doesn’t make it bad, does it?
Nonetheless, to make my parents more at ease in their thoughts, I started by going to the St. Patrick’s Basilica after Christmas. It was a beautiful place with a beautiful mass. I couldn’t always hear everything the priest was saying., but I enjoyed it somewhat. It was then I started thinking about the whole religion thing again in earnest. What did I believe? What was the role God was supposed to play in my life? What was Jesus?
For the first time in my life, I began to pray before mass, mainly because this was the only time I could ever really pray for as long as I wanted. I began merely by thanking God. Thanking Him for all the beautiful things I had. My new-found freedom and happiness, my uplifted spirit, my wonderful new friends, everything. I asked for things too. I asked for a better understanding. I wanted to "join the fold" again. I was a "lost lamb" that ached to be found. I prayed that He might guide me and bring me back to Him.
I began exploring my thoughts. I became more familiar with the things I had always believed, but had taken for granted. I became friends with people of other religious groups. They talked about their religions to me, and I listened and learned a little bit about them. All the while, it helped me take another step towards what I truly believed. One night, I came to a startling conclusion that had , I suppose, always been at the back of my mind, but I had never fully realized before. All religions (except perhaps for Satanism) were basically and fundamentally the same! They called the deity by different names, some religions even split up the deity into many different ones (or joined them all into one if you want to look at it that way), and found different ways to worship. But the lessons, the goals were all essentially the same! So I was not wrong in going to my friend’s other church. In fact, I could return there if I wanted to. It was all the same in God’s eyes. So long as you find some way to worship and follow His guidelines towards becoming a better person, you were still with God (or whatever else you may want to name him). Given that converting to a different religion is still a major decision. After all, sometimes, you need a whole new psychology in learning and accepting things that you may not be used to. But all the same, no matter what, you’re with God.
This was an epiphany for me, really. It began my faith again in full force. I loved God and thanked Him everyday for everything I had and was. The friend that brought me to the other church gave a me a copy of the forward she had on her wall at my request. It basically said that unless you allow yourself to be loved by God and God alone, when you are sure of your faith and strong in it. Only then will He give you the one True Love that will personify in the flesh the love that God bears for you. I had been searching for someone to love who would love me in return, and sometimes, when you search like that, you are in turmoil. I read that and was at peace. I loved God and I felt an ecstasy in my spirit that had never been there before. It is like your spirit is lifted up and up and you feel like you’re soaring even when your feet are firmly planted on the ground.
I used to be paranoid. Now, I believe that God walks in front of my as my guide, behind me as my protector and beside me as my friend. There is new-found confidence in me. I started skipping sometimes when I felt high enough and laughed and sang every time I walked anywhere.
Still my faith was incomplete. I loved God and I was at peace with myself, but I still didn’t know God very well.
Then I came to Newman. The first thing that happened : the choir played my 2 favorite hymns. It was like God saying, "This is where you can learn and be with me. This, this is the place!" Then I heard Fr. Francis speak for the first time. It was beautiful. I cannot remember what it was about now, but I remember him reading a story about a gardener who became the king’s advisor. He lived in a tower room and no one knew what was in there except him. Some men were jealous and wanted to find out what was in there. They thought that he had been stealing gold from the king and wanted to see if he had hidden it in his room. They found nothing but a bed, an old ragged cloak and a stick. These, he explained, were to remind him, no matter how high he rose in life, about his humble beginnings and to remain humble. After all, he was no better than those beneath him in rank. I found it moving, and I knew this was where I wanted to be. For the first time, I could listen to a sermon and not be fighting it with my mind. It was a lovely feeling.
The other thing that struck me in my third or fourth time at the Newman Centre was the music leader. He was a very passionate man when it came to religion. Sometimes, I saw him shake from the pure passion that he experienced during the mass. Sometimes, he would cry out softly, "Amen" or the like when the prayers were particularly moving or he agreed with them. Sometimes he became so wrapped up in the meditation that he forgot to play. Once, I saw him weep during the Eucharist. He didn’t baffle me, but rather, I was filled with awe at the mere sight of this incredible faith and passion. I wanted to be able to experience some of that. To have a love so deep and profound for God that it shakes your very core. To believe in God with all your heart and soul and put all your faith in him.
To love God is to love yourself. To be in tune with God is to be in tune with yourself. This I truly believe, and I think that my self searching and soul searching are fully connected to each other. I feel an utter peace inside myself, and I can only think that welcoming God back into my life had something to do with that.
I still don’t know enough about religion. My boyfriend is thinking of converting to Wicca. Sometimes, I feel my faith shaken a little because the little I know about it sounds very beautiful and appealing. It follows along the same lines as Christianity but with a different name for the deity. It has to do with auras with knowing about yourself. I want to be in tune with my body and soul. If this the way to go? Can I be Catholic and Wiccan all at once? Do I have to be?
Sometimes, I think that I have basically taken the religion I was brought up with, and I have added other beliefs to it and changed it and molded it until it has become my own. It is not pure Catholicism, but not really pure anything else either. I still have much to learn, but my journey is not over yet!

Feb 16, 1997

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