Meeting Christ whilst going through the motions

I have now attended three RCIA classes covering such diverse topics as the nature of the Church, the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Healing and Ecumenism. There was, it must be admitted, nothing too challenging or surprising which is probably understandable when almost everyone else on the course is converting due to a spouse or family member who is already a Catholic.

Sometimes it feels like I am only attending to tick all the right boxes, to show willing so I can do what in my heart I know is the right thing. But then I stop and realise that the last eighteen months has meant facing challenges in my own life and issues in my marriage that this has brought to the surface. The specific time since January that I have attended the RCIA group has been an intensive time of self-reflection where I have had to come face-to-face with my own sinfulness and failures, and to bring to the fore those dreams for my life that haven't come true.

Last week I was able to go on a retreat day hosted by our Bishop. The talks were excellent (especially the Bishop's passionate defence of the centrality of the Eucharist) but it was the chance to pray before the sacrament for an hour, thinking through the many heartaches and worries I have, giving them to God and praying for my family and my rather precarious work situation. In the midst of all of these worries I found Christ again, I knew his presence was there; and I knew that, in the end all would be well.

Back on the Journey

It’s been over a year since I last posted. Everything was put on hold just before Christmas in 2012 for some very good reasons.

St Peter's Basilica as painted by Panini

I was diagnosed a while ago with Adult ADD, and one tendency I have is to leap into any activity with plenty of energy, only to see the initial enthusiasm wane quickly. This momentous decision was such that my wife was, quite rightly, concerned that I was doing that again here, and she was particularly worried that I was using the entry through the Ordinariate as a short-cut, bypassing the process of discernment that the conventional RCIA offers. She also, with plenty of justification, felt I wasn’t giving proper consideration to some of her concerns.

I made the decision to slow everything down. In fact, I stopped pushing the issue at all, trusting in the Holy Spirit to work in my heart and in hers. About 2 months ago she came to me and said that if I still felt called to reception in the Catholic Church I should start to explore it again, but that it would be better to go the conventional route. I went back, read through the Compendium to the Catechism again and Evangelii Guardium which had just been released by Pope Francis.

We all visited Mass at one of the local Churches – one that was particularly family-friendly – and I slowly started to talk about some of the things I was thinking about. I made contact with a local priest (not part of the Ordinariate) and we spent time on the phone talking about the practicalities of joining the current RCIA course now. We recently also met-up for a coffee and agreed a provisional way forward.

One thing that I particularly pleased about is that my wife is going to join me in the RCIA classes, partly to walk through the journey with me and partly to help with her own journey.

Eucharist and the Blessed Virgin

There was always something about a liturgical setting for communion. At the Church of England Parish church I sang in as a boy treble, the 'Parish Communion' movement was in full swing and I can still recite both Rite A and Rite B communion services. What I didn't realise is that, thanks to the efforts of ARCIC the Rite A Service, and especially the eucharistic prayer we used, owed an awful lot to the Ordo Missae of the Catholic Church.

During our time attending Charismatic Churches, and especially in Canterbury, we would attend Canterbury Cathedral on high feast days - in particular Easter and Christmas - appreciating the majesty and presence of Christ we found in these times. This is something that came with us when we returned to the Church of England in 2004, armed with a good amount of hurt and pain from a number of tragedies and difficulties. Weeping before Christ during Mass was a healing time, coupled with the caring prayers of a great Anglican priest. As time went on, my vague Lutheran understanding of what happens in the Mass hardened - I saw the importance of the sacramental reality, that Christ was indeed truly present. When I served as Churchwarden for a year, the honour of preparing and handling the bread and wine was the most precious part of that job.

Along with a growing sacramentalist approach to Holy Communion, I also started to look again at Mary, the mother of Our Lord. This had always been one of the biggest stumbling blocks to me when looking at Catholicism, but that changed in 2010.

In 2000 we lost a baby. Tristan was born on the 31st January and died on the 4th February from brain and organ damage due to a trauma in the womb that we were not aware of until he was born. We had one more child after that, but then struggled to conceive again. My wife was in constant emotional pain and I could not find a solution. In 2010, having been unemployed for 6 months following redundancy, I went on a retreat to find some answers. In truth, I was more concerned about my work and career (and the need to provide for my family), but my mind turned to my wife's pain during this time.

I was kneeling in prayer in the 'Lady Chapel' of the monastic house I was staying in when I found myself gazing upon the statue of Mary. In something of an act of desperation I found myself addressing Mary directly - asking for wisdom and insight into my wife's situation. An answer appeared as clearly as if I had just read it. Love and Loss were the two sides of the coin that is motherhood. That Our Lady felt both when Jesus was on earth and that to embrace that is to discover the grace that makes motherhood a unique and highly valued call before God.

As you can imagine, I came away from that weekend with a new perspective, and felt myself being nudged further along the road, but wasn't yet aware where it would end.