My Home at St. Mary Catholic Community

The other day I read a quote by Anglican priest, Nicky Gumbel that said, “Church is not an organization you join; it is a family where you belong, a home where you are loved and a hospital where you find healing.”Gumbel’s words struck a chord deep within me and made me smile in agreement. It may have taken me 27 years, but I am happy to say that I found a church that over the past two and a half years has become a family, a home, a purifying hospital and so very much more. I am blessed to call St. Mary Catholic Community of Helena my church home.

Two weeks ago I had the privilege of sharing in St. Mary’s 50^th anniversary jubilee celebration. The event overflowed with vitality, grace, and peace. With the Bishop in attendance, a choir whose voices rose like angels, a decadent picnic and a blessing of one of the lushest gardens I’ve ever seen, it was a celebration that all in attendance will remember for years to come. 

With my husband, Andy, unable to attend the event, I arrived to the celebratory Sunday Mass early and alone. After blessing myself with water from the baptismal font, I meandered slowly down one of the aisles and took a seat at the end of one of the wooden pews. I was delighted to see that the choir and some accompanying musicians were playing prelude music before the service began.

With my arms folded in my lap, I sat listening as a stunning rendition of Ave Maria played on the piano and violin began. As each note was carefully drawn out across the strings and tinked on the keys, more and more memories of my time at St. Mary drifted into my mind.  

I remembered my first visit to the administrative offices at St. Mary….when I sat down with Deb Kralicek, faith formation director, and told her I wished to be baptized. That was the moment that marked the beginning of the single greatest decision of my life.

I recalled the first Mass I attended after deciding to join the church. My boyfriend (now my husband) was out of town and unable to accompany me so I attended my first Mass ever on my own….with no Catholic confidant by my side. I was utterly terrified. I sat down in one of the far back pews and tried to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze or drawing attention to myself. I prayed in that moment for God to give me some sort of sign to let me know that I was making the right decision. And just moments after my prayer Canon in D began playing. It was a song I’d always loved and I instantly teared up knowing that in some small way, that was God’s way of comforting me and letting me know that I was right where I was supposed to be. The more beautiful part of that memory is that a little over a year later, I walked down the aisle of St. Mary to that very same song and married my best friend and love. 

I remember quite vividly the most beautiful and grace-filled moment of my life at St. Mary—the night I was baptized and confirmed into the Catholic Church. There aren’t enough words to describe what that night was like. I remember professing my vows to God by the side of the baptismal font. I remember stepping into the warm water of the font and my robe flowing around me. I remember my head slipping under the water three times as I was baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I remember walking back down the aisle in my white robe for the first time. I remember the radiant light glowing from my baptismal candle as it was handed to me. I remember the sweet smell of the chrism oil as Father made the sign of the cross on my forehead. I remember the wholesome taste of the Eucharist as I placed it in my mouth for the very first time. I remember feeling forgiven…peaceful….saved. 

 I remember the immense inner peace St. Mary gave me when I brought Andy there just days after he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I had contacted our priest and asked for the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick to be bestowed on him. I had only been Catholic for about a month and knew very little about the church still but I knew this was the kind of moment where you have to turn to God. So I reached out to the only people I could think of….my church family of St. Mary. As soon as I notified the church of Andy’s condition, I was informed that the prayer groups were raising petitions up for his healing. People I barely, if even knew at all, were praying for us. I’ve never forgotten the immense level of compassion and mercy we received from the people at St. Mary during one of the most difficult times in our life. 

I can still recall how nervous I felt the first time I went up to read during Mass after signing up to be a lector. As soon as I was baptized, I knew I wanted to continue being involved in the Church. The most natural ministry option for me was serving as a lector. As a writer, I am particularly drawn to the written word of God. I understand the power of the written word. I know how hard it is to write down your beliefs and thoughts…especially when you are fearful of persecution. It is an honor to help preach God’s word and even better to help spread it through my own written word.

I remember sitting outside the confessional booth one afternoon reviewing my mistakes as I waited for my turn with Father. Soon, I was the last one waiting. When the girl before me finally exited the confessional, she walked right over to me, stuck out her fist to illicit a fist pound and said, "You've got this." I looked up at her and smiled as I pounded my fist back against hers. I don't know why, but something in that moment made me think it was Jesus in disguise...trying to comfort me in a moment of shame and instilling strength in me to make a good confession. I love that memory.

When it came time for Andy and I to plan our wedding, the location selection was easy. There is no other place on earth I would have gotten married than at St. Mary. Growing up, I never knew if I would get married in a church. And after meeting Andy, I knew that if we married someday it would have to be in the Catholic Church, even though I wasn’t Catholic yet. But when our special day finally arrived, we shared our vows in the presence of all our family and friends….and God. And we shared in the Eucharist together—both as full Catholics. I could have chosen to get married in beautiful Glacier National Park or on a mountain overlook like many Montana brides, but after being baptized and joining St. Mary I understood the importance of having our ceremony in a church and focusing on the sacramental aspect of the union. And having Father Richard—who baptized/confirmed me and anointed Andy—help facilitate the ceremony was an especially unique and touching aspect of our day.  

This past Lent, I remember the special honor I received when I was asked to assist in the distribution of ashes on Ash Wednesday. I remember sinking my thumb into the small bowl of gray ashes and drawing two lines across the foreheads of dozens of parishioners that evening while repeating “Repent, and be faithful to the Gospel.” My decision to join the church was largely prompted by an immense desire and need to be forgiven for the mistakes and sins of my life. So helping share in a day that reminds us that we all fall short of perfection and need God’s mercy was very special.

Also during this past Lent, I remember being asked by our musical director if I would give the address during one of the Friday evening prayer sessions. While I felt overwhelmed and unsure of what I should say in regards to the topic of mercy, I knew it was the opportunity I’d waited for since deciding to join the church. I wanted to share my story. I wanted others to know what truly feeling redeemed is like. I wanted to impose on people the urgency to turn to God at every moment in their life….regardless of how many failures or successes they’ve had. To simply be willing to turn ourselves and our lives over to God is critical because He will guide us, heal us, and save us in ways we never thought possible. Afterwards, people asked me if sharing my story was hard. The answer was no. History is the greatest testament we have to the fact that God often calls upon the most broken and sinful among us to help carry out his will. If I don’t share my story, I am dishonoring His call to me so I could be saved. 

While I have only attended St. Mary for the past three years or so, it is remarkable how many ways it has filled the voids in my heart and become a home away from home. The people and culture of the parish overflow with love, generosity, mercy, and faith. It is a community I feel blessed to be part of and I would do anything in my power to give back and support it in the way it has always supported me and my family.