Two weeks ago I had the privilege of sharing in St. Mary’s
50th 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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment