I'm one of those cafeteria catholics. The faith is ingrained, the rules, not so much. I'm not just giving lip service to the changes so desperately needed, I'm a bit of an activist, too. But this entry is not about the politics or policies or changes that need to be made. This one is about an other worldly experience I recently had. One that filled me with peace and wonder when all was said and done.
Most catholics I know have stopped going to mass, at least regularly. This is a big transgression, It's one of the rules, dontchaknow. I'd been pretty good about it for the last twenty years, involved, here and there, with my parish, my community. Then I got 'fed up with the set up.' I got pissed, so I quit going, to that particular church. Money grubbers and for all the wrong reasons. So I shopped. I tried a few new places, and I revisited old favorites. I got discouraged, and I fell off the bandwagon.
I skipped mass for almost two years, prayed for forgiveness, but didn't return. I missed it, though, I've always loved the mass.
Then, after a move, I started researching churches in my new 'hood.' Online, drive-bys, stop ins. I found one I liked. A LOT. I stepped up my attendance and became familiar and comforted. Now I know why.
I have a friend, a very good friend, and I am close to her entire family. I love these people, I know them well. They too, are Irish catholics and we go way back. They stopped being compliant back when we all did, too many changes. The matriarch, however, missed her church, but was outnumbered and stopped driving years ago, after her husband died.
I had a great relationship with Helen, one of the few people in my life who truly 'got' me. We could talk forever, singing old songs, telling stories, eating chocolate and laughing til we cried. Helen was in her late 80's when we really connected. She was great company. What a wit !
Anyway, Helen thought I was a good catholic, she asked me to take her to mass "sometime." She missed the mass, she loved it too,back when it was sacred to all of us. I never did take her, I was church shopping at the time, but assured her I would come through when I found one I thought she'd like.
I finally found that church. It is charming, it is small, but regal, it is filled with a congregation of all peoples. A true melting pot in an idyllic setting. A pastor who is a character in and of himself, much like Helen.
After months of keeping this secret to myself (now I know why) I finally invited Helen and her daughter to join me for a noon mass one summer Sunday. They accepted. I was so looking forward to sharing my treasure.
On the day, I was waiting to be picked up by Helen and her daughter, my 'sistah-friend' (Mary) and was mildly surprised when only Mary showed up. Helen (now 92) didn't feel well enough but strongly urged Mary and I to go anyway. We did. Mary was enchanted by the mass, the priest, the setting, the community.
And then, in the middle of mass, she cried. And I knew why.
She cried because she knew that we had found the place that would comfort her mother enough to let go, to let go and join her family in heaven. When I saw her tears, a part of me knew, too, what had just happened.
A week later, Mary took Helen to mass. Helen was duly dazzled, and, evidently, greatly relieved. They joined the parish on the spot.
Two weeks after that, Helen had a stroke, severe enough to get her admitted to the hospital. Then, shortly after that, another one, severe enough to bring in Hospice.
You know what comes next. Helen did let go, having lived out her life in good health, all faculties and dignity intact. Her children arranged a wonderful funeral, in that perfect setting. I was pushy enough to suggest the music, aprapo and beautiful, if a little schmaltzy. I knew she'd love it and was so tickled when her children went with my suggestions.
So, I never went back. I didn't feel the need , I didn't have the inclination. I know I need to, but I have a myriad of excuses, all valid. It's almost as if my mission was accomplished. I feel validated, I feel wonderful. I know that God again, has used me in His way.
It's magical, it's mystical and I believe it with all my heart. My God has used me in many ways,and that fills me with happiness.
I've got a lot of energy still left in the ol' chassis, Lord.
Reporting for duty.
