Anglican Use for the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

I've written about my only experience with Anglican Use before. And yes, "Anglican Use" may not be the correct term to use anymore but it's what I'm using since it's more descriptive. Anyway, so I originally intended to back to that Anglican Use parish more often but it never happened for various reasons.

However, I found myself in kind of a mess in the lead up to the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God in that I was planning to take a road trip on Friday, January 1, which would prevent me from attending Mass. My priest seemed reluctant to grant me a dispensation but the only parish I knew about that was offering Mass on Thursday, December 31 was a Novus Ordo parish that I've mixed experiences with.

But then I remembered the Anglican Use parish. Father seemed perfectly okay with my suggestion to attend Mass there.

As I've said, I really do miss the Anglican liturgy even now. I enjoy the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, don't get me wrong, but deep down I think my heart will always belong to the Book of Common Prayer Rite I.

I should add that what this all really drives home for me is the distaste I have for the New Mass. Again, I want to emphasize that I don't question the validity of the New Mass. I'm no radtrad. I just think other forms are more reverential.

The formality was amazing. The priest faced ad orientem, which I wouldn't have insisted upon but was still happy to have. This never happened at my old ACNA parish. I don't know why but for some reason facing ad orientem gives me that extra degree of solemnity. I'm not trying to nitpick; I'm just saying I appreciated this part of the deal.

Then there's how beautiful the whole enterprise is:

Prayer of Humble Access: We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy. Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the Flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his Blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.

Also, several parts were sung and chanted (which also never happened at my old ACNA parish) and it was beautiful! Angelic! If I hear chants at all, they're probably in Latin so the English was a nice change of pace.

Bells and smells. Copious amounts of incense. There's no such thing as too much incense in my book.

As to communion, I prefer receiving from a priest or deacon while kneeling at an altar rail, and somebody at that Anglican Use parish apparently agrees with me because that's their setup. Definitely the way to go. Communion is done by intinction, incidentally, and then placed directly into the communicant's mouth. All fine by me.

Another nice touch is the architecture. The style is sort of Gothic or neo-Gothic or some such. It basically looks like the stereotype I always had of a traditional Anglican parish.

Anyway. I'll never regret joining the Catholic Church. But I do cherish Anglican liturgy and this place does it right.

Advent Ruminations

Wow, been a long time.

Been a little busy lately. You'd think I'd have a little more downtime what with losing my job a few months ago. But the "downtime" has been occupied with searching for a new job. So I guess it all balances.

Did I mention that I lost my job? If not... I lost my job. And yes, it does suck.

But I refuse to let that get me down. I got into the Christmas spirit a lot earlier than usual this year. Chalk it up to a virtual obsession with Christmas. The egg nog, the wreathes, the trees, the decorations, the cold weather, it's like a drug for me.

As part of my early observance of Christmas, I created a few playlists in iTunes for Christmas music. I've got a playlist for choirs and classical music type of stuff like the Nutcracker and that type of stuff with a few Latin Christmas Mass chants thrown in for good measure. A second playlist is for the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. The third and final playlist consists of SONGS; Sixpence None the Richer, Randy Travis, Celine Dion, Nat King Cole, Glen Campbell, Bing Crosby and a bunch of others.

In spite of there being three playlists, I was actually rather strict about what I included this year. The piece either had to have traditional association with Christmas, it had to mention Christmas by name or else it had to mention some facet of Our Lord and/or Our Lady.

That cuts down on a lot more songs than you might think.

Anyway, I've always loved Christmas. And I was especially anticipating Advent this year, my first as a full Catholic!

It seems, however, that I might be in the alone on this one here. In fact, the homily from the first day of Advent this year was a bit discouraging. I went to a Novus Ordo parish partly because I'd slept through all the other Masses available, including my FSSP parish's Masses. And partly it's because the pastor of the FSSP parish is amazing in many respects... but he's not exactly the greatest when it comes to offering a solid homily. So I figured the Novus Ordo parish I typically use as a backup might be the better choice.

And how wrong I was!

The Mass started off well enough. The parishioners faced the rear of the nave where the procession had temporarily halted. The pastor made some introductory remarks concerning the beginning of Advent.

From there we recited the Apostles Creed rather than the Nicene Creed. It's an interesting way to change things up but, first, I don't have the Apostles Creed memorized like I do the Nicene so I had to read from the handout. And second, if I'm being honest, I like the Nicene Creed better. I just find it more comprehensive and specific than the Apostles Creed. But that's a small matter in the big scheme of things.

But the pastor joked that everybody prefers Lent to Advent. Well, um, I don't. I'm still bringing myself into discipline when it comes to Lent. It's tougher to get my head and discipline around. But Advent? Not only does it have the obvious Christmas connection, it's a more intellectual exercise than it is disciplinary one. You're to pray more and changing your mode of thinking for Advent. Lent actually requires you to DO something, be pro-active, attend Confession more often, make at least one sacrifice and so forth.

I wouldn't have minded his generalization. After all, it's just one guy's opinion, right? But the other parishioners all chuckled in good natured affirmation of his opinion.

AM I the weirdo here? Do most Catholics prefer Lent to Advent? That seems incomprehensible to me, and yet the preponderance of evidence here (inasmuch as there is any) suggests that I truly am in the minority on this one. It's tough to say.

But anyway, it'll take a lot more than that to ruin Advent and Christmas for me. I've been the oddball in the group tones of times.

What's one more?

Considering the Daily Mass

I spent most of 2013 with the Anglicans. During that time I realized that I wanted something more than worshiping on Sunday. It was a pleasure to attend the Holy Eucharist service on Wednesday evening. But I was unemployed at that time and could've attended services each day if they'd been offered. And would've attended.

That's not the reason I converted to Catholicism, of course. In fact it was barely a consideration. My Mass attendance has been almost exclusively for my Sunday obligation. But this week I attended daily Latin Mass on Monday, Tuesday, Friday and am about to go again today.

Part of my motivation is just that I have the time for it now. But the other, bigger issue is that the Catholic Church teaches there's nothing better you can do than attend Mass in a state of grace and receive the sacrament.

Caring for the poor, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, defending the defenseless, those things are all wonderful. But they pale in comparison to attending Mass, where the sacrifice transcends time and space to yesterday, today and tomorrow. It's the greatest possible thing anybody can ever do. How much truer must that be when you assist at Mass outside of your usual obligation?

I mean, I understood that much on an intellectual basis. But actually experiencing it puts it all into a different perspective.

For one thing, daily Mass at my parish is sparsely attended. There were enough people there that it didn't feel like it was just me and the priest. But it was nowhere near capacity. I didn't think to count noses but I'd be shocked if even thirty other people attended. To put that in perspective, I've never attended an obligation Mass anywhere that didn't have a large throng of people standing in the back because inevitably there weren't enough seats to go around. So that was a major difference right there.

That gives you a chance to concentrate on the liturgy, the prayers, the Latin, the sacrifice, all of it. I don't want this to sound as snooty as it probably will but when I slummed it with the Anglicans for that year, I became addicted to small numbers of people attending the service.

Understand, I got my fill of vast crowds of people in my evangelical days. I love the idea of huge numbers of people worshiping together... but I don't care to ever experience it firsthand ever again. Well, on weekends, you don't have much of a choice about that. But crowded pews are a virtual non-issue with daily Mass.

That also works on a ranty level for me because invariably people arrive late to Mass. And on weekends, there's a strange, unspoken expectation that I should scoot over and make room for them.

No.

I generally show up for Mass fifteen (or more) minutes early specifically so that I can choose a good seat. I like sitting on the outside when I can. And usually I can. So why should I give up the good seat I arrived early for so that I can give it to someone who arrived late? I don't mind if they sit next to me but they can move around me and sit on the inside of the pew. If they don't like it, they can get there early next time. But I'm not giving up my good spot.

This is another non-issue with daily Mass. There will only be one or two or (at most) three people on any given pew. Everybody has room to stretch out a little. If someone arrives late, it's irrelevant because there will still be plenty of empty pews to choose from.

Related to that stuff, and second, the intimacy of the Mass allows for silence. More people means more people moving. And more people moving means more noise. But thirty (at most) people in a vast space is very silent. You just can't beat the solemn reverence and stillness of the thing.

In a weird kind of way, it's just you and God. You're keenly aware of your sin, your imperfection, your unworthiness. But in the Mass, with the blessed sacrament, your soul is nourished and simultaneously you're giving God the highest possible worship that man is capable of offering. Yes, you're full of sin. But to whatever degree you can offer God true, perfect and holy worship, you're doing it in the Mass. And that's any Mass.

But the silence and the intimacy of daily Mass drives those things home clearer than you can possibly imagine.

Third, and finally, there's clarity of purpose. I've been known to bail on weekend Mass a few minutes early so that I don't have to fight it out in the parking lot with the inevitable gridlock.

That's another non-issue with daily Mass. The lack of traffic in the parking lot means you can stay after Mass for as long as you want. There's not another Mass starting anytime soon to push you out the door. You can bask in the glow of Our Lord's presence, pray in His presence and do your other devotions.

And when you're ready. Not before. Not after. When you're ready you can gather your things and wander casually out the door. There's no rush. There's no competition. You can enjoy the silence and the peace of having just offered God your absolute best worship and absorb the contentment of those things.

I made a few casual observations during the daily Masses I've attended so far. One of them is that it tends to be the same bunch of people who attend each day. Not to flatter myself but I suppose those who attend daily Mass are the "hardliners". Certainly the others in attendance have a very serious air about them.

I've said in previous entries that generally only about 10% of Christians are truly committed to the faith. Catholic or non-Catholic, only one in ten truly abides by the faith to the best of their ability.

That number might be less accurate at one of the FSSP parishes like the one I attend as it's a more specialized type of worship. I do, however, believe the 10% number is true in general.

Receiving the sacrament is a much faster process, obviously, with such a small number of people there. It's generally over after maybe five minutes. And obviously only the priest will administer it in the traditional Rite. When I go to Novus Ordo parishes, I always sit in the section where the sacrament will be administered by a priest but that's already taken care of at my FSSP parish. Nobody but a priest will ever administer it there, no matter how long it takes. And with daily Mass it just doesn't take very long.

Mind you, nothing's perfect in life. Daily Mass is invariably low Mass. I love high Mass the most but it's just not practical to do that for daily Mass. So there's no incense and there's no chanting.

But there's also no Sign of Peace either. I'm not exactly a people person so to me it's actually a relief to not have to mingle with strangers. This is likely a character flaw on my part. And perhaps it's something I should work on. But in the here and now, I like keeping my distance and my silence. Some people say that it's better to be thought anti-social than to keep your mouth shut and remove all doubt. But distance is my tendency.

All of this is an incredibly long way of encouraging attendance at daily Mass. Go when you can. I realize we all have to work for a living and so daily Mass may not fit in with everybody's schedule. Heck, it's probably not going to fit in with my schedule much longer.

But there's simply no matching the serenity and contentment of offering God your very best on a completely voluntary basis.

Now excuse me, I'm off to daily Mass.

Saving the Baptists with Baptism

Long time. Been busy. The usual.

Still there are a few interesting things to report.

First my work schedule may be changing soon. If it does, it'll allow me to have Sundays off. That's crucial because the FSSP parish through which I was confirmed does not have evening Mass available. So to fulfill my Sunday obligation, as I've said in previous entries, I've had to go to a Novus Ordo parish after I get off from work.

Now, I'm not disrespecting the Novus Ordo Mass. Some people feel at liberty to do that. But I don't. If there's something manifestly wrong with the Novus Ordo, it will be worked out in time. It's been around for 46 years, which is only a speck of dirt on the canvas of the Church's history. That's nothing in Church time. People wiser and more discerning than me will decide the Novus Ordo's fate.

That having been said, I really do like the traditional Latin Mass better. Again, it's not that one is valid and the other is invalid; it's strictly a matter of preference. The TLM just seems more solemn and holy to me. That's all.

And so it'd be a pleasure to be able to attend Latin Mass every week. And the only way I'll be able to do that for right now is if I have Sunday mornings off. My parish will eventually have a parish building unto itself and will be able to have evening Mass on Sunday but that's several months away at the very least. So if I want my Latin Mass, Sunday morning is my only real option.

Fingers crossed!

As to other things, I've been thinking a lot about baptism lately. I was baptized in some form or another when I was 16. I asked my parents to be baptized and my grandfather, ordained for such a thing, drove into town to do the job. And he did.

But here's the catch. I truly don't remember what he said as he baptized me. He might've used the proper phrasing as I was immersed. But maybe not. Because of that I asked for a conditional baptism when I was welcomed into the Catholic Church. I didn't want to leave anything to chance. If something was wrong with my baptism from when I was 16, it seemed wise to fix it since I was going to be welcomed into the Church anyway.

But this runs counter to what I was always taught as a child and during my Southern Baptist days as an adult. I was always taught (and, God forgive me, I taught others that) baptism was a strictly symbolic thing. The act conferred no special grace or salvation. So the most obvious question to ask is whether or not that's actually true.

To introduce the subject of baptism, the Catechism says:

Article 1

THE SACRAMENT OF BAPTISM

1213 Holy Baptism is the basis of the whole Christian life, the gateway to life in the Spirit (vitae spiritualis ianua), and the door which gives access to the other sacraments. Through Baptism we are freed from sin and reborn as sons of God; we become members of Christ, are incorporated into the Church and made sharers in her mission: "Baptism is the sacrament of regeneration through water in the word."

So that seems pretty clear to me. Baptism is ordinarily a necessity for salvation. But that's not what I was taught when I was an evangelical Christian. On the contrary, the position that I'd heard repeated again and again was that baptism is a symbol. It's an outward sign of obedience signifying an inward transformation.

In other words, baptism by itself accomplishes nothing. It does not save you, as such. It simply demonstrates that you have already been saved by placing your faith in Our Lord. The very most you can say is that we're following Our Lord's example in being baptized.

But is that really true? It's a big question to get wrong, especially for a movement espousing Sola Scriptura. So perhaps it would be helpful to see what the Bible has to say about salvation.

"He who believes and is baptized will be saved; but he who does not believe will be condemned."
- St. Mark 16:16

Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers subject to him.
- 1 St. Peter 3:21-22

"And now why do you wait? Rise and be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on his name."
- Acts 22:16

[B]y the washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit, which he poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that we might be justified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal life.
- Titus 3:5-7

Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, "Brethren, what shall we do?" And Peter said to them, "Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is to you and to your children and to all that are far off, every one whom the Lord our God calls to him." And he testified with many other words and exhorted them, saying, "Save yourselves from this crooked generation." So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.
- Acts 2:37-41

This all raises the question of just what more can be said in sacred Scripture to emphasize the necessity of baptism for salvation. If God wanted to clearly and plainly articulate the importance of baptism, what other words could He possibly use to make the point?

To go back to the Catechism for a moment: 1214 This sacrament is called Baptism, after the central rite by which it is carried out: to baptize (Greek baptizein) means to "plunge" or "immerse"; the "plunge" into the water symbolizes the catechumen's burial into Christ's death, from which he rises up by resurrection with him, as "a new creature."

1215 This sacrament is also called "the washing of regeneration and renewal by the Holy Spirit," for it signifies and actually brings about the birth of water and the Spirit without which no one "can enter the kingdom of God."

Once again we find the Catholic Church's interpretation to be absolutely spot-on and consistent with sacred Scripture, not to mention her own tradition and teachings on this subject through the centuries.

Meanwhile many evangelical Protestants, despite their professed belief in sacred Scripture alone as the only infallible authority which guides men in the faith, have missed the mark.

Now, I should say that there are clearly instances where someone believes but, for whatever reason, is not or cannot be baptized in a canonically acceptable way. What of them? Are they simply doomed to hell?

Well, that's not mine to say. The Church teaches that there are possibilities for such people to go to heaven. Those are extraordinary circumstances. But in ordinary circumstances, sacred Scripture and the Church's teachings are both clear:

He who believes and is baptized will be saved.

An Evangelical Responds

One thing I've noticed over the course of my life is that I don't get to make any decision for free. What I mean by that is if I were to decide to double-knot my shoelaces, somebody would come along and demand an explanation as to why I dare have the temerity to not single-knot like everybody else does.

It extends to everything. My career choices, my romantic life, my hobbies, everything.

Coming from a Protestant background as I do, there's no reason to think religious issues should be any different.

I recently shared an article about Sola Scriptura on Facebook. I've made similar arguments myself, both on this blog and in other venues. Simply put, I find Sola Sciptura to be a logical dead end. If the Bible is one's sole source of religious authority... who put the Bible together and what gives them the authority to decide what is and is not canon?

Shouldn't the Sola Scriptura approach be to decide one's personal canon for oneself - or do Protestants already do that?

I wasn't necessarily expecting an outpouring of support, you understand. I just thought it was food for thought and left it at that. But that wasn't good enough for one Facebook friend.

I should pause here and say he and I aren't really "friends" at all. We have mutual friends from my old days at Southern Baptist Church #2 but we have no real relationship between one another.

The only reason he friended me on Facebook is because of the aforementioned mutual friends. He sent me a PM to ask why I never attend any SBC Church #2 functions or attend services there in spite of the fact that I remain a member of their Facebook group. I answered him as well as I could. "The answer I don't attend church there is because Catholic."

In reply I received a sort of invasive series of questions from this guy regarding my faith and Church membership. It wasn't exactly rude but it did seem a little nosy. Our brief correspondence wrapped up with an invitation back to SB Church #2 for some "ecumenical dialogue".

Now, I might've been born at night. But it wasn't last night. I'm next door to positive that if I were foolish enough to show my face at SB Church #2 again, quite apart from seeing a lot of faces from SB Church #1 (my original cause for leaving SB Church #2), I'd be immediately set upon by well-intentioned dunderheads demanding an explanation to some list of Questions to Ask Catholics someone Googled. I have no idea how this blog comes off but, trust me, I'm not apologist. This is a setup.

No thanks.

Besides, SB Church #2 only has services on Sunday morning. If my Sunday morning wasn't occupied by work, I'd attend Latin Mass at my FSSP parish. So no matter what, I'm not going back to SB Church #2. I love the people there but the Catholic faith is where I was always meant to be.

To get back on task though, this guy posted a series of comments to the Sola Scriptura article I shared. It ended up becoming a bit of a back and forth discussion between the two of us. Near the end (or is it merely a pause?) he shifted the subject from Sola Scriptura to Sola Fide.

In essence, he jumped from "the sole source of religious authority" to "the sole source of salvation". Which may be an interesting discussion to have some time. But that isn't the discussion at hand.

All of which is a very long way of saying this objector is the latest in a long line of opposition I've encountered. What makes this situation somewhat unique is that it comes from a complete stranger. Which I found to rather amusing in an aggravating sort of way.

Formal Prayer and How It's Done

In my history as a Christian (which, by my reckoning, only began in November 2004) my prayer life has always been pretty weak. I'm sure somebody out there had a worse prayer life than I did. But that doesn't somehow make my lackluster commitment to prayer somehow better.

As with a lot of other things, I blame this on evangelicalism. The reason for that is because evangelicalism places so much emphasis on extemporaneous prayer (nonsensical babbling, in most cases) and an abject lack of training on how to pray combined with a rejection of traditions (*cough* Catholic Church *cough*) which emphasize formal prayers. So it's maybe no wonder that my prayers were so pathetic and so infrequent.

This is another snowflake in a blizzard of practices and norms suggested by the Catholic Church which the Church then empowers you to do.

In my case, I'm still working on my Marian devotions. It's just not as good as it might be. But my prayers in general are a lot stronger now thanks to the Church-provided prayers to believers. I've got an app on my phone and iPad which contains basically every formal prayer the Church has authorized. Of those, I've bookmarked ten:

Glory Be

Our Father

Act of Contrition

Hail Mary

Alma Redemptoris Mater

Morning Prayer

Golden Arrow

Morning Offering

Magnificat

Nicene Creed

What I've noticed is that praying formal prayers first puts me into a prayerful rhythm where I can then pray extemporaneously (which evangelicals put so much emphasis on) and pray to God, Our Lady or the saints.

And hey, the fact is that you don't always have some pressing need to request or some aggravating sin to confess or some dire emergency going on. Sometimes you can just kneel and pray the formal prayers; worship God or thank Our Lord for His sacrifice or praise Our Lady for her obedience. You don't always have to request something and THAT'S OKAY. It's perfectly acceptable to just praise God's holiness and perfection without asking for something in return. And if you're doing okay right now, fine. Worship and adore, and then be on your way.

But when you need more, you've now got a basic foundation to build on to put your will in line with God, to focus your spirit on the Sacred Heart, to immerse your soul in the Spirit.

As a result, I pray the above prayers each morning before work and it really does alter the trajectory of the day. Whatever was going to happen... well, maybe it'll still happen, maybe it won't. But either way, I'm now in a better spiritual headspace to cope with it.

I don't want this blog to became an anti-evangelical rant but sometimes it's hard to not feel just a little torqued off about how misled I was all those years.

Jennifer Fulwiler and Other Influences

Back in my old Southern Baptist days, I was never really one to have "heroes" or "influences". Not really. I mean, we've all seen people on Facebook share links to this blog or that podcast or some news article by a layman of note. It just wasn't my thing. My attitude was that I could read the Bible just fine for myself, thankyouverymuch. It didn't feel like I needed someone else to write devotionals or other BS.

I was and remain fascinated by the tendency, don't get me wrong. Donald Miller, Rob Bell, Rachel Held Evans and the like. Especially the emerging Christian Left. It's just something I didn't relate to on a personal level back then.

Since becoming Anglican, though, that changed. I picked out a couple of people that I thought had interesting insights. Not many and the process taught me just how fragmented and divided Anglicanism in general is. The problem with having such a big tent approach is that it eliminates any possibility of real unity. That was bothersome at the time but, oddly enough, it wasn't fatal to my budding Anglo-Catholicism.

That tendency, by comparison, has gone into overdrive though since becoming Catholic. Quite a few writers and bloggers are in my bookmarks and I check regularly for new updates and the like.

Jennifer Fulwiler is different for me though inasmuch as she comes at life from the same place I do. First, obviously she's a convert. So right there she and I have a lot in common. But second, she comes at pretty much everything from a very rational, very intellectual reference point.

And that, I think, is one reason why her blog is so fascinating to me. She touches on the regular life stuff we all put up with. But she also writes quite a bit about matters related to Catholicism. And generally she has this incredibly raw insight into the faith that eludes a lot of her peers. And it's all predicated on an intellectual conversion to the faith similar to my own.

I didn't convert to Catholicism because of some touchy-feely, warm fuzzy spiritual experience. I did it because I pride myself on being an intellectually honest person and the Catholic Church has the most intellectually honest argument for being THE Church.

That same type of intellectual conviction underlies Jennifer Fulwiler's journey to and ongoing practice of the faith.

Anyway, she's awesome. That's the point.

Afterthoughts
My list of must-read blogs would probably include Elizabeth Scalia, except those Patheos blogs all have aggravating video ads that play stupid commercials and crash my browser. Elizabeth's got a lot of cool things to say, don't get me wrong. NOBODY says the stuff she's saying. I just simply refuse to play ball with the Patheos policy of overloading their viewers with aggravating commercials.

Yes, I realize that hosting a blog network like theirs requires a very high bill to be paid every month. But, simply put, nothing is worth the amount of frustration that I have to put up with to read any Patheos blog. So I don't bother.

Why am I suddenly influenced by other Catholics when no other evangelicals and only certain Anglicans ever captivated my interest? I think the answer to that is how the Church stresses unity and acceptance. My conversion to Catholicism was started on an intellectual basis. But other people have different perspectives. Some were cradle Catholics and don't know anything else. Some are the more fuzzy-wuzzy experrrrrrrrrience stuff that I've never placed much value on. So on and so forth.

And the reality is that they're all just as Catholic as I am. Their particulars and their backstories may be different... but in the case of Catholicism, those differences are ultimately a good thing. The Church is big enough to accommodate everybody without compromising itself. They're not all the same as me. But we all members of the same Church, we're given the same sacraments and we obey the same Pope.

THAT is unity with diversity. And it is a beautiful miracle.

Easter Vigil

So. Easter Vigil. I realize that what happened on Easter Vigil is arguably more pertinent for me to write about than was the sacrament of marriage. But that was a late addition to My Catholic Year, which, as much as anything, was supposed to be a time for absorbing as much of what the Church has to offer as possible. And so it felt wrong somehow to not mention that before getting into Easter Vigil.

As I've said before, I joined the Catholic Church by way of a Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter parish. So although I thought I knew what the process of being welcomed into the Church would be like, I was very mistaken.

First, there was the small matter of my baptism to get straightened out. I was baptized back when I was 16 by my grandfather. He was an elder at his local Church of Christ church. But there are some difficulties there. For starters, that was half a lifetime ago for me. I truly have no idea if he baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. It stands to reason that he would have. But I couldn't swear to it.

Second, even if he had and even if I remembered it, I don't have a certificate of baptism. For one thing, that's not really a Church of Christ thing to do. But even if it was, it still wouldn't matter because I was baptized at a church but not by that church. My grandfather baptized me at the church I attended at the time. It was my church; not his. Someone from the church came down, unlocked the building for us and my grandfather baptized me. But it wasn't done by the church proper.

Third, that church technically no longer exists anymore. Or if it does, not in the form it was in back when I was 16. And certainly not at the same building.

The combination of all these things made me a very good candidate for a conditional baptism. If that's an unfamiliar term, a conditional baptism should be self-explanatory. But if it isn't, it's basically the priest offering words to the effect of "If you weren't baptized already, you are baptized now". It doesn't "rebaptize" you as such because that's impossible. You can only baptized once. But in cases where one's baptism is up for grabs, a conditional baptism is a good way to settle the matter once and for all.

However, since that potentially leaves half a lifetime of unconfessed sins on the table, there's really no way to do it during the proper Easter Vigil because the priest can't very well stop the Mass to hear confessions from people who may have already been licitly baptized before. So that part had to be done earlier in the day on Saturday.

And I must say that confessing my sins to Father was a pretty unusual experience. I expect it'll get easier in the future but it was hard to think of very many major sins I've committed. But some very important mortal sins I've committed came to mind and needed to get straightened out. It'd be stupid to mention them here but by any standard this is definitely stuff to mention in confession.

What I discovered though was simply talking about them and getting them off my chest helped a bunch. I'm really sorry for some of the things I've done in life. I did them with my eyes wide open, in spite of everything my own conscience, Sacred Scripture and probably even the Spirit could say to dissuade me. But I did them and then I confessed. Father absolved me and prescribed my penance.

Earlier today I took care of my penance. And you know what? Danged if I don't feel like a burden I was never even aware of has been lifted.

Now, don't misunderstand me. I've never been one of those fuzzy-wuzzy spiritual feeeeeeeeeeeelings types. It's just not my thing. Subjective experience is fine in its place but there is such a thing as an objective reality and experiential nonsense usually isn't what motivates me. But at the same time, I can't pretend something important didn't change, first, by confessing and, second, by doing my penance.

Once the baptismal rite and then confession had ended, it was off to get dinner just before Easter Vigil started.

Now, I come from a decidedly Protestant family. My friends are either Protestant or not religious. Because of that, I wasn't expecting much of anything in terms of recognition from anyone for joining the Church. So imagine my surprise when my girlfriend presented with me rosary beads, a Catholic Bible, 'Heretics' by GK Chesterton and a few other things!

After that, it was back to church for Easter Vigil. Now, I knew this was going to be a major lu-lu. I'd heard that this was the single longest Mass the Catholic Church has to offer. Apparently it's second to none in terms of length. And I found that to be quite true.

Even so, the sights, sounds, prayers and chanting, incense and everything else... I mean, THIS is how you worship God. So I didn't mind the length of the Mass.

This is probably a typical experience for a lot of people but I was not expecting total strangers to want to take pictures of and with me just because I was joining. But that's what happened. My fellow candidates and I were almost treated like celebrities or something with everybody, of whom not least was the parish's photographer, wanting to take pictures of us standing with our sponsors in front of the altar, standing with Father in front of the altar, standing otherwise alone as a group in front of the altar, standing as individuals in front of the altar, etc. It was nuts!

But then they just saw all of us get welcomed into the Church. As converts. Whatever our lives would've become before we joined the Church, that's all changed now. We have a new destiny. A better destiny. And they witnessed us take our first clumsy steps in that right direction. And as adults in such a traditionalist church, you can well figure that we're probably doing it for all the right reasons. And so perhaps that is what those people wanted to commemorate.

Either way, it was hard to not get a little emotional about the whole thing. I've been trying to join the Catholic Church ever since October 2013. My fellow candidates only started in July 2014. If, shall we say, "time served" is a factor, I don't think the experience meant as much to them as it did to me. This took a long time to finally get sorted out. It was worth the wait, to be sure, but joining the Church has been uppermost in my mind for a very long time now.

And now that I'm officially a member, I don't quite know what the next step is. But I'll figure something out.

Considering A Sacrament- You're Not As Prolife As You Think

It's funny that I've struggled so much lately over challenges I've had lately with my new faith considering how much investigation and research I did about Catholicism long before even joining RCIA. But problems I've had lately relate to two of the Church's more controversial positions, which go hand-in-hand with each other: Sanctity of life and prohibition of contraception.

I say these are struggles for me because I agreed with the Church's teachings about them and because of that, I thought I understood them. But I'm coming to learn that I don't. Which isn't to say I disagree with the Church. It only means that I didn't completely understand where they were coming from.

Take abortion, for example. To me it was human life. Simple as that. And since we don't know exactly when "life begins", the cautionary principle we should proceed from is that life begins at the moment of conception.

And while I suspect the Church agrees with that sentiment, it doesn't go far enough in describing the fullness of the person or the problem. My problem, though, was that I didn't feel any great intellectual compulsion to proceed from there. And that's why the reasons for the Church's teachings have caught me so off-guard.

From the Catechism:

2270 Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception.

From the first moment of his existence, a human being must be recognized as having the rights of a person - among which is the inviolable right of every innocent being to life.

Pretty straight forward, right?

2271 Since the first century the Church has affirmed the moral evil of every procured abortion.

This teaching has not changed and remains unchangeable.

Direct abortion, that is to say, abortion willed either as an end or a means, is gravely contrary to the moral law:

...

Life must be protected with the utmost care from the moment of conception: abortion and infanticide are abominable crimes.

So in a nutshell, that tells us what the Church teaches concerning abortion. But it doesn't tell us the fullness of why things are the way they are. This is more or less where I'd always stopped with the formation of my pro-life views. "It's murder". Pure and simple. And, again, it is. But there are other factors at work in this far beyond even that. My problem was that I thought the above was enough by itself. And as Anglican (as I used to be), it might've been. But the Church always has two or three reasons (at least) for believing what they do. So what are the other reasons in play here?

It relates to the life and purpose of the sacrament of marriage. A man and a woman, once married, are to bond in the marital union. Their love for each other and this sacrament given from above are powerful. So powerful, in fact, that (in ordinary circumstances) the end result can be new life.

The purpose of marriage isn't to do whatever you want, if you catch my drift, with your spouse. Your wife is not a sex object. She's your wife. She has the full dignity of being made in God's image. As a man, you're to cherish her, protect her and love her as Christ loves the Church.

From the Catechism...

2249 The conjugal community is established upon the covenant and consent of the spouses. Marriage and family are ordered to the good of the spouses, to the procreation and the education of children.

Again, the purpose of marriage is in the majority of cases the creation of new life, which carries with it the inherent responsibility of educating the children in the faith. Push comes to shove, this is what the two of you are here to do.

1653 The fruitfulness of conjugal love extends to the fruits of the moral, spiritual, and supernatural life that parents hand on to their children by education. Parents are the principal and first educators of their children. In this sense the fundamental task of marriage and family is to be at the service of life.

And let's be realistic, that may not always fit into your game plan. If the two of you already have your hands full with a little one who's still in diapers and want to space the next child out, there's nothing wrong with consummating only during non-fertile times. You're both open to procreation but your preference is to wait at least a while.

Here's the thing. You will most assuredly feel the desire for each other during fertile times. But you can't act upon it. That's a sacrifice the two of you have to make. Again, your spouse is not a sex object. The minute you don't respect how powerful the marital union is, you may end up with an unexpected pregnancy.

1652 "By its very nature the institution of marriage and married love is ordered to the procreation and education of the offspring and it is in them that it finds its crowning glory."

Children are the supreme gift of marriage and contribute greatly to the good of the parents themselves. God himself said: "It is not good that man should be alone," and "from the beginning (he) made them male and female"; wishing to associate them in a special way in his own creative work, God blessed man and woman with the words: "Be fruitful and multiply." Hence, true married love and the whole structure of family life which results from it, without diminishment of the other ends of marriage, are directed to disposing the spouses to cooperate valiantly with the love of the Creator and Savior, who through them will increase and enrich his family from day to day.

Now, this policy has been treated as an authoritarian power play by the secularists. "They only want women to be wombs with feet!" Well, let's be realistic for just a moment. Which worldview objectifies women? The Catholic viewpoint that says both husband and wife should respect each other's souls and bodies at all times and never treat one another like a piece of meat because their union is so powerful it can create new life? Or the secularist view that says you can do whatever you want with whoever you want as often as you want with absolutely no commitment whatsoever as long as you remember to take your Pill?

You cannot use contraception without in some way or another cheapening what the sacrament of marriage is supposed to be. Consequently, there may well be times when you have to sacrifice the pleasure of your physical union with your spouse. But that's a sacrifice you must be willing to make.

Besides, if the Church truly wanted to reduce women to "baby factories", they would not forbid in vitro fertilization. But they do. Infertile couples don't miss out on the fullness of the marital union simply because they don't have children. But they're still called to sacrifice by not having children.

1654 Spouses to whom God has not granted children can nevertheless have a conjugal life full of meaning, in both human and Christian terms. Their marriage can radiate a fruitfulness of charity, of hospitality, and of sacrifice.

But you never hear that argument in anti-Catholic rants in the media. All anybody seems to remember is the Church's prohibition against using contraception. But if the Church truly viewed women as baby outlets, they would not forbid artificial fertilization procedures.

So much for women's rights!

Ultimately it comes down to the dignity of marriage, which is inextricably linked to the dignity of the human being which is itself inextricably linked to the value of human life. And that leads us right back to abortion.

Considering the reverence the Church manifestly has for marriage as a sacrament for procreation, is it any wonder then that the Church views abortion the way it does? If one's view of marriage is as high-minded as the Catholic Church's, the only logical conclusion must be that abortion is a wicked practice of barbaric moral evil.

I thought I was prolife, pro-marriage and anti-contraception before but it took the Church to show me understand just how right and yet how far away I was.

The Future of the Church

I've written about my time among the Anglicans before. So I won't retread too much of it here. But it is interesting how and in what ways liberals want the Catholic Church to change.

The main reason I never joined up with the Episcopal church is because, first and foremost, the liberals had made a wreck of the place. At the time you couldn't readily identify a liberal wackadoo parish from a more traditional one. At least not by looking at it. That was the main reason I ultimately fell in with the Southern Baptists for all those years as I say. By and large, a church affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention could be assumed to be faithful and orthodox (by SBC standards, at least). The Episcopal church, meanwhile, was a lot more of a gamble.

As I type that, I'm remembering the Southern Baptist Convention's Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, which, as discussed here, I and others interpret as the beginning of the SBC doing an about-face on LGBT issues. So in the future, you can generally be certain of most Episcopal parishes you come across while the future is very likely to be shaky and uncertain for the SBC. No, the irony of all this is not lost on me.

But I digress. The one thing that's clear is that the Episcopal Church has been completely remade in the liberal's image. This, we're told, is the gateway to Christianity's future. And, as the prevailing liberal sentiment goes, until the Catholic Church embraces these things, "young people" will continue abandoning her in droves.

But like anything else, the numbers tell a different story. Current polling figures are either unavailable or else are colored by ideologues from both sides. But as a preliminary, the Church appears to be stable in the United States even though news media are constantly presenting anecdotal data indicating people are leaving. Thus the stability could be from disaffected Protestants crossing the Tiber, an influx of immigrants (whether here legally or not) or other factors. But the currently numbers are either holding fast, and are possibly increasing.

I recently had occasion to meet with my priest and discuss the final details of my being welcomed into the Church. During our conversation, we veered off topic and he ended up mentioning that the pastors of most Catholic parishes are insanely outnumbered by their parishioners.

Father didn't mention specific numbers but he said that the Novus Ordo parish at which his FSSP parish is temporarily headquartered has something like 50,000 people attending. He said that a priest is supposed to be like a father to his parishioners (thus the title "Father"). But the situation a lot of priests are facing now is more akin to being the mayor of a small town. This, he says, is why most Catholic parishes have several priests on duty. There's simply too much to do for any one priest to hope to keep up.

This isn't a problem that erecting new parishes will necessarily solve either as there is a priest shortage right now. Demand far outstrips supply.

Meanwhile, if current social issues are anything to judge by, the Episcopal church is apparently the zeitgeist of American Christianity right now. It embraces everything the liberal naysayers argue the Church should. Less hierarchical authority, ordination of gay, female and married "clergy", acceptance of non-heterosexual unions, abortion on demand, birth control, divorce and all the other liberal sacraments.

With a formula like that, you'd think the Episcopal church must have nigh uncontainable growth. But the truth is it lost over 30% of its parishioners between 2001 and 2008. Fully one million people left the church during that time. And all signs so far indicate that it has lost even more in recent years as the old guard continues dying out.

During that same period, the Catholic Church posted growth of 7 million new members. In other words, they not only made up for what the Episcopal church lost, they had an additional 6 million new members as well.

Are the Catholic Church's numbers stable? Will they hold? We'll have to wait for newer and more objective polling data. But what's virtually certain at this point is that the Episcopal church (and Anglicanism in general) is in its death throes in the United States. In ten years, I think it's very unlikely that the Episcopal church as we know it will even exist anymore. Their "clergy" are still relatively young though so there's every possibility that the "too many chiefs, not enough Indians" problem the Episcopal church is currently facing will only get even more lopsided as time goes by.

Meanwhile, one has to wonder how long it will be before Catholic priests feel like the mayor less of a small town and more of a major metropolitan area.