The Redemption of Christmas

One of the things Catholicism did for me was give me back Christmas. It seems that all of the really bad things that happened to me in the last few years before my conversion (and there have been some doozies) happened around Christmas. I began to hate the season intensely. Then, as part of my RCIA, I was introduced to the concept of the liturgical calendar. I had no idea before that there was even such a thing as Advent. Not only did this discovery deepen and sanctify Christmas for me, it made the whole season clean again in some strange way.

Even now, four Christmases after my reception into the church, Advent continues to become more and more significant. This year, I realized more clearly that Advent is a penitential season, one that prepares us to receive the God of Heaven to the earth. I don't know about you, but I can use all the penitential seasons the Church can throw at me.

Holy Mary, Mother of God

As if the incarnation itself wasn't audacious enough, I mean, the very thought of God himself becoming a man (as someone said once, it's so outrageous it must be true), as if that wasn't enough, he chose a human being to be the means by which he came into the world! God could have accomplished the incarnation differently, of course, but he didn't. He chose a woman to bear his Son. What kind of woman would that have had to be? And what should we make of her now?

If you look at it from that perspective, and not from a protestant perspective, it is only natural that Christians honor and love and magnify the Blessed Virgin Mary. Of course we do! How could we not? When my eyes were opened to this, I felt a sense of loss for the time I had lived without the knowledge of having a loving Mother in heaven. That sense of loss, though was quickly consumed by the intense preciousness of my new found joy in Mary.

AUTHORITY (cont'd)

The problem with giving your long-held sense of autonomy to the church is that you have to give everything. Reserving to yourself this doctrine or that discipline is like not giving over anything at all. This is why it is so dangerous to one's salvation to be a child of the 20th century. I had my one or two little issues that, like Gollum and the gold ring, I couldn't imagine giving up and living without.

It's easy to give authority to the Church when you find so much truth there that is, once explained properly, elegant, magnificent, transcendent, comforting and logical. Sure, no big deal there. It's when that 1% comes up that really hits you where you live; that's when you find out if you're serious or not.

As an example (completely hypothetical, mind you), take a Catholic man who has finally found the woman God meant for him. Problem is both parties had previously married someone God clearly didn't mean for them. Time has passed, wounds have healed, both the young man and his beloved want to be married. But, as divorced persons, they must now suffer through the tribunal process, waiting for the declaration of nullity that will allow them to marry sacramentally, and not commit adultery (as the saying goes) "in the eyes of the Church".

Here the young man finds out what kind of Catholic he is. He understands the annulment process, and the truth behind it. But he knows from the heart his first marriage was not sacramental (and the same goes for his beloved). Yet the wheels of the Church grind slow, and he could wait two years or more for a decision. Why not just get married? Wouldn't hurt anyone. There's adultery, then there's adultery, and everyone knows in this case it wouldn't be the same as a married man cheating on his wife. Right? So why not? You could even take the sacraments if you went to a parish where no one knows you! Why not?

Authority is why.I was more than happy to give the Church authority over the destiny of my soul and the path of my life on earth. Of course I was, I had spent my whole life making bad decisions. And fortunately, I had finally found the rightful and true Church after a long time looking. But I may have been rash in saying it was easy. It was an easy decision to make. Living it out is the challenge.

AUTHORITY

The Church demanded of me a decision, before she would take me in. I don't mean to say there was a ceremony at church where I had to assent to something, or a session in RCIA where I had to sign something. Though those things happened. What I mean is that in my reading and thinking and praying about whether to become one with the Church, it was made plain to me, by God, not by interior locution or handwriting on the wall, but by the natural processes of human reason confronted with divine truth, that I was forced to decide the question of authority.

I was fortunate. I had lived long enough under my own authority to be absolutely sick of it. Despite the fact that I had the disadvantages, philosophically speaking, of growing up in latter 20th century America, I was more than ready to cede that one asset that most of us hold on to so dearly that it can cost us our souls: self-determination.

CONFESSION

One of the great surprises to me as a new Catholic was the wondrous sacrament of confession. The bane of most protestant converts; it was to me the most liberating thing about the whole process. Once I understood the nature of the Priesthood, and Christ's delegation of the power to bind and loose sins on earth, I realized the sacrament was one of the finest and kindest gifts God has given us.



Imagine, I've sinned, my conscience knows it, my spirit grieves because of it, my soul yearns for communion to be re-established with the God it was made for. Does God leave me hanging out to dry? Does he require me to use my imagination to come up with some sort of formula for confessing my sin that will be satisfactory? Does He just ignore the issue and leave me to wonder what the state of my soul is? No, He gives me a Church that comes up with the sacrament of confession, based on authority given by Jesus Himself. And even better, for me especially, he gives me a Church that through the years has modified the concepts of penance to NOT involve seven years of bread and water, or expulsion from the community, or any of the other severe penances Christians of the early Church were sometimes made to suffer. What could be better?



Well, ok, not to sin could be better, but let’s face it, if Adam and Eve hadn’t sinned, and the whole of the human race had lived in unfallen splendor until I showed up, I’d have done it, and ruined it for everyone. Doggone me.