And a Little Child Will Lead Them

Audrey and I were good friends when we were young. In high school, our paths didn't cross very often as we simply didn't have many classes together.

But in middle school, things were different. On one occasion, she came to my house, and we ended up at the church. That wasn't so odd, because my brother and sister and I were in the church quite often after hours. It was almost a second home (since our dad was pastor there). And it was just a block away.

When you're twelve or thirteen, you begin to think of church differently. You notice that people don't worship the same. And you talk about the differences.

It's not like when you are young - and oblivious.

It's not like when you are older - and you are sure your way is the right way.

When you are young, you are malleable. You are eager to learn how you are different from your friends - and how you are the same. You have a great desire to open your world up and make new friends. Try new things. Experience new places.

Audrey and I found ourselves in the church sanctuary (a very small country Presbyterian parish). At first, we just played church. But then, we realized that we were drawing on different worship experiences. Soon, we were taking turns, explaining to each other what worship looks like at our church. How we do it. What the preacher does. What the priest does. What the people do.

We didn't quite grasp the finer points of each other's faith, but we were having fun. We were talking. We were showing, explaining, experiencing something very important.

Even at that young age, we felt the great desire to participate in ecumenism. To discover what we each believed - and to find common ground.

And like all good ecumenism, it was grounded in friendship and goodwill. There was no desire to win. We simply wanted to share.

I forget these things - now that I'm all grown up. I forget the friendship part and want to go right to the explaining part. I forget the desire to find common ground and find myself wanting, instead, to win.

I can still see Audrey in my mind, standing on the platform where my father stood every Sunday, explaining to me what the priest does in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

And I realize that I would love to go back to that childhood home and visit the parish where many of my friends received the Sacraments. What we were yearning for all those years ago, we've actually discovered.

True ecumenism leads to unity.

While we have grown up and gone different ways, in the most important way, we have come together. We are both part of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.

From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

“Christ bestowed unity on His Church from the beginning. This unity, we believe, subsists in the Catholic Church as something she can never lose, and we hope that it will continue to increase until the end of time. Christ always gives His Church the gift of unity, but the Church must always pray and work to maintain, reinforce, and perfect the unity that Christ wills for her…. The desire to recover the unity of all Christians is a gift of Christ and a call of the Holy Spirit” (n. 820).

And a Little Child Will Lead Them

Recipe For Happiness

From Today's Morning Prayer (Lauds)

Happy the nation whose lord is God,
the people he has chosen as his inheritance.

This morning's prayers brought back a memory to me from 2004. My father had died just weeks earlier, and that February night, I had a dream. I captured the memory in my spiritual journal (and it is posted below). In time, I realized that Dad was talking to me about the journey I was beginning - though I didn't know it yet. But I latched on to the word "happy" - and when I picked up a book by St. Augustine - Confessions - I ran across the definition of happiness (happy is the one who loves and serves God alone). It was an important moment in my journey home.

A year later, I was in RCIA class and eager to enter Mother Church. I asked God for a sign - a signal to show me that Dad was safely in the arms of God. I had written a poem about that dream, and I prayed for it to be published one day, and when I saw it in print, I would know that all was well with my father.

It was unprecidented. I had never published any piece of poetry - and I had never published anything in a magazine. But after my conversion, Canticle magazine did take that poem and publish it. And in that same issue, Father Ed Silvia had an article on Purgatory and what happens when we pray for someone who has already passed into the beatific vision. I knew I had my answer.


February 2004 -
I had a dream last night. It was not a metaphorical dream. It was real. Like being more awake than when I am awake. Dad sat in front of me along a shore. Tufts of grass dotted the peaceful seaside. Nothing disturbed the moment, not even the tide. There were no birds in the sky, no heavy breeze. Dad’s face was shining, full of love, his countenance radiant. He said “I love you.” And the love I felt for him was so great, so full, that I spontaneously responded, “I love you too, Dad.” Then, Dad became full of energy, bubbling over with things he wanted to say, and he began to speak fast and furious about something of great importance. None of the words made any sense. He was speaking in a language I could not understand. I tried to stop him, but he continued. I said, with some degree of irritation, “Dad, I can’t understand a word of what you are saying.” He stopped abruptly and looked off to his right—beyond my periphery—and paused. It was like he could see and hear someone that remained hidden from me. Then he looked at me again and said softly, lovingly, “I just want you to be happy.” In that moment, I had no memory of his death. I had no memory of anything that had happened in the previous two months. And so I said, almost laughing, “But I am happy!”

And then I remembered, Dad is dead.

And the thought came to me, how can I ever be happy again? I woke up crying. I knew that it had not been a dream. I had been with Dad. I had been permitted to hear him say I love you and to say it to him in return. I had not been permitted to know the wonderful truths that he had so wanted me to know, but I knew (and still know) that I will one day understand it all.

And maybe I’ll even be happy again.

*I now know that the words I could not understand - they were words of Truth, which God would translate for me through the power of conversion. In short, I would discover that One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. And, I would be happy. . .

Recipe For Happiness

The Visitor Tracker

On January 29, I added a visitor tracker to the blog. I'm fascinated by the thing. When I go to the map, I can see how many people have stopped by for a visit - and which countries they are from.

I realized that it is a very small glimpse into a very real mark of the Church. We say that the Church is the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. And we know that the word catholic means She is everywhere. She is universal.

If I had named the blog after any other Christian faith community, I don't think there would be so many people from so many countries interested in stopping by. Visitors come because they identify themselves as Catholic. Mother Church is everywhere; so her little ones are everywhere.

She isn't American-made. She isn't German-made. She isn't British-made. She is Christ's Church and she really did go into all the world.

The Visitor Tracker