In which I'm back, to write again about death

 Is death the only thing that can pull me back to blogging? Eh, maybe. I write more on Facebook these days, if I write at all. Three children don't leave much time for typing or holding a pen. Anyway, I didn't want to think this out on social media because it will seem too linked to whatever specific events are going on at the moment, rather than an accumulation of thoughts. 

Basically I'm just tired of the appropriate public-facing grief language of Christians while at the same time using it myself and seeing its use. I think it's a social media problem, because we're all our own little news agencies and there are people who do not deserve to be let in to our inner sanctums waiting for a comment or an update or whatever. So of course we fall back on the tried & true language of faith, and we do of course find comfort in these ideas, but it also just seems so incredibly shallow. 

We look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. 

So true. So very, very true. But death, even a good death, even a waited for at the end of a long life death, still has pain and sorrow because it is still a loss. And I wish that we had a lot more openness around that, because honestly death is pretty shitty. Or if not death itself, being left alive without that person in this world anymore. 

I guess it's impolite to say that. It's not comforting. It's not meaningful. 

I like that part in the Bible where, before he raises Lazarus from the dead, Jesus weeps. I think that's the honesty I'm looking for. This isn't an honesty that should be shared publicly, at least not for people like me. So by all means, let's keep posting the comforting Christian phrases about death when we have to be public. The public doesn't need our deepest emotions. But hopefully as we mourn the losses that time will be sure we experience, we are allowing ourselves to feel that pain as well. It is part of our humanity. We are not less than Christian to feel pierced by the sword of loss. 

Sunday Obligation Failings

A few years ago a friend complimented me on how I managed to make Sunday Mass with my two-under-two a regular thing. “Oh yes,” I thought to myself, “I really do have that dedication to my faith”. Ha!

When Mass was a 16 minute walk from the house it was easy to go, especially when it was our little family of four going and only one child was mobile.

Sunday Morning Meltdown

During those 7 long months when we were staying with family & resettling in Canada it was easy to go, because there was always a car or a ride at disposal and family to babysit the kids if they were too out of sorts to go.

Note my tired, tired eyes 

Unfortunately the last three years have been a new reality of churches far away and hard to get to, of ill health and exhaustion, and of us being lucky if we make one Sunday a month as a family. *cue gasps of horror from my regularly attending Catholic friends*

I keep telling myself that it shouldn’t be this way. When I was growing up I don’t think we ever missed a Sunday. Many of my friends have young kids and no vehicles and they still manage to go regularly. Of course, comparison is the thief of joy (my latest favourite truism). And, of course, every situation is unique. I had some health problems that were making it really difficult to get out & about and these didn’t even get sorted out until a year ago, at which point I discovered that it was the health issues and not some personal moral failing that were making it all so difficult.

Now it is hard again. The 1.5hr trek across town to the nearest church. The never ending heat and the various ailments that Annie & I have contracted from it. The stress & exhaustion of settling into a new country, even tho’ I’ve done this so many times that I hardly notice it until I stop and think. I know that I need to be gentle with myself but this is something I have never been good at.

I’m pretty sure that my root sin is pride. The last three years or so have been a great lesson in humility. I can no longer take comfort in moral superiority simply because my life has been too easy, because for a long time it has *not* been easy… but at the same time I always retain that fear of too many excuses. It’s like that sledgehammer of a truism “everyone is busy” that you can sometimes here in response to claims that your life has been busy so you’ve failed xyz.

At this point in time I’m not sure what my plan is. Perhaps I have no plan. Life changes very quickly in Shanghai. We try to keep up with liturgical celebrations at home. We pray. We sing hymns. We make plans for Mass every week and more often than not, not going is determined en route when I discover that I’m just too unwell in the heat or from a questionable stomach etc. One day the heat will lessen and one day, perhaps, our stomachs will adjust to the food and then, oh yes, things will be easier. Until that day, I remember my Great Grandparents, living in Saskatchewan in the Thirties and happy to have a priest visit their township once a month.

Resting together in St Basil's Cemetary, Yorkton SK

Our Quest for a Parish -- some thoughts on the TLM & why I love Dominicans

Moving back to Canada, especially moving to a metropolis, has brought with it all the fun & frustrations of finding a new parish to call home. In Greater Vancouver there are too many choices and unfortunately none are within walking distance of our home. This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t lived within reasonable walking distance of a parish and it is rather frustrating at times – more on that later.

Because we aren’t within walking distance of a Catholic Church, we had to approach the whole “find a new parish” question a bit differently. Did we go with a parish in our city? A parish in our transit zone? A parish near the sky train? Or do we seek out a longer commute for a unique parish community?

The initial answer when we moved here was the last one. Over the years my fondness for Latin has developed into a love of the Latin Mass, both the ordinary & extraordinary! In Cambridge we often attended the 9am Latin Mass at our dear Fisher House, and when we went to Berlin it made sense for us to attend the nearby Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) parish as we had an easier time with the Latin than we would’ve with the German. So when I reminded David that Vancouver boasts a TLM parish, he thought that would be a good place to start our search for a parish.

If you ever get me started on the Latin Mass I could probably bend your ear for a good hour or so. It really carries the dignitas that I believe is fitting for the Mass. After all, Christ is coming to us in the flesh – our worship should be a fitting reflection of that blessed miracle. I’ve written elsewhere about why I wear a head covering and perhaps one day I’ll write about why I love altar rails (in short – it means those of us with bad knees can still kneel to receive Holy Communion). Because the TLM is relatively rare, we are often blessed with the best of the best when it comes to liturgy & music. These are communities offering all their talents in creating something beautiful and worthy, communities formed with a real commitment to the beauty & sanctity of the Mass. I don’t believe that this is only possible in TLM parishes, in fact I know from personal experience that it’s not, but the reality is that not every church has the willing resources/enthusiasm/encouragement to make this happen. Yes, it is in Latin. No, that doesn’t mean you need to have studied Latin extensively to get it. There are always handy little books with translations into English (or German or Spanish or Cantonese). And the homily is, get this, in the vernacular. And if you can manage “amen” and “et cum spiritu tuo” you’ve got down most of the responses right there. See, I’ve just made you into an instant expert.

Our experiences at Holy Family were, for the most part, wonderful. The community was so welcoming of our whole family and the parish is full of children so the antics of two more restless toddlers were mere drops in the pond. I found that the older children at the parish were very helpful & polite and that there was a nice level of sympathy & commiseration between all of the mothers (and some fathers!) who ended up spending most of the Mass trying to quiet their restless/active/tantruming children in the back. It is the only parish I have been to where I have felt that my children’s age-appropriate behavior was just that – age appropriate, expected, and understood. It’s not that other parishes I’ve attended are anti-child by any means, but I suppose it’s just that the sheer numbers of young families at Holy Family meant that young families/large families were in the majority. After Mass there was always a lunch & social time in the hall, and on any special feast days there was a potluck. It’s a rare treat to see a parish that is so connected as a community.

There is a streak of ultra-conservatism present among some of the people attracted to TLM that I’m not comfortable with, but to be fair there is a streak of ultra-liberalism among some of the people attracted to some regular parishes so you just have to sort the wheat from the chaff... At times it was frustrating running up against certain attitudes, especially from certain people who really should know better, so my heart wasn’t 100% happy. I loved the community, loved the liturgy, but worried about some of the attitudes we’ve run across. Can I stress again that this isn’t a TLM problem? It’s a people problem , an education problem perhaps, and it’s something we could’ve, would’ve, continued to work past. Unfortunately it was taking us over an hour to commute to Mass and until recently Sunday was the first day of my weekend, meaning that I was inevitably exhausted on Sunday morning and getting out the door at 9:30 was hard. It also rains a really absurd amount here and we don’t have a car, and getting to the church was a rather long journey of train & bus transfers. Mass attendance was dropping worryingly low.

It was time to find an interim solution. We started off by heading one city over to a parish in New Westminster. The plus side was that the church was just off of the train line we live near. The down sides were its position on top of a ridiculously steep hill and its possible leanings towards that airy-fairy-“spirit of Vatican II” culture that I’d already had enough of when we left BC in 2006 (it seems to be endemic in this part of our fair country).

Back to the drawing board, or more specifically the Google Map board. There was another parish on our train line, although it was one zone over (which in mercenary terms means that it costs twice as much to get there Mon-Fri before 6:30pm). The downside is that it is huge, although we’ve been cultivating a pride in how large the parish is. To give an idea, there is a Mass every 2-3 hours from sunrise to sunset on Sunday, and even with the large sanctuary & balcony & crying room it is still standing room only at every Mass. It is difficult to find a place in such a large community, especially given our limited free time, but in time, in time... and at least with so many Masses on Sundays it is a lot easier to go even when Sunday morning isn’t working.

The biggest plus for me about this parish is that it is run by Dominicans. Cambridge certainly inspired me with a love for Dominicans, and the preaching at St Mary’s has not disappointed (Fr Gabe!). It even got the seal of approval from my [Baptist] mother. The music may be a little more modern than I am naturally attracted to, but the choir is good nonetheless. It’s not overflowing with large young families, but it has its fair share of noisy toddlers & babies, meaning that mine aren’t the only ones causing shenanigans, and Fr Gabe in particular has always gone out of his way to make young families, us, feel welcome. And on more mundane notes, we can get there & back again on one ticket if we rush AND there is a Tim Horton’s coffee shop less than three minutes from the church!

David & I still discuss our parish options. We’ve moved to new cities so many times that I know it’s not a simple matter of finding a parish and sticking to it. It would be different if we lived within walking distance of one, but as we don’t I feel we have some flexibility to look around. We both miss attending the TLM, but there are the practicalities to consider. Right now I am mostly just grateful that we have the options of amazing liturgy & fantastic preaching in the Archdiocese of Vancouver. The rest will sort itself out in time.

Our Liturgical Year -- Part II

Continuing the recap of how we try to follow our Church's feasts & fasts with two toddlers underfoot. You can find Part I over here.

Christmas:
I will be covering off our 2014 Christmas celebrations in a separate post, but this is the rough idea. There’s always lots going on between December 22nd (David’s birthday) & January 7th (Ukrainian Christmas) so it’s a fun couple of weeks:

•  we always go to a Vigil Mass on Christmas Eve and do dinner out/take away to keep the day low on stress & rushing. 

•  we bake a birthday cake for Baby Jesus. The children decorate it and on Christmas Day we sing Happy Birthday & blow out candles. This is something my parents always did with me and I love it. 

I'm pretty sure this is around the time they discovered that the sprinkles were delicious.

•  we celebrate the Feast of Christmas until January 7th. The Feast of the Epiphany (Wisemen visiting Jesus) is the end of the 12 Days of Christmas, but I also like to do a nod to my Ukrainian heritage by celebrating Ukrainian Christmas on January 7th. 

Cabbage rolls, perogies, sausage, & pickles. Could it get any better?

•  Santa fills stockings & we all get presents to help Baby Jesus celebrate His birthday. Because the children are so little I’ve found that they have an easy time understanding that Baby Jesus is having a birthday party but because He loves them He is giving them presents, instead of just receiving presents. 

With no good place to hang stockings, and no nice stocking to hang anyway, we went the gumboot route.

Lent:

40 days of penance, fasting, & abstinence. As the children grow I hope to include more family prayers etc, but right now less is more for small attention spans and it seems this year we have definitely marked the season out as different.

•  Shrove Tuesday will forever be “pancake day” in my mind thanks to our years in Cambridge. Even the pubs served pancakes! So we make sure that we have pancakes for a meal or for dessert that day.

Crepes with a homemade chocolate orange filling. She was a happy baby. 

•  My children love singing “alleluia”, so this year I printed off an “alleluia” colouring page which they coloured in. We then had a procession through the house, singing alleluia. Then we “buried” it in the closet, where it’s staying until Easter, at which point it will come out & stay on their bedroom door. They’ve fallen in line with the liturgy & there are no alleluias to be sung in this house until Easter. I’ve had many a good laugh at hearing them remind whomever lapses – usually a “no alleluia, Baby Annie, no alleluia” from Walter or a “no ‘leu-ya” from Annie. 

A brief moment of team work. 

• Ash Wednesday we go to Mass and everyone gets a cross. We wear ours all day, and again it’s something that I find is a good point of conversation. 

•  Us grownups have our various Lenten sacrifices & fasts, but for the kids we’ve stuck with the “no alleluias” and it is working really well this year. 

•  We have a “Lenten path” colouring page on our fridge. We colour in one square each evening and see how close we’re getting to Easter. It’s been a big hit & Walter loves showing it off to anyone who comes over. 

How our pathway looked on Holy Saturday

• We’ll be taking down/veiling all of our religious images & statues as we get closer to Holy Week. (in theory. This year that proved to be one thing too much!)

Easter:
Holy Week is really difficult with two small children. The Masses are beautiful, but long, and with two children there’s not much chance of getting through the Easter Vigil. It’s a major sacrifice for me to give up these Masses, but for family harmony I need to let go – it makes the whole celebration a lot more stressful otherwise. When they are old enough to sit through the Vigil I think we’ll turn it into a special rite of passage. It’s a beautiful, ancient liturgy and so very special, but it does go on for 2-3 hours and that is so hard with toddlers. One of the blogs I read suggested trying to do something at home to mark the events of each day (Last Supper, Crucifixion, etc) and I am going to have a think about that, because I think it will make it a little more meaningful for the children. But I haven’t figured all that out yet. What I do know:

• We’ll all be making Easter baskets, which will be filled & ready for morning on Easter Sunday. A little chocolate, candy, small toy, & their new Easter clothes will go a long way to spreading some extra joy that morning!

It ended up being evening since their Baba wanted to be there to watch them open their baskets. It was a lot of fun!

• Easter Eggs will be dyed. Nothing fancy but still a lot of messy fun. They were really proud of their eggs last year

A bonus for me -- my mum took the eggs home with her so I didn't have to figure out what to do with a dozen hard boiled eggs (ok, it wouldn't have been hard -- salad lyonaise is the obvious answer)

• Alleluias will ring loud & clear, and so will the Easter music.

• We celebrate Easter for eight weeks, until Pentecost. So, family visits & dinners, a few extra treats, and a lot of excitement.

Our Little Liturgical Year -- Part I

One thing that I really enjoy about these early years of being a mum is building our family traditions. There is such a wealth to draw on between childhood memories, the different cultures we’ve been exposed to, and our faith traditions.

The liturgical year, as we practice it as Catholics, fits with the rhythm of the seasons. Advent, that great period of longing, waiting, & preparation comes in those last few weeks of winter when the nights are darkest, and at Christmas we welcome the infant Christ, light of the world, while we notice the slight lightening of the evenings after the Winter Solstice. Easter falls with the first rush of spring, especially here, and the little buds sprouting on empty branches or the green shoots pushing up amongst the brown sludge of winter’s remains provide the perfect setting to meditate on death, life, & rebirth. Aside from these four longish periods in our year there are all the little feasts & solemnities to celebrate, a way weaving our family life into the greater life of the Church. This year, for example, I am going to find a way for us to start marking the Feast of St Anthony, our family’s patron saint.

Of course, being a busy mum of two toddlers it is necessary to retain some reality & prudence when marking out our feasts & fasts. The children are keen to join in with activities, but they have little attention spans & very big propensities for making messes & distractions. There is always a lot that I can accomplish in my imagination, but I’ve found that a less-is-more approach works the best right now. There will always be time to build on our activities as they grow. I know that these are just quick & little ideas, but I’ve found that even a small change in routine is enough to inspire toddlers with excitement & interest. It’s the first step to teaching them to let their faith alter how they live their lives, and it gives us a really fun way to interact as a family.

The Smallest Scale:

Every Sunday is for feasting! I’ve noticed that the Catholic world really loves the post-Mass doughnut, and there is usually no exception in this house (or at least the post-Mass banana muffin for the smallest members of the family). The children aren’t yet involved in dinner too much, because the things I make aren’t high on the toddler approval list, but I do try to shake up their regular eating routine as well & do something fun when I can. David & I usually indulge in some form of Sunday Roast (a great British tradition that I’ve been happy to bring back to Canada—the leftovers are repurposed into another meal or two for following weeks) and I’ve been documenting this on Instragram under #wias (What I Ate Sunday).

The opposite of Sunday, every Friday is for penance as we mark the weekday of Christ’s crucifixion & death. Like the majority of our fellow Catholics, we abstain from meat on this day. We are out in the world enough that it often does feel like a sacrifice – my office’s cafeteria always seems to smell like bacon all day on Friday and there are enough special events involving food on Fridays that it is not always the easy road to take. But I like doing something that allows us to live our faith without having to make a big showy deal of it -- and it certainly has prompted a few conversations with people who know that we regularly are happy to be carnivores. I also think it’s important as a reminder of how lucky we are to be able to choose not to eat meat, rather than having that choice thrust upon us by poverty. Of course, Friday is also our family fun night, so we’ve tried to find a way to incorporate that in—most Fridays we make pizza from scratch. It’s something fun we can do together and which can be easily tweaked to include meat for some but not all when non-Catholic friends & family join us for the evening.

Advent:

The Catholic world has a gamut of different things to do to celebrate Advent at home. It’s a season of repentance & preparation, that time of great longing when we realise how much we need salvation & wait to welcome Christ at Christmas. In our house:

• David is allowed to start playing Christmas music on the First Sunday of Advent, but we don’t put any decorations up until Gaudete Sunday (the third Sunday of Advent)

• This year we celebrated the Feast of St Nicholas with chocolate Santas & Christmas pajamas. The kids put their shoes on the window for St Nicholas to fill. We have a little talk about who St Nicholas is and about how he is going to bring presents to help us celebrate Jesus’ birthday:

Sneaking into their room to put presents on the windowsill while they slept was no small feat!

• We have been transient for so long that investing in an advent wreath hasn’t seemed prudent. Thus a family tradition was born – each year we make our advent wreath. Ideally we forage on a nature walk for winter greenery with which to weave it, but this year the pickings seemed a bit sparse (although next year I know where to harvest my holly!) so we hit up the dollar store. We aren’t always great with remembering to light the candles, since toddlers + fire are not the best combination and it can be difficult to find a good place to keep the wreath lit, but the kids are always excited to be involved in the project and really love lighting the candles & saying the prayers.

"Ducks", bows, and bells -- Can you tell that toddlers picked these decorations?

We can enjoy fire when Baby Annie's contained. Walter kept telling me that it was hot. 

• chocolate filled Advent Calendars to help us count the days until Baby Jesus’ birthday party.

7 Quick Takes -- Vol. 21, or mostly the No Sleep Blues

--- 1 ---

You might be familiar with the plight of Meriam Yehya Ibrahim. I saw brief mention of it on the news the other night, and I’ve read more in-depth articles via my Facebook feed. A friend of mine wrote an excellent article with all the information one needs in order to help voice outrage at this case to the appropriate people. Spare a minute, click the relevant links, and add your voice to ours. Saints Felicity & Perpetua, pray for us!

--- 2 ---

St Felicity is the saint that I chose for Emily, so I have felt particular outrage at Meriam’s story (as she has been likened to a modern day St Perpetua/St Felicity). SS Perpetua & Felicity were some of the first non-Biblical saints that I’d heard of. I thought maybe I was being silly for choosing a martyr of the early church, because it didn’t seem like it might be relevant any more. Clearly I was wrong.

--- 3 ---

On a happier note, at least for me...David & I have been really lucky to get a couple date nights recently – we put the kids to bed and my parents obligingly watch them while we head to the late show. We’ve seen Neighbours, which I loved, and Godzilla, which I only found so-so. Driving home from the movie theater makes me feel so young, because late-night drives across Port Alberni always take me back to the summers when I was a desk clerk at the Esta Villa Motel and worked the late shift.

--- 4 ---

And in other news...this has been the week of no sleep blues. On Sunday the monsters babies both slept in so late that we were late for Mass because our human alarm clocks didn’t go off at all. After that, most nights, it’s been a party here from 2-5am. Not fun. Possibly, hopefully a growth spurt that will end soon???

--- 5 ---

I’ve been too sluggish feeling to contemplate leaving the house, so we’ve been trying to get our exercise this week by frisbee playing. It’s loads of fun to toss it around in the backyard after supper. Walter runs & plays & occasionally comes over to see what the adults are doing, and Emily sits outside in a little rocking chair, cheering & waving her legs & sucking on her shoes.

--- 6 ---

Although this has been a week of no sleep blues, I’ve at least been rockin’ in the kitchen when I finally haul my butt in there. Highlights – Long Boy Cheeseburgers (and thanks to my cousin for an old Menu Plan Monday that led me to these babies), buffalo wings, honey mustard pork roast with crackling....so good. And both kids have been eating like there’s no tomorrow, with Walter even saying a big “yeah!” to the question of if he liked mama’s special chicken.

--- 7 ---

Brain too fried to come up with another take, so here’s the theme song for this week (Incredible String Band's No Sleep Blues)

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

Emily's Baptism

I’m totally behind on baby-blogging. They’ve been growing and aging and hitting milestones and, while their new talents haven’t passed me by, life’s been its usual crazy and there’s not been much writing time. But before I get to all that, I should cover off Emily’s baptism.

It took seemingly forever to get Emily baptised. First there were the non-stop scheduling conflicts between the mandatory baptism course at St Etheldreda’s and Thesis Madness. Then, when that was finally resolved, there was the date – late January in the hopes that David’s sister Sarah, Emily’s Godmother, would be able to join us (she wasn’t, although that was probably just as well since we were moving five days after the baptism so life was pretty hectic). Emily ended up being 5.5 months old before we finally had it done. I think this is a new family record for delayed infant baptism/dedications.

This year, I knew what to expect with a Catholic Baptism celebration, so I actually got really excited about it beforehand (very rare for me). I knew we couldn’t expect a big turnout of friends, since most of our close friends had moved away from the area, and we were relatively new at our Parish so I didn’t expect it to have the same family-feel that Walter’s Baptism did, but I wanted to ensure we had some special memories made for our little Em.

Aside from the sacrament & commitment to raise the children in our faith, my biggest gift to my babies on their Baptism day is their gown. Finding a gown for Emily was a huge challenge, because I want something minimalist and affordable, which is pretty darn hard when these celebrations seem to be the baby version of a wedding in the commercial world! I ended up hitting up Waterside Antique's in Ely, where I found a Victorian baby’s gown. It was in pretty good condition and, best of all, it was plain & gave me ample space for embroidery. It didn’t take me long to figure out a design, centered around the August birth flower (the gladiola) and with a little discipline in ensuring I didn’t sit idle while watching a movie in the evening, I managed to finish it on time. My mum contributed to the outfit by knitting a pair of little slippers for Emily to wear, with buttons from one of my old baby outfits.

Our priest, Fr Tony, paid us a personal visit to discuss the Baptism details. I loved this. It was nice to be able to welcome him into our home and discuss the few details in a relaxed setting. I was surprised to learn that he automatically plans for baptisms outside the Mass, just as I was surprised to see that this is what friends have been doing recently. When he found out that we were hoping, and expecting, that Emily’s baptism would occur during the Mass he was really excited. I’m not sure why practicing Catholics have it outside the Mass, so perhaps someone can fill me in. I have always felt that the baptism/dedication/blessing is something to be done with the support of the church community, so having something more private seems really foreign to me.

Emily’s Baptism day was lovely. Looking back at the pictures, I can see how exhausted we were, but I didn’t feel it on the day. We felt so blessed that Emily’s Godfather, Rob, and his lovely wife Emma were able to join us for the day as Emma was pretty near the end of her pregnancy and I remember how exhausted the thought of any travel made me when I was at that stage. After Mass they came back to our place for a small lunch celebration (menu: wild rice soup, buns, ham, cheese, homemade sausage rolls, wine, fizzy juice, cake). We had such a lovely time celebrating with our dear friends, and were glad that we got to see them so close to our leaving Cambridgeshire.

One proud Godfather

Emma, Rob, Emily, Walter, David, & Me (and St Etheldreda's hand in the reliquary behind us)

Learning from my mistakes -- this time, buy a cake and add writing in chocolate letters. So much easier than baking and decorating it myself!

And, of course, the celebration of the Sacrament was lovely and stamped with Emily’s own feisty personality – she insisted on blowing raspberries through most of the homily & prayers. We had people come up after Mass to give her blessings & congratulate our family. It was such a great reminder of how we are part of a community of faith, no matter how long or short are stay at a particular parish is.

Blessing with Chrism oil

Her beautiful Baptismal candle

fun with daddy!

Left to her own devices -- kicking her way free!

Mantilla? What's up with that!

Every so often an article or two appears in the Catholic blog world about “veiling” at Mass, or in layman’s terms, women wearing head coverings (for the most part mantillas/chapel veils). It’s probably just a sign of the blogs I’m attracted to, but the articles I’ve read are almost always about women adopting this practice and then promoting it, rather than ones declaiming it as oppressive and archaic (which, since it’s not required, wouldn’t really make sense as an ‘issue’).

I am one of the women who has decided to adopt a head covering at Mass. And, like many other modern-day Catholic women who have made this change, it came with some soul searching and trepidation. Chapel veils weren’t quite an anomaly with me – my dad’s parents went to a Brethren Church where all the women wore hats or chapel veils, so it wasn’t a completely new concept. It was always associated with the very literal scripture interpretations that many people see as Brethren legalism, but this old-school Mennonite modesty just seemed quaint and sweet and very much belonging to my Grandparents and nothing to do with me.

It wasn’t until I read a book in which, and I summarise as I can’t remember the book, an atheist points out to a Catholic protagonist that if Catholics really believed Christ was present in the flesh, he assumed they would act quite differently than they do at Mass. There would be less chatter and mindless following of the liturgy, and more reverence & awe since God is physically present. This struck me quite deeply, because if you look around at Mass it’s usually pretty clear that a lot of us are distracted and not too focused on the miracle happening in front of us. I’m not trying to suggest that we don’t believe that Christ is present, but we don’t really own it.

If I want to live like I believe Christ is physically present at Mass, how should that alter my behavior? The words that came to my mind were “sacred space” and “holy ground”. This got me thinking about all the references in the Bible to physical reactions to sacred spaces. When Moses sees the burning bush he removes his sandals because he is on holy ground. That is the reaction I felt I should be having when I receive the Eucharist, but shuffling forward in the communion line wasn’t really giving a visible indicator that I acknowledged I was in the presence of the Holy. The more I thought about it the more I remembered scenes from Bible stories in which the person encountering God covers, or uncovers, their head or feet.

I decided to start playing around with the idea of head coverings. I wasn’t ready to take the plunge, but I usually tried to ensure that I wore something nicer in my hair when I went to church. It felt like my own little way of acknowledging that I was on holy ground. And around me, in the blogs that I follow or on news sites that I read, other women were talking about adopting head coverings. It seemed that there was a quiet revolution going on. I shared my thoughts with David, and he & Walter decided to give me a chapel veil for Christmas. I was thrilled with their choice. It was good to know that David supported me in this, and I knew that once the money had been spent I’d feel compelled to wear the veil even if my shyness made me want to keep sitting on the fence.

I’ve been wearing a chapel veil to Mass fairly regularly now since January. When I’m going to a church with people who knew me pre-head-covering, I tend to feel awkward about the change in my appearance. And as so many other women have said, the worry is always that people will think we’re doing this to show our piety or because we’ve suddenly become weirdly conservative. It’s hard standing out. But this is just a reaction of me to myself – chances are that the people in the surrounding pews aren’t staring at me and thinking I’m a throwback freak of nature to the 1950s. In some ways it’s made me friendlier to other people in the congregation – instead of withdrawing into myself I try to smile more and be more approachable so that I don’t seem like some holier-than-thou parishioner.

I find that once I get over my discomfort of sticking out, I prefer to wear my chapel veil. Again, as so many others have said, it creates a special space. When I pin my veil on it is a physical reminder to myself that I am setting aside this time and this space for God. It is my way of acknowledging to Him that I know this place is sacred and that I honour it. It gives a new intimacy to our relationship – I feel that I have set myself aside for Him for the Mass. Yes, my children can be distracting. Yes, my thoughts can be distracting. But, perhaps because I’ve already done something to alter my normal state of being, somehow they seem less distracting than before.

an awkward veil selfie. Note: David points out that I'm probably the only Catholic woman to sport a mantilla and a nose ring!

And on a more practical note, since I’ve seen laments elsewhere – it’s not been that difficult to keep it on even with two babies. I just fix it in place with a couple of bobby pins, and voila! They haven’t tugged it off yet.

If you're interested in reading more stories like mine, please check out the 2013 Advent Veiling Linkup

7 Quick Takes (Vo. 9): The Troubles of Converting

 

I recently read an interesting article on 10 Reasons why it's Hard to Become Catholic. It really got me thinking about my own conversion and the difficulties that I faced both then and now. As it turns out, I only really identified with 7/10 of original points, so I thought I might as well send this out as my Friday Quick Takes.

 

--- 1. Theological Submission ---

 

This really is a big one. I initially thought I could never become Catholic because there was no way that I could say in all truth that 'I believe and profess all that the holy Catholic Church believes, teaches, and proclaims to be revealed by God' (the statement of faith that one makes at their confirmation). It was going through RCIA, and understanding what the Church really taught on things that I struggled with, that brought me to the place that I could make that profession with a clear conscience. Now when I have a question about something I've heard or read I know that I should just ask someone who knows. I always have questions -- it was my questioning of things that led me away from Protestantism, but I find that the answers are better now (usually a bit meatier than someone's opinion backed up with a bit of scripture).

--- 2. Priests ---
 

This was sure a big one. I've found myself both lamenting the lack of social relationships with priests yet being put into a position of having to defend this supposed negligence to other critics. When I consider how busy the parish is I can totally understand why it is so difficult to connect with my priest on the personal level I would've enjoyed with pastors in years past. But if I get too glum about this I just remember what my Gramma always says: if you find yourself complaining that people aren't coming up to you & being friendly, then you need to consider that they could be just as shy as you are. So you need to make the first step towards having a friendship and being welcoming. So David & I try to be friendly and welcoming to our priests, rather than expecting them to make the first move. As we're both fairly shy and naturally anti-social it is an effort for both of us, but we think it is worth the effort. We want our children to grow up respecting and being comfortable around the clergy.

--- 3. Liturgy ---
 

There are some really bad liturgies out there. I try hold back my criticism, because I realise that the appalling music is usually because there are only a handful of people in the parish willing to commit to providing music on a weekly basis (and thus we're at their mercy, and if you don't like it you should try & change it), but the problem does sometimes go deeper than just badly played organ and horrible song choices. Sometimes we're lucky, and can choose a church that suits us. Other times there is only one church in the area, so we have to make the best of the situation. Fortunately I grew up being subjected to really bad (dead!) Protestant services whenever my family went on vacation so I'm used to making-do. My gut instinct when I hear people complain is usually to think, 'what are you doing to fix the situation'. I think we have a responsibility to be involved in our parishes, and if the liturgical problem is something fixable then it's a good opportunity for new people to get involved.

--- 4. Dealing with Controversial Catholic Stuff (abortion, divorce, contraception etc) ---
 

This was the easiest thing for me to come to terms with when I converted as I found my conscience already in line with Catholic teaching. Abortion was a no-brainer, contraception has always struck me as creepily unnatural when used to prevent pregnancy, and Jesus' thoughts on divorce are so explicit that it still boggles my mind that more fundamentalist churches don't speak out about it. I would say that digging deeper into Catholic teaching, like reading Humanae Vitae, was incredibly fruitful for helping my thoughts on the matters to go deeper than just a gut-moral-reaction.

--- 5. Financial Discomforts ---
 

Not a big one, but one that used to crop up every now and then as an idea, usually when I'm looking for work and realise that I can't apply for any church positions that aren't Catholic (as most churches actually want you to attend them when you work for them). It also comes up now & then when David is looking for work, because we have to carefully read the 'faith/mission' statements of any Christian universities he applies to in order to ensure that we can fit in with them to some extent. Becoming Catholic really is a commitment to one church in a way that joining many Protestant churches isn't. With the passage of time the theological points that once separated many Protestant churches have become blurred or forgotten by many of their members, so I think it is easier to move around 'career-wise' within that structure.

--- 6. Non-Catholic Ridicule & Estrangement ---
 

I can deal with the ridicule, because I figure that the 'friends' who post offensive, anti-Catholic articles on Facebook aren't making a cerebral connection between their posts and their friend(s). If it really bothers me, and it's not someone I regularly interact with, I just hide them or remove them. But the estrangement can be hard. It's really difficult being the odd one out in the family, and it's sometimes difficult (or at least frustrating), being the odd one out in groups of friends. Having Walter baptised is just one example of many -- I come from a family of Anabaptists and of course being Catholic I had my son baptised at only three weeks old. Although I was grateful that I didn't have to fight any battles over this, I can't help but notice that for Catholic friends and family it was a really noteworthy event (with special religious-themed presents and cards, and people being excited for its whole significance, not just because it was something that one does with babies). When our beliefs differ, we can't really share the experience on the same level, and this pains me.

--- 7. Catholic Ridicule & Estrangement ---
 

I've not really experienced ridicule, and perhaps estrangement is too strong a word to use now that I've gotten over my initial neophyte-awkwardness, but it is sometimes irksome being the convert in a room of cradle Catholics. I'm conscious of the Protestant things that I do (like quoting scripture or, *gasp shock horror* making up my own prayers, or not knowing the traditional prayers that everyone else can easily say). It bothers me a bit when I'm lovingly teased about these things. But most of all, I get offended by the superiority complex certain Catholics have. The condescending attitude that they take towards various groups of Protestants (groups which they know almost nothing about) drives me up the wall, and I always finds it puts up a barrier in the relationship. If you talk trash about evangelicals, for example, you're talking trash about half my family (and chances are you don't know your arse from your elbow, so I end up just thinking that you're ignorant). My conversion didn't eradicate the Christian I was before, it just took that Christian and made her faith grow a lot deeper and better.
 

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!