After studying the Catholic faith a bit, I discovered most of my ideas surrounding house blessings were prejudices based on what I thought to be the Catholic faith practice. To a Protestant having objects blessed makes no sense, it looks like magical thinking from the Catholic side. Some people would be extremely careful with blessed objects, almost to the point of handling magical objects. But when you think a bit deeper, things start to make sense. Take the Holy Scriptures for instance: the image of the house is being used many times:

In the Old Testament, Moses builds a tent for God in the desert while the people of Israël wander for forty years. In that tent they keep the Ark of the Covenant and it’s a place of worship. After settling in the Promised Land, David promises to build a house for the Lord and his son Solomon will finish it. In the New Testament Our Lord uses the image of the house to say things about us and our lives. Our bodies are a Temple (House) for the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit wants to dwell in us. God get closer to a person than that. Talking about dwelling places is a major theme in the Scriptures, but at the same time everybody realises that God doesn’t need a tent, a house or even a temple. But God likes to be close to us and we like to have places to go to to worship him.

We still build houses for the Lord. We call them churches nowaday. It’s a place where we gather for the breaking of the bread, just like the first Christians did in the Scriptures. They came together in houses to have fellowship and worship. However, we aren’t people who only show our faith inside churches or temples. We are also called to live our faith outside. During Mass, or better: just before Mass ends this is made very clear when the deacon says or sings “Ite Missa Est”, “This is Mass”. It’s one of the very last things that’s being said during Mass, but it’s said in the present tense. So what follows next, THAT is Mass. At least, that’s how a priest explained it to me. This means that everything that’s important we do after we leave from Mass. Mass service prepares us for it.

What has this to do with a house blessing? I think you can think along the same lines about your own house. A house is a roof above your head, it allows us to eat in peace, to refresh ourselves, to rest, to invite people and all the other things that gives us energy to do what we are called to do. Working in the vineyard of the Lord becomes very complicated, if not impossible if you’re not rested, if you’re hungry, if you’re not at peace. We need our house as much as we need Mass to live our faith. And because I start all of my days in my house, I want to have it blessed, to make a statement everything starts with the Lord.

This goes much deeper than a superstitious protection against bad luck, the devil, fire and what not. Maybe God protects me from that, but I believe he would do that anyway, whether my house is blessed or not. If I want to protect myself against a fire, it would probably a better idea to install a smoke detector and other security measures than having a priest sprinkle everything with a few drops of holy water.

This ‘deep’ reason wasn’t for me the only reason to have my house blessed. Catholics love throwing a party. We just need reasons to do so. It’s a day of a housewarming party, having fun with friends too. That’s why I asked a priest friend to do the blessing instead of my own parish priest. Just to have a good excuse to have him come over here to have a lot of fun. And boy, did we had a blast that day. Maybe I need to invite him again for Epifany so I can have a blessing again.

A friend who was joining in the festivities took some pictures of the ‘event’. I’m walking around with a small bowl filled with holy water and Fr. Roderick has an aspergillum (a small metal container with a sponge in the head) to sprinkle holy water. He says a prayer when we arrive at a certain place that’s dedicated to that place and blesses it with the holy water.

So now all my friends who aren’t Catholic know why we bless our houses.

A small meditation and prayer

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I retweeted the tweet and asked my friends on Facebook for prayers. I said a prayer myself and went to bed. I don’t have a TV so I haven’t seen any footage of the Haiti quake. But I get really sad when I hear that the death toll is rising above 100,000 victims.  I can’t help looking up and ask the age-old question: Why?

Why must people who are already extremely poor suffer a natural disaster like this? What was their sin that they deserve something like this to happen. Rationally, I know all the answers, but my heart breaks and cannot help asking this question: why do bad things happen to good people?

I know 80% of the population is Christian (Roman Catholic), and I know that for Christians death doesn’t mean the end of everything, but still. The situation over there is beyond heart breaking. 80% of the people in Haiti are extremely poor. Most of them live on $2 or less a day. In the Americas, Haiti is the poorest country. Life in Haiti is hard, the quake makes living over there almost impossible. Everything has been destroyed. How on earth are people going to recover?

I wish I could do something to help them, but my budget is tight as well. I’m poor, measured by Dutch standards. I’m in the group with the lowest incomes in the country. But it’s nothing compared to the people in Haiti. I refuse to call myself poor. I may not have the financial means to really give money to the Red Cross. I’m counting on other people to do that. Instead I pray and want to ask the patron saint of Haiti, Our Lady of Perpetual Help, to care for the people of Haiti.

O Mother of Perpetual Help, patroness of Haiti, grant that I may ever invoke thy most powerful name, which is the safeguard of the living and the salvation of the dying. O Purest Mary, O Sweetest Mary, let thy name henceforth be ever on my lips. Delay not, O Blessed Lady, to help the people in Haiti whenever they call on thee, for, in all my needs, in all my temptations I shall never cease to call on thee, ever repeating thy sacred name, Mary, Mary.

O what consolation, what sweetness, what confidence, what emotion fill my soul when I pronounce thy sacred name, or even only think of thee. I thank God for having given thee, for my good, so sweet, so powerful, so lovely a name. But I will not be content with merely pronouncing thy name: let my love for thee prompt me ever to hail thee, Mother of Perpetual Help.

Lisa Hendey published an article on her blog and encouraged us to share it to spread the word on helping the people in Haiti, I will quote from it:

Emergency Brief 1; Haiti Earthquake

Situation:

A 7.0 magnitude earthquake has ravaged the island nation of Haiti. The quake occurred 10 miles southwest of the Haitian capital of Port-au-Prince just before 5pm EST (Haiti is also on EST). Port-au-Prince, with a population of over 2 million, has been devastated. CRS Country Representative Karel Zelenka reports that “Port-au-Prince was covered with a plume of dust from damaged buildings. We should be prepared for many thousands of dead and injured.”

The CRS offices were shaken, with some damage to the compound walls, but there were no injuries in the building. Two CRS staff members remain unaccounted for. Communication with Haiti remains very difficult.

There are also recently confirmed reports that the Archbishop of Port-au-Prince, Monsignor Joseph Serge Miot, was a victim of the quake. The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Port-au-Prince has sustained severe damage.

CRS Response:

CRS has made an initial commitment of 5 million dollars for immediate use in the relief effort. Our agency is geared up for a major emergency response to this severe disaster. CRS is mobilizing food and gearing up our emergency capacity, and deploying prepositioned emergency shelter and hygiene kits in Haiti, as well as bringing supplies in from the neighboring Dominican Republic.

From the Field:

Karel Zelenka, CRS Country Representative in Haiti: “I’ve been in earthquakes before. This was a major hit. And it was direct. Thousands must be dead.”

[…]

How to Help:

Donate via phone: 1-877-HELP-CRS
Donate online: the CRS website
Write a check: Catholic Relief Services
P.O. Box 17090
Baltimore, Maryland 21203-7090
Memo portion of check: Haiti Earthquake

Please consider helping. And if you have a blog, you might want to write a blog post about this too and ask your readers’ attention and make a plea to donate to the many organisations who are sending help at this very moment.

Links:

• Wikipedia article on Haiti
• EWTN website: prayer to Our Lady of Perpetual Help
• Lisa’s blog over at CatholicMom.com
• List of Catholic Organisations accepting donations for the Haitian Earthquake Relief

Photo by Macarius

When you click on ‘Read more’, you’ll find the lyrics of the chant.

1. Stabat Mater dolorosa
Iuxta crucem lacrimosa
Dum pendebat Filius

2. Cuius animam gementem
Contristatam et dolentem
Pertransivit gladius

3. O quam tristis et afflicta
Fuit illa benedicta
Mater unigeniti!

4. Quae moerebat et dolebat,
Pia Mater, dum videbat
Nati poenas incliti

5. Quis est homo qui non fleret,
Matrem Christi si videret
In tanto supplicio?

6. Quis non posset contristari,
Christi Matrem contemplari
Dolentem cum Filio?

7. Pro peccatis suae gentis
Vidit Iesum in tormentis,
Et flagellis subditum.

8. Vidit suum dulcem natum
Moriendo desolatum
Dum emisit spiritum

9. Eia Mater, fons amoris
Me sentire vim doloris
Fac, ut tecum lugeam

10. Fac, ut ardeat cor meum
In amando Christum Deum
Ut sibi complaceam

11. Sancta Mater, istud agas,
Crucifixi fige plagas
Cordi meo valide.

12. Tui nati vulnerati,
Tam dignati pro me pati,
Poenas mecum divide.

13. Fac me tecum, pie, flere,
Crucifixo condolere,
Donec ego vixero.

14. Iuxta crucem tecum stare,
Et me tibi sociare
In planctu desidero

15. Virgo virginum praeclara,
Mihi iam non sis amara
Fac me tecum plangere

16. Fac, ut portem Christi mortem
Passionis fac consortem,
Et plagas recolere.

17. Fac me plagis vulnerari,
Fac me cruce inebriari,
Et cruore Filii

18. Flammis ne urar succensus
Per Te, Virgo, sim defensus
In die iudicii

19. Christe, cum sit hinc exire,
Da per Matrem me venire
Ad palmam victoriae

20. Quando corpus morietur,
Fac, ut animae donetur
Paradisi gloriae. Amen

Photo by mollycakes

It started last night at 9pm with the “Dark Matins” sung in Gregorian by our new Schola: Schola Nova Gregoriana. They just started and this was their first performance and I must say that they really sound good already. It’s very promising. We’re really spoiled to have two full scholas in our parish and one very good choir. After they finished, the All Night Vigil started 45 minutes later. We prayed a full rosary, we listened to a reading from Isaiah 1:1-20, did the Litany of the Holy and Precious Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ; we did the Office of Readings for Good Friday, the second reading bySt. John Chrysostom, who was bishop of Constantinople († 407) and right after that we sung the Stabat Mater, the Solesmes version. I think that’s the most beautiful version I’ve ever sung. Everything was wrapped up by our priest at 7:00 am, by praying Lauds. I really REALLY liked doing it, hoping we have some more All Night Vigils in the coming year!

The nice thing is that I recorded some pieces of audio and took some pictures. I will post the pictures as a slide show over here, together with the “Dark Matins” and in a next post the Solesmes version of the Stabat Mater.
It could be that the slide show doesn’t work in all browsers, at least I tried to get it working in Firefox in Windows, which doesn’t work, but it does work in Internet Explorer. It also works in Safari for Mac. So if you have problems with the slideshow and really want to see it, I suggest using either Safari or Internet Explorer. I have no clue why it’s so difficult for Firefox to display the stuff. I’m sorry for the inconvenience!

[[Show as slideshow]]

So although I understand why Holy Communion isn’t distributed anymore at the communion rails, I think it’s a pity I hardly have the opportunity to receive that way.

For me, it’s part of my devotion to Christ to receive on the tongue. It’s a sign of reverence. But I don’t think that people who are receiving on the hand are being irreverent. Both forms are allowed and therefore we shouldn’t look down on one form or the other. After all, even the most ‘reverent’ way can be used very irreverent. Reverence is something that comes from the heart, not from a form. However, I do think one form can help one being more reverent more easily.

I think it’s a pity that, especially in some parts of my country, receiving kneeling on the tongue is perceived to be a way to express Traditionalism and ultra-orthodox Catholicism. Others think I want to receive like that because I’m a new Catholic. And I don’t think this is the case. For me, the way I receive Holy Communion is part of my communication with the Eucharistic Lord. Part of that communication is visible as body language. When talking to people I use body language, talking to the Lord is no exception to it. When I am talking to the Lord, I am kneeling. When I praise the Lord I am standing. When I listen to the Lord’s Word or a sermon, I am sitting. That’s my way of communicating. I always communicated like this with the Lord, becoming Catholic didn’t change that at all. In Protestant Churches you’re supposed to give yourself bread and wine (you take it) during the Lord’s Supper. As a Protestant I never succeeded in communicating with the Lord during the Lord’s Supper, it just didn’t work. Therefore I stopped going years ago.

Apparently, in the Catholic Church there have been people some time in the past who have made a drama out of this, because for some reason the whole ‘receiving on the tongue’ issue is a very delicate topic, at least in the church in the Netherlands. A lot of fellow Catholics will be irritated at least a bit when they see someone during Mass wearing a mantilla or other head covering and/or people who receive Holy Communion on the tongue while kneeling. It’s like there’s a sensitive spot where there used to be a big gaping wound which is ripped open. I really think this is unfortunate. I have no idea what exactly happened in the past, but apparently a lot of people got hurt very badly by all the things that happened in the sixties, seventies and part of the eighties. The have still scratches and bruises left.

According to the Vatican and high Vatican officials, the preferred way of receiving is on the tongue, kneeling. Receiving on the hand, standing is an indulgence. It’s allowed, but it should be an exception. In my country it’s the other way around. Right after these kind of messages, you’ll see Dutch Catholics revolt, because all the pain and hurt from the past is coming back again. This makes the matter complicated. One should be considerate of others, but at the other hand, it’s also not good to allow people to wallow in hurt feelings from the past. We all must move on at some point, but at the same time we shouldn’t hurt people who are already hurt and sensitive again. It’s very complicated for me to stand in the cross fire like that.

A while ago, the new prefect of the Divine Worship, Cardinal Cañizares Llovera, was interviewed by a Spanish newspaper and for some reason the things he had to say became headlines on all sorts of Catholic websites:

[La Razón:] Nevertheless, Benedict XVI has reiterated in some instances the propriety of receiving communion kneeling and in the mouth. Is it something important, or is it a mere matter of form?

[Cañizares:] – No, it is not just a matter of form. What does it mean to receive communion in the mouth? What does it mean to kneel before the Most Holy Sacrament? What dies it mean to kneel during the consecration at Mass? It means adoration, it means recognizing the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist; it means respect and an attitude of faith of a man who prostrates before God because he knows that everything comes from Him, and we feel speechless, dumbfounded, before the wondrousness, his goodness, and his mercy. That is why it is not the same to place the hand, and to receive communion in any fashion, than doing it in a respectful way; it is not the same to receive communion kneeling or standing up, because all these signs indicate a profound meaning. What we have to grasp is that profound attitude of the man who prostrates himself before God, and that is what the Pope wants.

[La Razón:] Nevertheless, Benedict XVI has reiterated in some instances the propriety of receiving communion kneeling and in the mouth. Is it something important, or is it a mere matter of form?

[Cañizares:] – No, it is not just a matter of form. What does it mean to receive communion in the mouth? What does it mean to kneel before the Most Holy Sacrament? What dies it mean to kneel during the consecration at Mass? It means adoration, it means recognizing the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist; it means respect and an attitude of faith of a man who prostrates before God because he knows that everything comes from Him, and we feel speechless, dumbfounded, before the wondrousness, his goodness, and his mercy. That is why it is not the same to place the hand, and to receive communion in any fashion, than doing it in a respectful way; it is not the same to receive communion kneeling or standing up, because all these signs indicate a profound meaning. What we have to grasp is that profound attitude of the man who prostrates himself before God, and that is what the Pope wants.

Source: Rorate Cæli, “Kneeling for communion and communion on the tongue:
“Profound meaning,” says Cañizares“

I agree with the Cardinal, but I also see how people are struggling with these developments. They have a visceral reaction to these kind of things because of their past. I think they won’t be as opposed as they are now when they really understand where both the Cardinal and I are coming from, but in the mean while they still think there are many ‘Rules from Rome’ that are forced upon them in a totalitarian way, therefore their reaction is to fight it in order to maintain freedom.

This must be a cultural thing. Maybe it’s because it was illegal to be a practicing Catholic for almost three centuries in this country. Catholics are living in an area dominated by Protestants, especially Calvinists. Protestant churches, especially Calvinist ones are ruled in a totally different way then the Catholic Church is. The National Synod of the Protestant Church is the body that imposes rules on which are affecting local congregations of elders. If the Synod agrees on something, this is the new reality. This also explains why there are so many schisms, but that’s another story. Point is that to me it looks like that Dutch Catholics confuse the Vatican with a sort of super National Protestant Synod. They don’t seem to realise that Catholic hierarchy doesn’t work like that. The rules in a certain Catholic area aren’t established by the Vatican, but by the local bishop, which means they can be different from the general rules. Doesn’t happen often, but technically that’s possible. Lot’s of those Catholics also don’t realise that Dutch bishops allowed them to do some things differently compared to other countries. Instead, they have this idea that all sorts of very old-fashioned rules are being reinstated again, and the only thing one can do is fighting very hard to retain their freedom. I want to stress that there’s nothing wrong with the Calvinist church model, in the sense that I don’t think it’s something intrinsically evil. If Calvinists are happy with that model, that’s fine with me. The point I want to make is that it’s not a Catholic model. The Catholic Church doesn’t function like this.

I’m lucky that receiving on the tongue is fairly normal in our parish, I cannot kneel because my knees won’t allow it. Also, kneeling slows down the whole queue of people behind you. Therefore I kneel and receive on the tongue when that’s possible. I also receive on the tongue standing when that’s safe. If a priest isn’t used to it, it can cause misunderstandings while receiving Communion and the last thing I want is to see Christ drop on the floor because a miscommunication between me and the priest. So in the current situation, receiving on the hand is unfortunately the safest way to receive.

I have a personal devotion to receiving on the tongue, kneeling. I show this way that I am 100% dependent on Him to live. If he doesn’t feed me with the spiritual food, my soul dies and I turn into a ‘zombie’. Apart from that factor, I think receiving on the tongue is way more intimate than receiving on the hand: it’s like getting a kiss from the Lord. Both aspects don’t necessarily go back to reverence in my case. But it’s just nicer for me to receive that way. Therefore I cherish the few opportunities I have to receive on the tongue kneeling. When I miss it very much, I just can go to Latin Mass to give my devotion a boost. In the mean time I just try to fit in during normal High Mass. I hope things will get easier in showing your own devotions publicly without people feeling offended or something in the future, when the negative feelings attached to the past won’t be as present as they are now.

God announces the birth of his Son, the Incarnate Word who is God, to the world using the Star of Bethlehem. What does this feast mean to me?

Although I was not baptised before I was an adult, this doesn’t mean I had a childhood where God was completely absent. I didn’t have a religious upbringing, although my mom comes from a very rigid Protestant family, at least I remember her telling stories of things she wasn’t allowed to do on Sundays. As a result she became very antagonistic to the whole concept of ‘organised religion’. My dad, who was raised Socialist (in the United States they would call that Communist) is very antagonistic towards religion too. Both my parents didn’t come to the church service in which I was baptised, similarly they failed to show up when I was being confirmed.

I remember how my dad used to tell me as a kid that people have invented God and all those religious stories because they couldn’t cope with life otherwise. People who were really strong and mentally healthy didn’t need such fairy tales to succeed in life. Religion, according to my dad, was the final grasp, something to cling on to prevent a mental meltdown. It’s for weak and dumb people.

Although the whole environment was anti-religion, this didn’t mean that religion was completely absent in my world. I remember having a sense of the existence of God when I was only seven years old. Of course I hid it in order to avoid being ridiculed, but to me God had to exist. I couldn’t say why, but the idea of no God in this world felt unnatural to me. Later on I put that whole notion away, because I started to learn stuff at school and of course because my parents made sure to feed their antagonistic talk in my brain. Every time I noticed I was semi-believing in God, I started to rationalise why this was irrational to think. I told myself I was making God up because I was feeling weak, because I was being stupid. I was fooling myself. I was smart enough so I wouldn’t need a god, I could figure things out by myself. I decided I wanted to go to university and become a scientist. I most certainly wouldn’t need a god over there. Looking back, I realise I always have been a spiritual person, but I always saw that as my ‘irrational’ and ‘weak’ side.

I finished High School with flying colours and wanted to do something with biology, since that was the thing I liked most. Studying biology or medicine sounded like a dream. I remember how my final year in high school and the beginning of university were anti-climatic in the scientific realm. I started to study a language, because I couldn’t do biology (because I lacked physics and chemistry) or medicine (for the same reason). I learned a bit about the philosophy of science and about the scientific method. I was taught at home that science would solve all problems mankind deals with, the question wasn’t IF science could solve it, but the question was WHEN science would solve it. But at one point people will die, people start wars despite having signed the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, we can send people to the moon, but cannot avoid a famine…

I was deeply disappointed in the world of science, the rational world and Atheism, because it didn’t give answers to why people are suffering in the world, why people need to die from hunger in a world full of riches. Some people are suffering and they don’t have to. Some people die of hunger, because we don’t want to help them. We don’t help them, because if we do, we can’t go on a holiday far away at least twice a year. The secular world has beautiful ideas, but they never take form.

And all those years God was there, lurking in the background, stretching his arms towards me: “I love you, why don’t you love me back? I put a star in the sky to show the world I saw the hunger, the pain, the wars, the suffering, the injustice. Rather than making puppets out of you I came down to you. I lived in poverty, I was cold, I was hungry, I was mocked and beaten. I was tortured, I was sentenced unjustified, I died on the cross to pay for everything that went wrong after mankind fell into sin. So we may start over again. You and me. Do you believe in Me? I want to be here for you. I know you better then you know yourself, and despite that I love you. Why don’t you take my hand, and walk the walk of life together with me?

What are we going to do this year? Are we trying to pull ourselves out of the swamp by our bootstraps? Or do we finally call in the troops to help us out because we’re stuck? Are we returning to the Lord to go home? How true is this: Home, Sweet Home. Go home, be fed with the Bread of Life and drink of the fountain of Life. Indulge yourself with compassion. Then, go out in the world to radiate the love and the joy to make the gloomy dark world a little bit lighter, brick by brick.

Media:

• Fr. Seraphim Beshoner, TOR shares a Epiphany story.
  

It was during one of the first day were I sat in Adoration in one of the front pews, at the right side of the aisle of the convent’s little chapel. My godmother was sitting next to me, kneeled in contemplation for the Lord. Just before going there I had a pastoral conversation with the priest that was travelling with us. You know I’m not a real social being, being in groups is hard for me. So one week of intensive interaction in a group took its toll and I needed some spiritual direction. I got some really great tips from Fr. O. but I still I was walking around with my soul under my arm, to use a Dutch expression. So I was totally ready to pour out my heart there in Adoration to the Lord, which went something like this:

“Lord, you know I’m having a hard time. You know what troubles me. You were there at that conversation with Fr. O. a minute ago. And now I’m feeling like I can’t take anymore. My cross is so heavy, I cannot carry it anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t do it on my own. I know nothing will ever happen that both You and I cannot handle, but I feel like the weight of the cross is crushing me. Help me, Lord. I want to follow you really badly, but I can’t do it right now.”

After that I took my rosary and started to pray a couple of decades, I asked the Lord’s mom to help me out too. After two decades I looked up at the monstrance and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I saw a picture of a heart with a crown of thorns around it, the top of it seemed to be burning and on top of of the heart was a cross. It looked a bit shadow-like and I wasn’t sure it was something that was pressed in the host and everybody was seeing it. I wasn’t sure I what I was looking at. I looked at the ceiling, at the floor everywhere but at the monstrance, expecting the image would disappear. It didn’t. So I kept watching the monstrance, wondering what was going on. I was wondering if I was delusional, seeing things that weren’t really there.

Back at our room I told my godmother what happened and she reassured me that it’s not unusual to have this kind of experiences. There were mystics having these kind of experiences all the time, according to her. She also told me what I had been seeing: the Sacred Heart of Christ. She also told me what it means: it’s Christ’s burning love for us. I realised it was His perfect answer to my plea for help.

I may sometimes think I cannot carry the cross myself and that I crush under its weight. But if I just focus on Christ’s love for me I can carry the burden, my yoke is easy and the burden light. Isn’t it great to have such a direct conversation with your Saviour? I was SO grateful to be a Catholic and having discovered Catholic spirituality and mysticism. I now have conversations with Christ in a way I never thought was possible until recently.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, thank you that you gave yourself to us, I consecrate myself fully to your Sacred Heart during every Mass. I receive you when I receive Holy Communion, so we give ourselves to each other. What else can I wish for? I love you, Lord!

When I was baptised in 1999, I only had some basic knowledge about God, Jesus and why it was important to believe in Easter. I was taught the basics of Reformed Presbyterian teachings and why they separated from Rome. The latter is worth a whole article in itself, because it’s a very peculiar way to interpret Church history. So I had catechism lessons for a little more than 9 months, I guess when I was baptised. In the years that followed, my faith began to grow and I developed the skills to inquire on my own. I had questions, but usually those questions were answered by delving a little deeper in Church history and theology.

At one point, I really had troubles with making sense of the theology surrounding the Lord’s Supper. It didn’t seem logical and consistent. Something was wrong, and I assumed at first it was my understanding of it, that was was wrong. So I really started to do serious Bible studies on the topic, I read what the church was teaching on it, and also how the Reformators taught it. It struck me that I noticed a difference between modern day Calvinism and Calvin himself. So slowly but surely I went ‘back in time’ by reading St. Augustine (who is being quoted extensively by Calvin). It struck me how there was a difference between St. Augustine’s writings on Predestination and Calvin’s interpretation of what St. Augustine is writing. That’s where the first cracks appeared in my foundation.

When participating in the Lord’s Supper, I felt like I was doing something different and calling it Lord’s Supper then the first christians in the Bible did. Something was definitely wrong, but I couldn’t tell what. I started to ask questions to my minister, but didn’t get any replies other then “it’s being taught so and so, and that’s how we believe it.” What I wanted to know is WHY we believed that and where does it show it’s the same as in the early christian period. Focus was on ‘remembrance’ of Easter, but I don’t need to participate in the Lord’s Supper to ‘remember’ what happened back then. Also: when it’s a sacrament like baptism which can be only administered by a minister, why are we supposed to take our own piece of bread and take the chalice ourselves? The longer I thought about it, the less it made sense to me. And asking questions didn’t help, because I wouldn’t get any answers. At one point I distilled from the Bible (basically from the Gospel of John) that things only make sense when Christ is truly present during the Lord’s Supper. And when I discussed that with the elder who came to visit me, he went pale and said I could no longer participate during the Lord’s Supper, because I had ‘papist’ beliefs. I was confused, because I didn’t believe that the piece of bread would turn into a piece of flesh or that the wine would turn in blood. It was just bread and wine with Christ being present in it, making it for us something different than plain wine and bread. With hindsight I believed exactly what the Catholic Church teaches in the doctrine of Transubstantiation, but I didn’t realise it until Catholics explained how the doctrine worked.

Between that period (2002-2003) a lot happened and a lot changed. My vision on what a sacrament actually is and does took form and I could explain what I believe and base that on Scripture. I also could explain my faith better. The tension between me and the congregation of elders and other Presbyterian members only got worse. Presbyterian friends who knew about Catholic teachings and Catholics themselves would point out to me I was reasoning very Catholic, it only looked Protestant because I was using the Protestant vocabulary. I always dismissed it, because I truly believed that my belief was a Protestant one. At one point I sensed the tensions were because I was believing different and it wasn’t Presbyterian Doctrine I believed in. But it also wasn’t Baptist, Pentecostal, Lutheran or anything else. It wasn’t Protestant, but I felt it was very close to believing Protestant.

Early 2008, so much later, I lost my job and after that the economy made a nose dive. I had plenty of time to think about stuff. What did I want with my life? What did God want me to do? And I have to admit, I didn’t like what I noticed. At all. I noticed I was on a path towards the Catholic Church, but I didn’t want to go there, at all! I really did look into Mass and other Catholic devotions, but they were so alien compared to what I was used to that I just refused to go there. It was nothing theological, it was just a gut feeling that withheld me from venturing deeper into Catholicism. It was a leap of faith I couldn’t make. I remember how I would tell everybody who would hear it that I wasn’t becoming a Catholic any time soon. That was last April. It’s now December and I’m a Catholic. So, something happened…

It started during the weekend of June 7 and 8 last summer. My friend H. celebrated his birthday in Utrecht, which is in the centre of the country, so I had to stay the night there, which wasn’t a problem. I remember repeating that very day that I couldn’t see myself as a Catholic ever after a conversation went into that direction. The day after, on Sunday, we all went to church together. I distinctly remember that service. It was a very good service, with good music, not too liberal, not too orthodox. The sermon was good, it was about the church being built out of living stones instead of being a building made of bricks. God is shaping us to make a church building out of living stones that fit perfectly. After the service I needed to go home by train. A train ride between Utrecht and Groningen takes about 2.5 hours. A lot of time to think about things.

Something bothered me. The church service was perfect, in the Presbyterian sense of the word. Everything was done right, the songs, the sermon, the prayers. But I was missing something, but I couldn’t say at first what it was. It weren’t the songs, it wasn’t the sermon, maybe it were the prayers. After a while it started to sink in I missed the Lord himself. We had been singing about the Lord, we had been praying to the Lord (well, the minister did on our behalf), the sermon had been about the Lord, but the Lord Himself was very far away. It’s like the difference between talking about someone because he isn’t there, and talking to someone, having a conversation. When I go to church, I want to have a conversation with my Lord, a face-to-face like interaction. You have that a little bit when praying, but I sensed a church service should be more than talking about someone. You should talk with someone. A sense of sadness came over me. I missed Jesus so much!

Suddenly I realised that this was the missing link: I missed Christ’s presence. So where could I be in Christ’s presence? There’s only one church I know of, that allows you to do exactly that: the Catholic Church. I was shocked. I really longed for Christ, I really wanted to receive Christ, but in order to be able to do so, I had to become a Catholic. There was no other way.

After I arrived back home my mind went over it over and over again to arrive at the same conclusion over and over again: I had to become a Catholic, there was no other way. I knew also that orthodox Catholicism would be very hard to find, especially in my neck of the woods. Therefore I told a Catholic priest I knew, of my desire to become a Catholic and I wanted to know if there was a parish near me which would be reasonably orthodox, since I had no desire to repeat the whole ordeal I had in the Protestant churches I’ve been to again. Fr. Roderick’s facial expression when I told him was priceless. I honestly never have seen someone looking so baffled before.

Before giving me the information I wanted, I had to write him an e-mail in which I explained how I arrived to my conclusions. He remarked that I was ‘awfully close to the meaning of the Eucharist in the Catholic Church’. I found that out myself too, so that’s why I wanted to become a Catholic. So he pointed out I should go to the parish in the local cathedral, since he knew the priest over there was seriously orthodox. Even more orthodox then he was. I didn’t knew that was possible, so I sent an email to the parish administration and waited for a reply. Two days later I received a phone call from Fr. Wagenaar in which we agreed that I should come over for a chat on Thursday, which was about four days later.

The first thing I thought when I saw Fr. Wagenaar was: “Oh God, an older man, I thought Fr. Roderick said this priest would be orthodox!” Most Dutch priest of a certain age (in their sixties) were ordained in the roaring sixties and seventies and a lot of them have a very particular interpretation on what ‘Catholic’ is. Usually as a rule of a thumb I avoid Masses said by priests in that age range. But since he had Fr. Roderick’s sign of approval I just went in and wanted to know what he had to say. I remember him asking about my prayer life and what kind of prayers I did. He was looking genuinely surprised when I mentioned I did all prayers of the Divine Office (hey, they are very Biblical, okay! ) and also the Rosary, which surprised him even more. When I mentioned I also make rosaries (all-twine knotted ones) I probably wasn’t really convincing as a Protestant anymore. We also discussed saints in the Catholic church and the Eucharist and concluded I already believed all of that. No discussion about that. Second meeting was a week later, on June 18 when Rome announced we had a new bishop. This made Fr. introduce Catholic hierarchy, to conclude I knew that already too. So I went through the fast-lane catechism lessons and was confirmed on August 10 last year. That’s how it went.

It’s a long story, but I haven’t talked about the other cool thing that happened barely a week and a half after my Confirmation in a convent near Salzburg in Austria. But that’s a story for another time.

So, why would a modern woman wear something as old-fashioned as a mantilla? It’s not required to wear one, it’s not a widespread custom, nobody asks me to wear it. And yet I wear one. People who know me as a modern woman, who really isn’t to be considered a ‘traditionalist’ at all, — in fact, I’m rather modern thinking— who is also a geek, behaves not very lady-like but more lad-like, are often quite puzzled why I make this choice. It doesn’t seem to fit in their picture.
I don’t wear a mantilla as a fashion item, I don’t wear it to make a statement, I don’t wear it to be more pious than the Pope in Rome, I don’t wear it as a result of peer pressure. I do wear it for the Lord, and that’s about the only thing that counts for me. I feel small and humble when I’m in the presence of Our Lord. I believe that Our Lord is truly present in the Eucharist. I believe He is truly present in the tabernacle when the priest puts the ciborium in it. The ciborium is covered with a veil to indicate it contains consecrated hosts. Sometimes I can literally feel Christ’s presence in the Church. It fills me with a sense of awe, and the only thing I can do is kneel down for Him and cover my head. It’s just my response to Christ being present. I don’t have that feeling in a Protestant church, which is not strange, since Christ is not truly present there, they don’t consecrate bread, so I never had the urge there to cover my head, apart from the fact that it was compulsory for women to do so in some churches, based on some obscure part of Scripture.

For me it’s important to give the Lord the reverence He deserves, especially when I am to receive Him during Holy Communion. It is not a small piece of bread that tastes like styrofoam, but it’s the Body of Christ, my saviour who died on the Cross because He loves me. When I present myself to receive Communion, the priest will say: “Body of Christ” (not: the Body of Christ). He not only means to say that what he holds is the Body of Christ, but that I, approaching, am also the Body of Christ. I will reply ‘Amen’ to that, confirming that I believe exactly that. After I receive, the Body of Christ being the bread and the Body of Christ being me will merge. The host melts in my mouth, I don’t have to swallow or chew it, it just melts and it’s taken up by my body. That moment and that feeling is the best thing there is. When I kneel in my pew, I am noticing what happens and I am aware what it means, my only reaction to that is awe. And I feel the urge to cover my head because of that.

It is like the stone tablets on which the Lord wrote the Ten Commandments with His finger. The Jews recognised that and put those in the Ark of the Covenant, which they covered with a piece of cloth, a veil. In the same fashion I will be touched by God himself when I receive Holy Communion, I am like a little ark. I think it’s appropriate to cover that as a sign that God is inside. The Church does that all the time: cover things that contain the Lord with a veil, so why wouldn’t I do the same?

Wearing a mantilla has nothing to do with rules and is not a legalistic kind of thing. It’s what I explained above: a way to live my faith, it’s my spirituality. It’s my relationship with Jesus. It has nothing to do with the desire to go back to the ‘good old times’, because I never witnessed those days and from what I heard about it, those weren’t ‘good’ old days. Things changed for a reason.

I don’t ‘have’ to wear one. I would love to be able to wear my mantilla all the time when I am in Christ’s presence. But I can’t. I have to take other peoples’ feelings in consideration too. If I notice that the mere fact I’m sitting in one of the pews wearing a mantilla distracts people from Christ, I take it off. The focus during Mass should be on Christ, not on me. It’s not good to wear a mantilla in a community where it draws unnecessary attention. Which means I only wear one during High Mass on Sundays in my own parish (St. Martin’s) and during English Mass (where there’s an international community which is less sensitive that the Dutch people who had to endure the whole crisis in the sixties). I also wear it during Adoration in my own parish and when I pray in my own church (the cathedral). I never wear it during Student Mass or in other parishes where people don’t know me and I don’t know the sensitivities over there. I try to be prudent and take other people’s feelings into consideration.

I notice most people who do wear a mantilla or a chapel veil are young women under the age of 40. Some of them indeed wear it because they feel drawn to the Traditionalist groups inside the Church, with a strong desire for a whole Mass in Latin with a prayer direction towards the liturgical east. They are also the most vocal about their views and less willing to take it off in a non-traditionalist setting. But other people wearing a mantilla don’t have any kind of affiliation with Traditionalism and may have their own reasons to wear it. It can be really hurtful to be condemned by ‘progressive’ and ‘liberal’ Catholics who see a mantilla and conclude right away you’re such a nasty Traditionalist. I would suggest to ask questions first at someone wearing a mantilla, before judging and downright attacking someone. Their faith may be more similar to yours than you ever would have dreamed of. On the other hand: if people state they wear a mantilla ‘because the Bible tells them to do so’ or ‘because it’s a good tradition’, I see no reason not to question that and even educate such people, because the Bible tells nobody to cover their heads with a head scarf and doing something out of a habit, because others do so as well is in my view never a really good reason to do something AND be very vocal about the fact others should too.

Sean, the Ductape Guy, asked me a while ago if I wanted to participate in his New Media Advent Calendar Project. It’s similar to the regular Advent Calendars you’ll see with the little doors with chocolate behind it, but he wanted ‘well-known people in Catholic New Media’ to do something every day leading up to Christmas to prepare for that Solemnity.

He caught me by surprise, because I consider myself in no way to be a ‘Catholic celebrity’ of any kind. Since I’m a geek who likes to tinker with anything computer related, I decided to give it a try and you can see the result of it when you click on the ‘read more’ link below

References:

• Dutch St. Nick’s songs on YouTube
• O Come, O Come, Immanuel
• Rorate Caeli lyrics in English and Latin

Photo by beruta

The other day I was discussing this very topic with some Catholics on an internet discussion board. My general impression when it concerns Catholics is that they are less rigid when it concerns this type of questions. I was surprised to learn that in certain Catholic circles people are spending a lot of time thinking about these things and also engage in lively discussions. The consensus over there was that a woman should cover her shoulders and preferably wear a skirt that is about two fingers over the knee long. Better would be a long skirt that reaches to the ankles. Head covering was preferred as well, the covering of choice would be a mantilla. The whole discussion was awfully similar to the whole fuss I witnessed in certain very rigid Protestant churches. The whole reasoning was Protestant as well in my eyes: one should cover her head, because it’s the custom in the early christian times, like Scripture tells us. The angle is a bit different but the message is the same: Do ‘X’, because Scripture says so.

After this discussion I noticed I was musing about the topic during Mass. I was wearing my usual outfit: trousers with a shirt and no head covering, because the only person wearing one considers herself ‘Traditional Catholic’. I am new here, and I don’t feel like being labeled of belonging to a certain ‘wing’ right from the start. It’s very hard to repair damage done to my image after the fact. I was wondering if you could consider it being ‘irreverent’ towards Christ to sit in the church during the consecration without head covering or dressed in casual clothing?

At home I thought a bit more about the topic. I was wondering why I always feel so uncomfortable and almost offended when people choose this angle in dress-code-like discussions, and why does it irk me extra when these kind of discussions are taking place in a Catholic environment? I spent quite some time sitting in very rigid Protestant churches where opinions where quite strong on this topic. Females should adhere to the rules out there period. There was no discussion about that, at least not when you’re orthodox. So is it a sign of wanting to show to other Catholics you’re orthodox by adapting a certain dress code? Is it a concealed form of the “I am holier than thou” thing? I almost start to believe that when I see people with those strong opinions on dress codes operate in a parish or on a discussion forum.

Was that it what really irked me? The “I am holier than thou” attitude? The thing I like about being Catholic is that the Church spends a lot of time stressing that it’s not about slavishly following rules. Catholicism isn’t a set of rules you need to follow in order to go to heaven! Some people try very hard to make it look like that. I realised that’s not what irked me really. Legalists are everywhere, even in the Catholic church and the best thing one can do to deal with them is ignoring them.

The real thing that irks me is the way I am treated. The attitude of “You are a woman, so you should dress like so and so” is very sexist in my eyes. And the worst thing is that the people being most passionate about it are women. My visceral reaction to that is to rebel, to do exactly the opposite of what they want me to do. I hate being approached as a member of a category, as an anonymous number. I am a person with a certain personality. My personality happens to be very masculine and dominant. I am not a feminist, I dislike feminism for the same reasons I dislike sexism. Just because I have an XX chromosome set, it doesn’t mean I behave in a certain stereotypical way. As a kid I climbed trees, built illegal camp fires and liked the SciFi series that were intended for boys. I never cared for girly things. I have the same visceral reaction when men start to treat me like the stereotypical woman instead of treating me as a unique individual. I get really annoyed and put no effort in hiding that. And some men are surprised to notice that I suddenly got very sarcastic.

When people see me sitting in a pew wearing a blouse, a long skirt and make-up, I will have chosen to do so out of free will, because nobody forced me to do so. I can also reassure people that day will never come. I may cover my head, but not because it’s something women should do, or because it’s in the Bible. The reason for that is that I think it’s ridiculous to do things because other people do it too or ‘because Scripture says so’. I’m not a lemming and I don’t have a talking Bible.

I’m sorry if this sounded like a rant, but I needed to vent!