By Paula Graham
Special to the Catholic Herald
Lenten reflection: My entry into the church
Editor's note: As a Lenten feature, correspondent Paula Graham was asked to reflect on her first year as a member of the Catholic faith. Graham received the Sacraments of Initiation last Easter Vigil in Ladysmith. I've been official for nearly a year, but I'm still afraid to sit in the front row at Mass. I don't always know when to kneel, when to stand and when to sit. I've got the holy water routine down and know when during the liturgical year the font will be empty. Among the regulars who sit near me at St. Mary Church in Hawkins, I know who will join hands during the Our Father and who won't. I've got the Creed and the Confiteor word perfect, but the songs are still so new that I can't sing past the first verse when I carry the Lectionary. I'm still confused about confession, even though I've tried it twice. I worry about wasting Fr. John's time.Easter Vigil 2001 marks the one year anniversary of my entry into the Catholic Church. Last April, Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Ladysmith hosted the Easter Vigil for its cluster parish churches, including St. Mary. At the Rite of Initiation I sat in reserved seating with my fellow RCIA classmates and our families. The beauty of the decorations -- all natural elements, including a stone fountain baptismal font-- highlighted the blessedness of the event.
I silently thanked God and the spirit guides who had brought me to this moment as I squeezed the hand of my sponsor, Sr. Mary Arlene Hendricks. Then I made my profession of faith, my first Eucharist and confirmation. After a year of RCIA classes and the intensity of the Triduum, I planned to relax and to enjoy being a Catholic.
Soon the honeymoon stage whirred into high gear. Cards of welcome. Gifts. Phone calls. An outpouring of congratulations following a story Sam Lucero had written about my faith journey for the Catholic Herald. Readers across our 16-county diocese shared my joy. I even received comments from strangers at the grocery store. One woman told me the story made her proud to be a Catholic.
Then came the reality check. My parish welcomed me with a gift of its own, a packet of envelopes for weekly offerings, monthly gifts to the improvement fund and special mission appeals. St. Mary's Altar Society assigned me to funeral-dinner duty for Jan., April, July and October and to church- cleaning detail. The parish women invited me to their monthly meeting and the president asked if I would become a lector.
RCIA was definitely over. Gone were the biweekly faith sharing sessions and classes about church history, its traditions, rituals, and liturgy. Sr. Jovita Winkel had presented a compelling curriculum and had provided us a safe, nurturing environment. Well-prepared, our group swam off to wider seas.
Practicing one's faith in a parish is where the real learning-- and mistakes-- occur. I've made many bloopers at St. Mary, dipping for holy water that wasn't there, for example, but one incident still makes me blush. Deacon Richard Leonard declared, "This Mass is ended. Go in peace and serve the Lord." So, I filed my Missalette, gathered up my pocketbook and jacket, turned around and began chatting with a couple behind me. Loudly. At first I didn't understand their nonverbal messages, the pained looks on their faces. Oops. Church wasn't over. There was still another song to sing and the procession. The couple teased me, nicely, after Mass had really ended.
Looking back, I've had much to celebrate this Jubilee year, my first year as a full-fledged Catholic: connection to a vibrant faith community; a new granddaughter, Jane Carla, born Dec. 22; and wonderful conversations about God with my grandson Jacob, 3. On a recent visit to Kansas City to greet Jane, Jacob held my hand as we walked from Holy Spirit Church. In the middle of the parking lot, Jacob, who was watching the cars drive away, glanced back at the church. "What's God doing now?" he asked.
It's been a year of challenges, too. I didn't consider cancer, cancer scares and other health concerns Jubilee material. Not me. Not at first. In May my husband and I had skin cancers surgically removed. In August, I underwent a breast biopsy. Benign. In September, my husband began experiencing numbness down the right side of his body. He has lost fine motor control in his right hand. Our journey through the medical maze, which began shortly after the Easter Vigil, continues. Now Bob faces delicate surgery to alleviate pressure on his spinal column at the neck.
"You will never regret it," said my sponsor about my decision to join the church. I've felt tested this year and have wondered whether it was coincidence-- joining the church and facing dramatic health issues. But as we await Bob's surgery, I value the support, concern and prayers of faith community. We are not going through these challenges alone. Cards. Phone calls. Offers of help. The Easter Vigil glow continues.
While Jacob and I we were lying on his bed, after stories, after lights out, he said, "Nana, do you talk to God?"
"Yes," I said.
"What does God say to you?" Jacob wrapped his arm around my neck, eager for my answer.
"God says, 'Paula, I love you.'"
Jacob giggled. "Paula? Is that your other name?" After a short detour into a talk about names, which could have been his delay tactic to postpone bedtime, I asked him a question.
"Jacob, do you talk to God?"
"I listen," he said.
"And what does God say to you?"
He didn't hesitate. "God tells me to sit down."
Before I could question him, his mother appeared in the doorway and firmly insisted it was time for bed. Maybe, Jacob was referring to church. Lucky boy. With his hot line to God, at least he won't be confused about when to kneel, when to stand and when to sit down.
© Superior Catholic Herald, 2001