A Journey to Love

"I just seems like there's so much more in the Catholic Church..."

These were my words to my boyfriend of the time when he asked me why I had started going to RCIA classes. I was a life-long confirmed Lutheran Christian, but I had a curiosity on my heart from various interactions with Catholicism growing up. At the time I said those words, they were just an intuition. I had little idea then how true they would turn out to be, or just how vast the Catholic universe would turn out to be.  Even in the years following my conversion and eventual reception into the Church, I still often felt like Harry Potter leaving the muggle world and entering that of the wizards. Time and again, I would stumble upon things Catholics seemed to take for granted, barely able to contain my own awe.

One of the first things that struck me during my conversion, and the inspiration for my words above, was the encompassing nature of the Catholic identity. For those who truly followed the Church teachings, Christianity was not just a part of who you are; it was the core of your identity. Being a Christian was not about adding things like prayer and Bible study into your life. Catholicism showed me that my entire identity springs forward from being a child of God. It was here that I first heard that we are all called to be saints. Saints! All of us! So much more was being asked of me in the Catholic Church, and I had a burning desire to explore it.

This was the lense through which I saw the moral teachings of the Church, which may explain why I fell in love so quickly with it. Fell in love...through the rules? Yes, and I will tell you why. Remember when I talked about my identity as God's child? As I learned the precepts of the Church, it became increasingly clear that the "rules" to follow were a map on the journey to true happiness. I love the moral teachings of the Church because they encompass my whole life. They show me, in every aspect of my life, where there may be pitfalls that might cause my to injure myself internally. And the teachings all fit together so seamlessly, that I can flourish with newfound freedom.

Freedom? How can you be free if you have to follow rules? It's true that without rules, you have more "freedom" in the sense that you have more options available to you. However, I'm talking about a deeper sense of freedom. A sense of freedom in being able to live the life I truly want to live. The moral teachings of the Catholic Church are the GPS of my life. It is much easier to navigate through life's choices when I have my GPS showing me which roads are closed, and leading me away from one-way streets. With the GPS on, I have the freedom of enjoying the journey more, because I have confidence that I am going down the right roads. Without this guidance, I am free to choose any road I wish. But getting to my destination? I may be free to choose the prettiest roads, but without any wisdom to distinguish between their truly value in getting to my destination, I am utterly lost.

Because of my journey through the teachings of the Church, I can say that I sincerely and whole-heartedly believe in the teachings the Church has to offer the world. I can enthusiastically describe how each one (particularly the more politically contentious teachings on human sexuality), have personally helped me flourish. I can also see how each is woven uniquely into its place within the tapestry of teachings on the human person. Sometimes, if we see just a single thread, it holds no appeal for us. Yet, when we stand further back, we are able to appreciate the beauty of the way they all come together. I am going to suggest to you that these threads are the teachings of the Church.
Many faithful Catholics struggle deeply with one or more of them, seeing it in isolation. How wonderful would it be if each Catholic, every other Christian, and eventually our culture, were to see the whole picture, and stand in awe at its beauty?

 If you have this vision, share it! If you are the one struggling, look into these issues for yourself. So many Catholics have found such peace once they really understood the Church's teachings. In the end, our faith is not about rules; it is about a person, a relationship with Jesus Christ. Which road do we take on the journey of building it? I've got a great map you can borrow...

The Price of Beauty

A few weeks ago, I was so honored as to be a bridesmaid in my uncle's wedding.  The entire occasion was splendid, save a single flaw.  Said flaw was best vocalized by my fellow bridesmaid when she uttered the pervading sentiment of the attending females:  "Whoever invented high heels should be shot."  While I acknowledge the possibility that this is a somewhat violent inclination, I think she made a valid point.

Although heels have historically practical purposes (used originally to prevent horse riders feet from slipping through the stirrups), they have evolved into exactly the opposite.  The term "walking shoes" illustrates just how impractical heels have become.  I find that term to be completely ironic - unless, of course, there's some purpose for shoes that I'm utterly unaware of.  In any case, I have to admire the skill of those who possess the ability to walk in heels.  From the girls who make it across campus in stilettos to the runway models who not only walk but convey such attitude while balancing at precarious height supported only by toothpicks, I am in awe.  I am also in awe of the angry scars on the otherwise delicate feet of my best friend after years of sporting such heels.  "Why do you wear those? " I ask her again and again.  She never truly answers; rhetorical questions aren't for answering. We both know she's sacrificed her feet on the altar of beauty.

Losing the Ability to be Lost

Six months have passed since my dad decided we would become an “iphone family.” Though I cringed internally at what I thought to be an ostentatious display of wealth, I accepted his gift with a smile, knowing the pride he takes in providing nice things for his family. Now I can single-handedly access my email, pay my bills, update my facebook status, and settle my roommates’ debate about whether Wednesday night will bring us a new episode of “Glee.” Tasks that would have previously been put off until I reached my Macbook can now be checked of my to-do list (carefully kept in my “notes” app) on the walk from St. Rob’s to U Hall. Yes, I can fill even that ten minute space with busyness. If a professor is late to class, I don’t have to make idle chit-chat. I can spend those ten courtesy minutes sharpening my aim with the single-bolt rifle on my deer-hunting game while we wait (unless he’s a full professor; then he gets fifteen minutes).

In fact, thanks to my iphone, I never have to talk to anyone in person again. If I pass someone I know on my way to class, I don’t have to waste time by stopping to ask how they are doing; a text message will suffice. If I’m lucky, I’ll be so absorbed in typing it that I will miss the next few friends I pass. They’ll understand - it is an iphone, after all.

Yes, thanks to my iphone, the need to spend time with other has been drastically reduced. I can spend more time doing things that are really important. I don’t even have to spend time with myself. Gone is the time I’d to occupy my thoughts finding my passions or pondering the meaning of life. I have instant access to a store with over 30,000 apps to distract me!

Thanks to Apple’s precise engineering, I can feel my phone vibrate in class at just the right frequency so as not to alert my professor. Little does she know that my look of concentration is not directed toward her wise words, but rather is a direct result of me racking my brain to figure out who has contacted me as I count down the seconds until class is adjourned and the mystery is solved.

My iPhone has become somewhat of an addiction. The answer to any question I have is at the tips of my fingers. The mouth of my curiosity has no time to water; I gorge my self on Wikipedia before the question is fully formed in my mind. Instant information gratification.

There’s no doubt that this convenience is a useful gift of the age in which we live. Yet I can’t help feeling as though I’ve lost something. What is it? Awareness? Likely. Human connection? To a certain extent. Mostly, I think it’s the ability to be lost - in a way that can’t be fixed by typing an address into Google maps. No longer am I lost in thought. A mind constantly occupied has no room to wander. No longer am I overwhelmed by questions, lost in a search for answers. And I’m certainly not lost to anyone who knows the sequence of those ten digits. I am constantly available to anyone with the whim to use them.

Vacation from my phone is an strangely telling experience. In its absence, I first feel odd, panicky, disconnected. It’s not until after I adjust that I notice the freedom. It’s an ironic feeling, considering that all I am supposedly missing is convenience. The striking absence of the weight I used to carry, however, indicates how quickly my technological assistance has become a ball and chain. Without it, I notice a lightness. I notice the smell of the flowers as I cross the bridge to U Hall. I feel the way the sun hits my back on a walk by the Bluff. I also notice a brave solitary squirrel triumph over a pack of rabid raccoons and scamper off to celebrate his victory. I glance around in amazement to see if anyone else has noticed one of history’s greatest wins for the underdog (no doubt just behind David beating Goliath and the Rod Sox winning the 2004 World Series). Alas, they have not; their attention goes only as far as the distance from their fingertips to their phones.

- My first opinion piece, published in the Los Angeles Loyolan, 2008.