Being a Catholic in 2020

I am a Catholic.  This has been a part of my identity all my life.  I was born into a faith-filled family of practicing Catholics and, except for a few years when I was in my teens/early twenties, I have been a practicing Catholic all my life.

At one time this was a less controversial statement than it is now.  Over the past number of years, I feel like it has become a statement that requires defending.  First there were all of the horrible sexual abuse scandals and now there are the right-wing extremists who try to push their agenda on others.  In my opinion, both are a function of flawed human behaviour and the impact of too much power, rather than a reflection of what Jesus wanted for us.

I think Jesus’ message was very simple – He told us to love God and to love each other.  He told us to take care of those around us who require our help.  He didn’t ask us to judge each other – in fact, He was pretty specific about the fact that God will do that.  He told us that God loves us with a love that we can’t even imagine; that it’s way bigger than the love a parent has for a child, and that his mercy is endless.  This is the Catholic Church that I belong to and this is the God I put my faith in.  

Let me be clear that I don’t think I have all the answers, nor do I believe that Catholicism is the only “route to heaven”.  Quite the opposite, I believe that when we are judged by God, He will look at what we have done for others, rather than if or when or what church we worshipped in.

I have had some really amazing examples of faith-filled people through my life.  I think of my grandma who was such a happy person that I always felt love in her presence.  She was very ill around Christmas time when I was in first year university.  She did not want to die before Christmas and ruin the holiday for her family, but once Christmas was over, she was ready to go.  Everytime she woke up, she would look around and say, “Am I still here?  I’m ready to go now, God!”  When she passed away on New Year’s Day, I am sure that she went peacefully to the Heaven that she believed in so fervently.

Then there was my sister.  She spent about 5 weeks in the hospital before she died.  I was living in Timmins at the time – about an 8-hour drive from Kitchener, and Gilles was working during the week in North Bay, which was the halfway point.  Each Friday while she was in the hospital, I would get in the car and pick Gilles up in North Bay, then we would spend the weekend in Kitchener and head back north on Sunday.  

Each week, I witnessed her getting a little more frail.  When my dad called me midweek and asked me to come, I knew the end was near.  The night before she died, my brother Dave and I sat up with her.  She would go in and out of consciousness, and when she was awake, she was struggling to breath, hard to understand since her mouth was so dry from gasping for breath, and sometimes hallucinating due to the pain medication she was on.  

She died the following afternoon in my mom’s arms, with my dad, Dave and I around the bed.  Just before she died, she went from gasping for breath to looking up at my mom with a very peaceful expression on her face; she just lit up and smiled, then she died.  It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever experienced and it left me with 2 gifts – the first is a deeper bond with my brother and the second is a deep faith that there is something wonderful waiting for us on the other side.  I don’t know what she saw, but I know it was something that filled her with peace and joy.

Following her death, as I came to grips with the fact that my baby sister was gone, I found the rituals to be very comforting.  I was grateful for the visitation because it allowed me time to share stories and memories with other people who loved her. 

 When the casket was closed, I remember feeling like my heart was breaking; like I had never been sad before in my life. But then I remember the ritual of the funeral mass offering me comfort when I needed it the most.  The ritual of the mass has actually played a role in many of the big events in my life – weddings, funerals, baptisms, graduations, etc.

Over the years since I became a Catholic School Board Trustee, I have given numerous speeches, and many have included this quote from Saint Mother Theresa, who described herself as “a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world”.  I believe this is the message of Jesus.

So, I am a Catholic.  The church that I belong to encourages me to help God with His love letter by trying to be His pencil, and to have faith in His mercy those many, many days when I fall short.  I am part of a community that feels the same way, and it is really a beautiful and comforting community to be a part of.