My Spiritual Autobiography - Part IV

The young adults group I had joined began to factor more and more into the equation. At these meetings, I ran into people who were having experiences similar to mine. My life seems to be a progression of waking up to the world outside of myself - it never occurred to me that there might be people my age who were where I was at. I remember in particular a conversation I had with a guy my age who "went off" on all the things he was learning and the changes he was trying to make in his life and when he was done I was just quiet. He had said everything I wanted to say.

Book studies were the primary format for the young adults group in the beginning. One book that stands out in my mind was called "A Plea for Purity". I used to pride myself on the wide range of books I had read and how it took a fair amount to impress me. But this book was radical in a way I wasn't used to. It had phrases in it like "the chastity of Christ" and "receive your sexuality as a gift from God". Reading it was something like the experience of driving on a brand new road through an area you are already familiar with. All the same points of interest are there, but you are seeing them from a totally different angle. The book brought home to me a point that I still hold today - namely that sexuality is essentially religious and the sexual act is a religious act. I remember making a remark that if chastity is so important, I might never go to the beach again. There was nervous laughter in the room when I said this, followed by silence.

At about this same time, a particular priest entered my life who did (and still does) hold a special place in my heart. I'll call him Fr. Joseph. As with many great beginnings, there was no fanfare. He simply shook my hand and introduced himself as he and I were in the sacristy before mass (in my zeal to be involved in anything Catholic at the time, I had volunteered to be an Acolyte - basically an adult version of an altar server). What struck me about Fr. Joseph wasn't what he was saying, or his personal charisma or his singing voice. What struck me, in the very first mass I served with him, was his body language. The teaching of the Catholic Church has always been and will always be that the Eucharist IS the body, blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ, "Truly Present", just as much as He ever was on this earth. This was something I had known implicitly from my earliest days. But when Fr. Joseph said mass something was different; his whole demeanor changed. I watched him like a hawk. This was a guy who really saw Jesus Christ in that consecrated bread and wine and for whom that reality was the central motivator of his life. As I stood right there watching him do what Catholic priests have done for 2000 years, I had an experience that was something like how I felt years later at the birth of my first child. My mental focus was drawn to a pinpoint as a huge reality sank into my heart and mind. I was blown away.

My spiritual journey greatly accelerated in the months that followed. I was interested in any and all things pertaining to Christ. My exposure to information was so rapid that I could call this period an "illuminative" phase, but for the fact that the primary aspect was still purgation from vices. Knowledge didn't set me free from these things, grace did.

The Year 2000 was a watershed in my life. Fr. Joseph had organized a young adults pilgrimage to "The Holy Land" (Israel) and many of my new friends from the group were planning on going. They invited me. It was fairly expensive and something rather outside of my comfort zone. But they pressed me. As fate (or providence?) would have it, in the days of the ".com" economic boom, my stocks had (temporarily) doubled in value. In the absence a financial obstacle, I opted not to let comfort hold me back. I cashed out and signed on.

The trip to Israel was surreal. I floated in a boat on the sea of Galilee, sat in Capernam, climbed to the top of Mount Tabor. I remember riding in the tour bus and seeing a road sign with three arrows pointing in three different directions - Nazareth, Bethlehem and Meggido. Where else can you see stuff like this? The trip to Israel was a closing out of the purgative phase of my life. There are too many details to mention them all, but I'll share two. The first occurred at the "Knights Palace" in Jerusalem - a history-laden structure built at the time of the crusades and now serving as a hotel for pilgrims. In the course of our travels, many on the pilgrimage group were greatly affected by the things they were seeing, some visibly so. Fr. Joseph was faithful in offering privately the sacrament of reconciliation at the end of each day for anyone who needed to get things off of their chest. One night it was my turn. Now, confession is typically a time-constrained sacrament. There are people waiting behind you in line. But, this was different. I made a general confession of everything I could possibly remember. I took my time. There were things that I had remembered between other confessions and simply forgot to mention when I went. I got them all off of my chest. I articulated things from my past that were almost painful to say. Fr. Joseph listened faithfully for a long time and then said the words of absolution: "By virtue of the authority vested in me by the Church, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit". We sat there quietly. It was late. There were no more sins to confess. Before I left I said "I don't know what God wants for me, but I know I'm here to serve the Lord." Fr. Joseph nodded. The chains of vice were broken.

It was shortly thereafter that I had the opportunity to assist at a mass at the site of Calvary, as in THE PLACE where Jesus was actually crucified. The church at the site is a Greek Orthodox Church, 1000 years old (literally), and extremely ornate, even by Catholic standards. Being in that building established in my mind a historical continuity with Christians through the centuries. Christ's church has been fighting faithfully for thousands of years. When Fr. Joseph started the mass in that chapel, people we weren't even associated with flocked in to be part - there were Mother-Theresa-look-alike nuns, monks with long beards, local Arab Christians. None of them could speak English but they all knew what was going on. I saw in their faces something I had never seen before: the faith for them was a given, there was not question. And they had all paid a price, in the course of their lives, for their faith in Jesus Christ. I recognized, in stark contrast, that my faith, to this point, had cost me nothing. The thought entered my heart - you've been part of the problem for long enough, it's time to be part of the solution.