• Revival

    Sometimes I feel lost. Maybe that’s the way of the convert, at least at first—there is so much to discover, and you try your hand at all of it. You memorize all the prayers and read all the books. You don a prayer shawl and attend retreats; you sprinkle a few “God bless yous” on greeting cards to try it out. Some of it sticks, but most of it doesn’t. One of the first things I learned about Catholicism is there’s a lot. There are a lot of different beliefs, and a lot of different ways to experience them. As long as you stick to the dogmas—like, Jesus being God—you can cling to whatever method of worship you like. That’s what I respected, that there isn’t just one way to love God. No one’s lecturing you about what you must do.

    That also makes it difficult. I came from a place where everyone more or less did the same thing, but now there are options. Where do I fit in? Who are the people I most closely relate to? What kind of parish, prayer life, devotion, works for me? I have ideas: I like a more traditional Mass; I am drawn to contemplative prayer; I enjoy reading Scripture and commentary on it. I know what draws me closer to God, and I know what doesn’t work as well. I just haven’t yet found my place in the Church with it.

    As I’ve gotten older, my patience isn’t what it used to be. Maybe it’s because I know I won’t live forever, or I see my age steadily ticking toward the next decade. But I feel the need to figure out everything now. I’m here, I’m Catholic, and I know what works for me (more or less). So why do I still feel like I’m drifting? Why did six months go by without a blog update? Though I’ve found a home in the Church, I’m not settled. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I’ve been bouncing around different belief systems and, more obviously, parishes. I have moved a few times, so the latter was unavoidable. But even when I returned to what I saw as my “home” parish—the first one—everything had changed. Did I grow out of it, or did I just grow into myself? Was that simply my transitional home, helping me get acquainted with Catholicism? Maybe, but it’s hard to accept such a big change. Especially when being there was itself a big change from before.

    I need to settle into my faith. Even this blog’s purpose has shifted over the years. It used to be about discovery and the wonder of the Church, but became less personal after Confirmation. Of course that’s going to change, but I want to get back to that wonder. I always shy away from things too personal, because I’m not good at sharing myself. But I shouldn’t fear my thoughts and feelings. I’ve had a lot of ideas for blog posts over the past few weeks, but it felt a little like lapsing in prayer: once you forget one week, another week is no big deal. Then it becomes a month, then several months, and next thing you know, you don’t remember how to write or what you were going to say. So today I wrote about nothing in particular, and that’s a good place to start. Like sitting down after a prayer hiatus and just saying, “Hello, God, I’m here again.”

    Hello, everyone, I am here again.

    I don’t need well-researched updates or outlines. I just need to come here and talk. Talk about what I’m thinking, or what I experienced that week, or something neat I learned about the Church. I’m not here to teach anyone anything. I’m just here to share my experiences, and share how awesome God and the Church are. So let’s get back to it.


  • The Prophet Jonah

    The tale of Jonah is one of the first we learn in Sunday school as a kid. It’s a story of adventure. Jonah doesn’t listen to God, so he gets swallowed up by the whale. He was afraid, but that’s okay, because he repented and saved the people of Nineveh! We think of the Biblical prophets as keepers of the faith, brave people who proclaim the Word of God. But really… Jonah wasn’t any of that. He was kind of a crummy prophet.

    Nineveh was the capital of Assyria, land of the biggest enemies to Israel. It was a wicked city, serving false gods, set to destruction by the one true God. Jonah didn’t want this job. Who wants to preach to doomed people who will probably spit at and mock some foreign prophet? So Jonah runs away. We like his story, because we relate to this. We don’t want to do the strange and scary things God asks fo us, either. Like Jonah, we think we can run and hide from God.

    But Jonah had a responsibility. Being a prophet wasn’t some side gig; it was to be his life, his sacred duty. I don’t know how he came to be a prophet. Maybe his parents dedicated him to God; maybe God called him. Either way, he didn’t embrace it. It wasn’t until he spent a few days in a giant fish that he decided to listen. Despite all our images and paintings of this event, I doubt they were cozy accommodations. I don’t want to speak for Jonah, but I’d rather preach to my sworn enemies than hang out with whatever gunk is found in the belly of a sea creature.

    So it’s a happy ending: Jonah finally obeyed God, he prophesied to the people of Nineveh, and they repented! God didn’t destroy them. But we don’t learn the rest of the story in Sunday school. It’s not a happy ending, really. He did his job, but he hated these people. They were the wicked enemies of Israel! He knew God would forgive them if they repented, but Jonah didn’t want that. He wanted them to suffer for their wickedness, and he’d rather die than see them forgiven.

    Here’s where it hits too close to home. Here’s why Jesus tells us to “love our enemies:” because we don’t want to. We go out and preach the Gospel, but we preach to people we like. We tell the Good News to our friends, but don’t share it with people we disagree with. Or the friend we had a falling out with. Or strangers who look and act different than we do. We want to punish our enemies for being our enemies, and like Jonah, run away in hopes God will forget that He gave us a job. Jonah probably didn’t march the streets of Nineveh proudly prophesying. He was probably angry, only saying the words because God told him to, just like we promise to pray for those who annoy us and then don’t.

    After Nineveh’s repentance, Jonah leaves the first chance he gets. Though God has forgiven these people, Jonah hasn’t. He finds a comfortable spot outside the city, so comfortable that God provides a plant to offer him shade. It’s the only time Jonah is happy in this entire tale—sitting outside the city, in the shade, alone. But his happiness is short-lived, because God destroys the plant, and now Jonah is angry at the plant. He spends a lot of time angrily whining.

    And the LORD said, “You pity the plant, for which you did not labor, nor did you make it grow, which came into being in a night, and perished in a night. And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?” —Jonah 4:10–11

    That’s how Jonah’s story ends: in bitterness. But even the people of Nineveh, wicked though they were, are God’s people. He offered them a chance to repent, because they didn’t know any better. But Jonah doesn’t understand that. He wants to leave them in their misery, and later, Jonah himself just wants to be in misery, too.

    Isn’t this what we do? When something good happens to someone we don’t like, we cross our arms and refuse to be happy for them. Our responsibility isn’t unlike Jonah’s. It’s our duty as children of God to proclaim His name, even—maybe especially—to people we don’t like. Jonah seems like a whiny child, but so are we. God sometimes asks difficult things, but it’s easier to do it than run away. God going to find us, like He did Jonah, and we’re going to do it anyway. If Jonah had listened, the task still would’ve been difficult. He still wouldn’t have wanted to do it, but he made it worse by running. He probably sat pouting in that fish for three days before praying to God to just let him out, fine, he’ll do it. But the resentment had already settled in.

    I don’t know what happened to Jonah after God took away his comfortable shade, but I don’t imagine he changed much. Did he ever prophecy again? Did he ever do anything gladly? I don’t know. But I certainly don’t want to be like Jonah.


And they said to him, “Inquire of God, we pray thee, that we may know whether the journey on which we are setting out will succeed.”

And the priest said to them, “Go in peace. The journey on which you go is under the eye of the LORD.”

—Judges 18:5–6

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