It may be different now, but the chapel of the Newman Center at GWU when I was a student was in pretty rough shape. The floor creaked, the AC/heat was unreliable at best, and it had the general run-down, jerry-rigged feel of the room that was built over a retro-fitted garage in an old campus townhouse that urgently needed renovation. Its general decorative theme skewed heavily to 1970s “youth ministry,” with tacky multi-colored stained glass panels covering the windows behind the altar. They had Gospel quotations on them, only one of which I remember:
“I have come that you may live more abundantly.”[1]
The first time I visited the chapel, I remember looking at that verse and thinking, “That’s what I want.” When I began coming to the Newman Center as a sophomore in college, I was pretty unsure of my faith. I’d been baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, but faith was never an active part of my life. I didn’t know about the Real Presence, I thought most of the moral teachings couldn’t possibly be applied in modern life, and I didn’t want to be seen as one of those religious people. But I was inexplicably drawn to Catholicism—enough to cagily sneak over to the Newman Center’s free Tuesday night dinners without telling my friends where I was going, to sit for a few minutes in the chapel praying that no one would recognize me, and to tell myself that I was just there for the social events, not for any of that God stuff, which I was of course only doing out of politeness before nipping into the pantry for a snack.
It’s been my experience that God lets us lie to ourselves to the point of absurdity, so that we finally give up and realize that being honest is so much easier. The truth is, I was falling in love with the faith. I started attending Sunday mass. I read every Catholic book I could get my hands on. I discovered the Catholic blogosphere and realized I wasn’t the only young adult person out there looking for serious answers to theological questions. I began to feel that it was possible that Catholicism wasn’t just a system of rules and regulations for the uncritical and the poorly educated but an invitation to know God himself! And I discovered this primarily through friendships with other young Catholics (especially Mary Walker, now my lovely editor at T&C)—friends who helped me realize that be Catholic is really to know and love the Risen Christ, and to share that with other people.
But for a long time, I was convinced that an intellectual, emotional, social engagement with the faith didn’t necessarily involve any major changes to my day-to-day behavior or world view. I didn’t see how it was possible to reorder relationships, ambitions, and priorities around a deposit of moral teachings that I had always thought stood only for oppression of women, monarchism, and disdain for property. I didn’t want to admit that, as in any real relationship, loving Christ would entail sacrifices on my part.
God is patient. Through the witness of amazing friends, a lot of prayer, and some holy priests, I came to realize that you can’t encounter the Cross without being changed by it. I began to investigate the things I disagreed with, and point by point, I started to see that my objections to this teaching or that simply didn’t hold up, if I was really honest with myself. And finally, I had a profound moment sitting in church when I stared at the tabernacle and thought “Ok fine, you’re worn me down. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” I decided there were no longer any rules that didn’t apply to me. I made some radical changes. I said no to some things and yes to far greater things. The more faith I put in God’s judgment rather than my own, the more courageous I became about making sacrifices. Through the Holy Spirit, I powerfully experienced that obedience to the truth is the purest form of freedom. I took a risk and I continue to get back a million times what I put in.
As a new blogger for T&C, I see it as my mission to help others, especially those on the fence about living out the faith, to see that taking the plunge for Christ is life-affirming and liberating. I want to pass on some of the great information I’ve received that’s helped me understand what the deal is with challenging moral teachings, why we Catholics do this thing or that, and how the faith relates to my life as a twenty-first century unmarried woman in a big city. I also look forward to learning from other contributors and comment writers and continuing to grow in my faith. Catholicism for me has always been about relationships, and I hope to be a friend and companion as we who read and write at Truth & Charity strive to live more abundantly.
[1] Either I’m remembering it wrong, or maybe in the interest of window space this version was easier to fit than the usual “I have come that they may have life, and have it in abundance” (Jn 10:10)