Francis Connects Us

It occurred to me, when I bought a nice blue glass vase a couple of weeks ago, that it could potentially last (if no one breaks it) for hundreds of years. I, on the other hand, won't last more than another 40 at the very most. Even some - maybe most - of my furniture will be around longer than I will!

Of course, I could go on a discourse here about our eternal soul. Spiritually speaking, we do actually outlast all created goods. But there is something particularly precious about humanity precisely because we are perishable (alliteration not intended).

I am learning to treasure people because they are fragile, and will one day leave us through death. Our possessions cannot make us laugh, rub us the wrong way, make us think harder, shape our character, or hold our hand. We fear the grief that human loss will bring, but I learned when my mother died that grief itself is an expression of love. Even after the death of a loved one we remain linked by the memories of our shared experiences and our hope for reunion in heaven. “Things” may bring us a fleeting sort of pleasure but they cannot satisfy our longing for connection.

Our global connections were in evidence last week as media from around the world converged on Rome to watch for white smoke and wait breathlessly to find out if any of them had predicted the next leader of the Catholic Church correctly. None of them had. (Gotta love the Holy Spirit!)

St. Francis, Canticle of the Sun

Now we have a “Papa” from Argentina, a humble man who took the name “Francis,” after Francis of Assisi, a saint who is loved by pretty much the whole world. 

The extreme, complete union of Saint Francis with Christ models for us the possibility of our making a stronger connection and commitment to our faith. His absolute love for people inspires us to connect with the poor and with our neighbors. His great love and appreciation for all of God’s creation reminds us to rejoice in and protect all that is good and beautiful and fragile in the world.

People from all walks of life love Saint Francis, and this connects us. Francis connects us to each other and creation in a way that is genuine and free and true. This is the kind of unity we long for. This is the great gift and hope of St. Francis – and Pope Francis – for the world.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks,

and serve him with great humility.

St. Francis

We Have a Pope!

Habemus Papam!

Pope Francis

Is this a good moment to try to explain even a tiny bit of why Bert and I found ourselves today in the company of millions of Catholics, watching the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, signed up for the “pope alarm” and eagerly awaiting news of the next pontiff? And here we are tonight, filled with joy and anticipation: joy for the Holy Spirit’s choice of a Holy Father, a “Papa” who identifies with our beloved Francis; anticipation for all the days to come of his pontificate and the grace that accompanies our awkward following of the head of the Church.

But does any of that even make sense to our evangelical Protestant friends and family? Fair warning: no offense is intended by what I am about to say, but offense may be caused nonetheless. And for that I can only ask your understanding and trust in our mutual love.

The journey from Protestant to Catholic for me was neither a straight trajectory nor a single path. Yet becoming Catholic – after becoming a Catholic – has been much more joyful and much less stressful than getting ourselves through the door. G.K. Chesterton said that the Catholic Church is much bigger on the inside than it looks from the outside. And I should add, a lot more diverse, confusing, exciting, messy, rewarding, and enriching, too. Room for everybody (of course, all those “everybodies” can get challenging at times).

So here we both are now, feeling more at home every day, and of course tremendously blessed and excited by Bert’s upcoming ordination. It gets harder and harder to remember what it was like not to be Catholic, to try to understand how we could have believed that Catholics were, if not Christians exactly, at least not very earnest Christians, at least not like us. Sitting in church tonight, the Church of St. Joseph, watching the young people put on a performance of the Stations of the Cross, and hearing the message of Jesus’ love, put the lie (again) to all those thoughtlessly anti-Catholic ideas.

If I was anti-Catholic (and I did not think I was, but I think differently now) it was just because of what I had been told, and what I never really questioned. I am sorry now for all the time I wasted not caring to find out the truth.

I am aware that to say that I was not told the truth sounds like an accusation. But those doing the telling were and are sincere. So while it is uncomfortable, I would be dishonest if I did not share the fact that what many conservative evangelical Protestants understand about the Catholic faith is misinformed. The only way to find out what the Catholic Church teaches is to listen to what she teaches, and NOT to what others say she teaches. Everyone who does this will be richer for it, even though not everyone will necessarily follow that trail all the way into the Church as we did.

A hundred different factors converged to bring us into the Church. This is one of them: when we started listening to what the Catholic Church (the Church that gave us the Bible) says in her own words, we started emerging from the fog of misperception and discovered a great treasure. We continue to be changed by this gift into the image of Christ. And we cannot help but thank God for that.