I remember a young man, riding along in the truck with his father, and asking about the priesthood. I remember the dad telling his son about how hard a job that would be...because a priest wasn't allowed to take a wife. A priest had to devote his all to God, and to his community. And despite how lonely that young man imagined the life of a priest to be, the thought about becoming one didn't leave him. The call of God was in him.
Was in me.
Even after the "joys" of CCD was that call within me. You see, my experience at Catechism wasn't a joyous one, as learning about the Catholic Faith really should be. For a younger me, naive and sensitive, it was quite honestly a very scary placer. Certainly I remember joyful moments, and sparks of the faith I was being taught about. However, I more remember one particularly severe teacher, who I recall as a elderly Irish Catholic. His lessons never seemed to be about joy...the all seemed to be about Hell. About how if you didn't strive for perfection, you would most certainly burn for your lacking. That, while there was the wonder of Grace, it was not for imperfect you, and that was only through the Goodness of God that received this wondrous gift of which you would never be worthy. That the best you could hope for was a long, long time in Purgatory, as you were cleansed of your inevitable imperfections.
Well, my young teenage self didn't see the value in a faith that treated its adherents that way. So, after First Communion, when the option to back away from such a faith appeared (along with the option to sleep in on my Sunday mornings), I did not think twice.
But while I found a few extra hours of sleep that I've enjoyed over the years, I did not find the end of my search.
In fact, it was beginning of a rather grand exploration of who I am, and what I believe. I spent many years on that quest. During that journey, I tried many different roles.
I tried the role of the Wiccan priest, more specifically of Stregheria.
I tried the role of a Unitarian minister, thanks to the kind folk at the Universal Life Church (a role I still technically enjoy, even though I only exercise the rights of that role on the special occasions of non-Catholic family weddings).
I tried the role of the Pantheist, a beautiful story which I still find bits of Truth in, despite its lack of solid spiritual understanding beyond what can be measured by science.
I even tried the role of Atheist, a world view that I personally found bleak and discomforting (though some of my dearest friends are Atheists, and I would never begrudge them that).
None of these roles seemed to fit me properly. Certainly, many of them gave me comfort. And all of them provided important opportunities for growth. But none of them seemed to fit right. The all seemed to lack what I needed. Upon reflection, all of them were a search for God...but none of them quite found Him.
I'm proud to say that I never once stopped looking. And despite my wandering, even as an Atheist, I found myself speaking to Him constantly. Looking for the Truth. Little did I realize that in looking for the Truth, I had been running away from it. And the entire time I ran, It was right behind me, calling me back to where I was supposed to be.
There were hints throughout my life. There was my love of churches, especially the grand Catholic cathedrals. There was the feeling I got every time I smelled the smoke of frankincense and myrrh in the air. There was the way that, while the words to every invocation I made of the various gods and goddesses of my spiritual explorations require effort to recall, the words of the Our Father and the Hail Mary come with swift assurance. There was that feeling that, having never been Confirmed as a Catholic, I wasn't quite complete in the journey of my faith.
And of course, there was the constant fact that I could never not play a Cleric without a tremendous amount of effort.
I came to understand that all this playing at being a Cleric, both in gaming and in my spiritual journey, was the quiet realization that I was being called back to God. That the "Hound of Heaven" was seeking me out, and no matter where I traveled, He was close behind.
Of course, while I was searching for God, I didn't have to search hard for my vocation - despite the call in my soul to somehow become a priest, I chose the vocation of marriage. Or rather, it chose me - although I had only been in two long term relationships, once I found my beautiful wife Cassandra, my daughter Braelyn and my son Caleb were not far behind. I started the work of building the bonds of my family, and of raising my children.
Which is funny...because it was my children that led me to my Catholic epiphany. After all, it was they who, on a chilly Sunday morning in late January, brought me back into a Catholic church for their Baptism. And while that day was for them, it was also a special day for me.
It was the day I looked around that church, took a deep breath, and realized...that I had come home. Of course, I didn't know then that my journey had only begun. That my quest for God, and that my quest of become a Cleric, had only completed the first act. But it was enough in that moment.
It was enough for get me to start Act Two.
No comments:
Post a Comment