Wednesday, March 2, 2011
A few years ago, I became friends with a man who was studying to be a deacon in the Anglican church. He called that the "Holy Catholic" church. He called us the "Roman Catholic" church. Unfortunately, he knew more about my church than I did. I never successfully argued with him. He could quote chapter and verse to defend himself. He could tell me about the Council of Nicea and other details of my religious DNA of which I knew little or nothing. He had particular disdain for my "brand" of religion and many of its practices. And I never could defend it. It pains me to say that.
I started my study at the Catholic Biblical School after having known him. He really showed me how little I knew. I wanted to not be so ignorant of my faith.
In these last four years, I have immersed myself in the Holy Bible and literature about it. I have learned much. And I have learned how little I know. I have barely scratched the surface. As I am in my 60th year, I pray I don't run out of time too soon. I feel that I am now where I should have been in early adulthood. But I am grateful to even be here because it is a long way from where I have been.
The relationship with the above referenced man also makes clear to me that God does indeed write straight with crooked lines. Here was a man who was cranky, argumentative, and cock-sure about everything that came forth from his mouth. His intentions toward me were less than pure. And yet, he truly motivated me to do something different.
I am so grateful that God sometimes has spoken to me in my own limited vernacular. It seems he has bestowed so much grace from some really puny attempts I have made. I hope to be able to improve my efforts, my motivation, and the purity of my heart. This is my heart's desire.