Are You Catholic?
We’re seated around the dinner table after Adoration and Vespers when Sr. Scholastica asks me in her warm Caribbean lilt, “Are you Catholic?”
The three nuns welcomed me into their home without knowing very much about me. Their Benedictine ministry of hospitality bids them to treat every guest as if they were Jesus. And as comfortable as I am with women religious, I find myself feeling self-conscious and conflicted about how much of my truth Sr. Scholastica, Sr. Maria Regina, and Mother Gertrude can handle. Their curious gazes are trained on me as I consider how to answer this question - am I Catholic?
In the next instant, I answer in the affirmative to put them at ease. After all, we’ve just met and I will be spending the next two days and nights in their home, praying alongside them. Further, it is true - I am Catholic. The only sacraments missing from my c/v are Holy Matrimony, Last Rites, and Holy Orders. Although, I am a Benedictine oblate, which comes close to fulfilling the latter. My lineage, both indigenous American and European, is also deeply Catholic.
Still, I am haunted by the incompleteness of my responses to questions such as this one. Questions that ask me to distill my essence into palatable one-word or one-sentence answers. I vacillate between the despair and frustration of being misunderstood and obfuscating my whole self ~
~and the utter delight of shape-shifting, the pleasure and playfulness that comes from knowing that I most certainly will be misunderstood. The fact that there are virgin layers of me, which I can choose to unveil or keep hidden within my wild depths.
I am learning to take these questions, born out of well-meaning small talk and expediency, and allowing them to live in me. I give clumsy, easy answers to move conversations forward. But afterward, I invite the questions to remain in me, guiding my self-inquiry so that I might gain deeper insights into my own truth and Truth itself.
This particular question - are you Catholic? - also prompted me to consider which aspects of Catholicism I value enough to instill in my own children, if and when I should have any. As per usual, I find myself dwelling on the ritual elements that have been woven into the fabric of my life. In imagining what I’d like to curate into my household, this is the list that I came up with:
Starting the day by greeting the Sun with the Canticle from Daniel - a song of praise for all Creation.
An expression of gratitude before meals - for all of the plants, animals, human hands, and elements that sustain us.
Entreating ourselves to Mary and the saints before every journey. Touching a hand to Mary’s heart on our way out the door and saying the simple prayer “San Rafael, llevanos con bien, traenos con bien” as we pull out of the driveway.
Singing Salve Regina to the Moon before bedtime. This is the last prayer of the day in the Divine Office. It is always my favorite part of praying with a monastic community. We turn to Mary in the dark of Compline and we sing her praises before heading to bed in silence.
Angel de la Guarda/Guardian Angel prayer to tuck in the little ones. My parents prayed this with me every night as they tucked me into bed and it made me feel comforted and protected.
Lastly, my mother will teach my child/ren how to pray the rosary, just like my maternal grandmother taught me when I was five years old.
These rituals are not important to me because of any particular alignment with Christian theology or Church dogma. Rather, they are rooted in my understanding of the role that ritual has played in my life. It connects me to my lineage, while also allowing me to understand and empathize with other faith communities. Ritual comforts me and equips me with language and choreography that readily express my relationship to the divine.
I share this with you as an invitation to consider ritual as more than something you do on a wellness retreat or with your skincare. What are the rituals that have shaped you? And which of these, if any, do you value enough to instill in your children?
Lastly, what would happen if you let binary, reductionist questions like “are you Catholic” live within you? Which complex truths and realizations will emerge?
Let the questions simmer, low and slow.
Sending love,
Sara