hyperdulia again Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 (edited) [untitled skeleton of me talking abbout my favorite subject, me] My relationship with the Catholic Church, ‘tis a fiery thing. I believe and accept everything that She teaches. I embrace Her Truth when my intellect and my natural eyes cannot reveal it to me, I embrace it when it hurts and chaffs and leaves a knotted place in the pit of my stomach, I see with the eyes of faith, grasping the walls of Catholic Truth with only a little torch as my guide; trusting that as long as I stay within the confines of the walls of this ancient citadel that stood against the onslaught of Paganism, the early heresies (Nestorianism, Gnosticism, Monophosytism, etc.), and the Protestant Reformation I will spend eternity with God. Well, I do this about most things, but there is a teaching that my mind, my heart, my body, and even my soul rebels against. “What teaching,” you ask. That would be just about every line ever written by an orthodox moral theologian on homosexuality. There is an almost unbearable ache to granting my assent to these hard sayings—something that goes beyond the pain of not being able to make love to the person I will spend my life with. I feel like this teaching of the Church is a betrayal of Christ. I don’t see in Scripture what seems plain to others. I don’t see in Sacred Tradition what seems plain to others, so I bristle. I “leave the Church” (funny phrase, because I’m sure some of you are saying right now you can’t leave an institution you don’t belong to), or more properly I attend Mass and abstain from the Sacraments. But still there is no peace, Christ is on the Altar, but I can’t receive Him (my Soul is dirtied by lots of Mortal Sin at this point)—the Church is the Mistress of the Sacraments, the Mother of my Soul, I really do believe Her on matters of faith, so I can’t bring myself to receive what She says I can’t receive. There is Grace available in the Confessional and a door that leads straight to the Eucharist, but I can’t confess, if I accuse myself of what I don’t believe is a sin: 1) I tell a lie. 2) I commit Sacrilege. 3) My soul is even dirtier than it was to start with. The pain of seperation from Christ on the Altar gets to be too much to bear. I decide that if the Church is right about everything else then She has to be right about this. I confess. Before long I am back to where I have been since I was at least twelve, believing that the Church infallible and at the same time that She is terribly wrong on this. I give Her the benefit of the doubt. I bite my tongue and give her the assent of my body to this teaching, but it hurts. Not just the absence of sex hurts, but the feeling of never being certain of anything. The horror of having to actually bottle up something that I believe with the whole of my heart and to deny it feels like denying Christ, it’s denying truth as I understand it, but even if I am disobedient here, even if I decide to not bite my tongue, to not give Her the assent of my body on this teaching, I’m left with this drowning feeling as I try to imagine my life without Christ as revealed to His Church. So here I have these two mutually exclusive ideas (the Church is infallible, the Church is wrong) that as far as my self-knowledge, my ability to look into myself and figure out where ideas come from, can tell have come from God, they are both buried deep down inside, in the place where I believe in the Real Presence, the place where I believe the Blessed Mother is my mother, the place where I believe Christ died and rose. I can’t begin to describe the feeling of holding deep down inside of you, in your core, two opinions that are blatantly contradictory, it is living in a state of constant warfare and if ever you let one of them rule, the pain of denying the other is so great that you can physically feel it. The pain starts out as a simple nagging feeling, a sense of unsettledness, or disquiet, if you will, then it becomes violent cries “liar,” “betrayal,” “Judas,” and “heretic.” Then, the two ideas start slamming into one another, each trying to wear the other down, but neither of them gets weakened or destroyed by the fight, they get stronger, the conviction that both are absolutely and undeniably correct assertions grows stronger. These warring ideas leap out of one’s body, out of one’s soul, they bang the poor mad little creature who believes them both about the head and demand the exile of the other idea. You fall to your knees and ask Sweet Jesus to come, into your living room, your bedroom, wherever this ghastly little scene is playing out. He comes, the Lord comes to you, He doesn’t speak on the matter at hand; He quiets the warring ideas with terrifying rebuke and wraps his arms around you. He says, “I love you.” He says “You are mine.” You push Him away. You push Him away, because as best you can tell he whispered both of these warring ideas into your ear when you were a very little child. He gave you both of them; and you think even if He didn’t give you both of them, He’s still to blame for not taking the one that’s not from Him away. He left it to rot and fester inside of you, to make demands on your conscience, to disturb your sleep, to occupy your thought-life by it’s constant assault on the other idea. You cry and you beg Him for clarity, something that comes directly from Him accepting the one and condemning the other. He walks over to you. He dries your tears and He says “I love you,” again. You surrender, you let yourself feel the consolation of His Presence, the Strength of His Arms, and the persistence of His Wooing. You are left with no answer to the problem of your warring ideas. Only the firm conviction that the same God who hung on a cross for you, the same God who lays down on altar for you everyday, the same God who showers you with mercy when you repent of your sins, will be there when you die, saying in His gentle way “I love you.” Then you realize that the business of your life is not to figure out the warring ideas (not that they aren’t important), but nothing in life really matters except that moment when these treacherous little bodies of ours die and we leave this cruel, fallen, place, our muddled senses, and our contradictory ideas behind us and we are before Jesus and He says “I love you.” In that moment we can either push Him away because He’s not following the script we have written for Him and He’s not answering the questions we want answered or we can throw our arms around Him and say, “You are the greatest hunger of my soul. I want you. I don’t want to be anywhere other than your arms for the rest of eternity.” Edited February 12, 2004 by hyperdulia again Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
stargirl3:16 Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 wow... thats deep hyperdulia. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Richard Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 Hyper, that's a very deep piece, you are a brilliant writer! Abstinence makes the spirit stronger (I know it doesn't seem like it) but is a hard, hard road. I think it's God's way of making our spirits stronger. I'm praying for you, man :) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Laudate_Dominum Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 you're cool hyper. :wavey: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
crazycatholicgirl Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 (edited) The prison of our own torture....eats up our soul. The misery is unbearable and heavy weight. You are in my prayers!!!!!!!!!! Edited February 12, 2004 by crazycatholicgirl Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lil Red Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 wow. wow wow wow. i'm stunned. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
hyperdulia again Posted February 12, 2004 Author Share Posted February 12, 2004 I don't believe y'all read this. anyone have anything to say about narrative flow/word choices? Does it make sense? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Richard Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 I don't believe y'all read this. anyone have anything to say about narrative flow/word choices? Does it make sense? Don't worry about the technicalities, Hyper, you're a good writer, plain and simple. I read A LOT (good and bad) and I've tried writing too. You've got a talent, my friend, you should make good use of it! :) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 Reminds me of something I read by Padre Pio, where he was shown the two different worlds in which he would exist, and the world in which he have to defend against for others. Also reminds me of what Ignatius of Loyola called, "The two standards." Essentially, the two standards are comprised of a violent war, attack, as it were, between, essentially, good and evil. On one side there is tremendous consolation; an experience that is entirely supernatural, and a love for God that is unabiding. On the other side, are violent temptations, that will not cease, and constantly beat and try to wear you down. In essence, God wins, because all is subject to Him, but those below don't give up that easily and fight to the bitter end. You are certainly in my prayers. God Bless Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Azriel Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 its great hyper, stylistically speaking. you need to write more. and its deeply moving. prayers for you to our Mother. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
hyperdulia again Posted February 12, 2004 Author Share Posted February 12, 2004 Thank you everybody (especially Theo, Rich, and Az). It's not done, I think it will have to be a book. :lol: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lil Red Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 "He walks over to you. He dries your tears and He says “I love you,” again. You surrender, you let yourself feel the consolation of His Presence, the Strength of His Arms, and the persistence of His Wooing." I think this part really hit me the hardest. Surrendering to Him, to His grace and to His love is sometimes the hardest thing you can do in life. But it is so worth it, so wonderful to feel that embrace. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
hyperdulia again Posted February 12, 2004 Author Share Posted February 12, 2004 When I surrender to Him though, when I feel His consolation and open myself to the work of Grace, I still don't get an answer to the question at hand. Never. Which is why I've decided to stop caaaring about the qusetion at hand and to start working on just being with Him, on loving Him...it would be a sad thing to spend my life worried about the question rather than loving the One Who Has the Answer...to dies so obsessed with being sure about this one thing that I can't surrender to Him, that I can't tell Him that I did my best with the measly little bit of knowledge I've been given and that I love Him... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lil Red Posted February 12, 2004 Share Posted February 12, 2004 When I surrender to Him though, when I feel His consolation and open myself to the work of Grace, I still don't get an answer to the question at hand. Never. Which is why I've decided to stop caaaring about the qusetion at hand and to start working on just being with Him, on loving Him...it would be a sad thing to spend my life worried about the question rather than loving the One Who Has the Answer...to dies so obsessed with being sure about this one thing that I can't surrender to Him, that I can't tell Him that I did my best with the measly little bit of knowledge I've been given and that I love Him... that is it exactly!!! So many have trouble with just letting go, whether it be a question, their cares, their worries, and just being with Him, loving Him. I have trouble surrendering my cares to Him, my sins to Him, but I know that I am trying my best to not sin. But even though I strive for perfection, I know that I will be made perfect in Him, not by my own measly efforts. Does that make sense? I don't know if it does or not. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
hyperdulia again Posted February 12, 2004 Author Share Posted February 12, 2004 i getcha Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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