Why am I Catholic?

On my drive home today, I got to thinking about why I am a Catholic. Not that I have doubts—but because I wonder why everyone isn’t. I understand that most of us are sort of “born into” the religion of our parents. It isn’t always that simple, though. There are lots of spouses who have different faith traditions and even depth of conviction in the same faith, and that can lead to a real confusion in a child as to what to believe. So a lot of people grow up not believing in anything, or taking from this religion or that one and, in essence, making their own religion. And almost all of these new “religions” teach that the Catholic Church is wrong. My first question is, how did they come to that conclusion? Have they ever been to a Mass? Have they ever spent one hour with Jesus Christ, Himself in front of the Blessed Sacrament? I would be willing to bet that no, they haven’t. If they have, then they weren’t really listening to Him—the old “hardness of hearts” thing that is spoken about in both the Old and the New Testaments. I believe that while we may "inherit" a "religion", we don't inherit faith. We have faith through an act of our free will.

I heard it said once that people shouldn’t have to look for Christ—He’s everywhere! He comes to us! The trick lies in knowing how to recognize Him. Of course the most tangible way to find Him is in the Eucharist. I can’t begin to calculate how much more my faith in His mercy and my ability to recognize Him in those around me has increased since I became a daily Communicant. I can’t get enough!

And He knows it! Every day I see a new opportunity to grow in His love and to share that love with others. Sometimes the love is returned immediately. Sometimes not. I’m learning to trust more in Jesus that, while my efforts at loving Him through others is quite apparent to me, it may be “lost in translation” to the recipient of that love.

I wrote yesterday of some of the problems we encounter in getting people to pay their debts. I had one woman send me her debit card that is issued by the Social Security Administration along with her PIN number and the date she would have money placed on the card and asking me to charge the card a little more each month until she is paid up. She said her husband had recently passed away, she had a disabled son to care for, and had fallen behind about six months on her payments, but she was willing to make it up. She also said she was too embarrassed to come into the store to talk about it face to face for fear someone would not understand and think she was just trying to get out of paying her bill. I returned her card to her (unused, of course) along with a letter explaining that I could not put her on a payment plan because we don’t do that and it’s illegal in the storage industry to do so. I also gently but courteously chided her for trusting someone with her Social Security information she didn’t really know. I wrote that I would allow her to negotiate a move out at whatever cost she felt comfortable with. I stated in my letter that I understood her need for privacy in this matter and that she could trust that I would not subject her to any embarrassment and I was willing to discuss it with her by phone, if she preferred, and I gave her my personal cell phone number. She called me the next day—Man! The mail service is quick in Bakersfield!—She was crying. She said she appreciated the discretion and obvious concern that I showed for her situation and we came up with an agreeable solution. I ended the call with, “God bless you!” She said, “I could tell you believe in God by the words and understanding you showed in your letter.” I told her that I do believe and that my faith grows every day, and that I would pray for her that her situation gets better. She started crying again and thanked me.

There was another customer in a similar situation and I approached him in pretty much the same way I handled the lady. But his response was totally different. He felt that I was not grasping the situation completely and my offer of a settlement was unfair as he is a doctor (of chiropractic) and didn’t appreciate my condescending tone and my insistence that he vacate his storage room (even though I offered to let him move out without paying a dime of the $1500.00 he owes us). When I mentioned I was only trying to do the Christian thing, he said, “How about doing the RIGHT thing?” I’ll admit I got a little testy at first, but when I explained that the RIGHT thing involved NOT SELLING his possessions to get payment for what he owes us, he calmed right down. While I finally came up with a mutually agreeable solution, I’m sure I won’t be on this guy’s Christmas card list, but I'll pray for him, too.

So there you have it. Sometimes the love is returned, sometimes not right away. But I’m sure, since He knows everything, in the end I will get a return on the love I showed to Him when He showed Himself to me through these less fortunate members of His Body.

So why am I Catholic? Because He sustains my love for Him in the Eucharist, shows me His presence in others, and allows me to love Him by loving my neighbor—whether they want His love or act like they don’t want it. Does that make sense?

Another thought to chew on that occurred to me today. I notice that the more I try to reason my way to Christ, the more child-like my faith becomes. Has anyone else noticed that?