In which I receive good news.

I've neglected the blog lately, but that's not to say I haven't been keeping up on my reading and learning and experiencing. Here's a quick update:

St. Joseph proved to me that he was only getting warmed up when he threw me a small opportunity for some typing work on the feast of St. Joseph the worker. About four weeks ago, I resigned myself to moving out of the area to find work. I didn't want to leave the parish I'd just joined and I didn't want to leave my family, who are all still around here, but I was quickly running out of ways to make my loan payments. I looked at catholicjobs.com and applied to be an English teacher at a Catholic high school in Fairfax, Virginia. That Thursday I got a call from a company that makes closed captions. They found my resume online and asked if I'd like to come in for an interview. I drove out the next day. The office is a little less than 90 minutes from home. They called me the next Monday and offered me the job!

I'm in my second week at my new job, and I love it. The work is good (and it applies to my English degree), the people are super nice, the drive isn't even bad, and it's a schmancy grown-up job with insurance and vacation days and 401Ks and all that stuff I don't understand. I honestly believe I wouldn't have had this opportunity if my friends (and my friends' moms) and my priests hadn't been praying for me. Prayer can do wonders. I feel like this is where I belong.

And speaking of the parish I just joined, it's official: A lady from my parish called me and asked if I'd like to help decorate and make meatballs for Father M.'s going-away open house. Now I'm a real member.

I received a package in the mail on Saturday from E., who you may recall is studying in Rome. The package contained a lovely letter and a holy card with what I'm assuming is the scene from the Bible that features my favorite Latin construct, although I don't know that E. knew that. Lucky guess? Higher power? Anyway, it's the part where the woman says to Jesus, "Do not touch me." "Noli me tangere." That literally translates to, "Do not wish to touch me." I've always enjoyed nolo and volo.

The package from E. also included a beautiful rosary, with beads that look like ripe red berries, as a "welcome to The Church" present. E. says this rosary has been blessed by Pope Benedict, which is pretty cool. I was telling all this to my brother on Saturday at his birthday pool party. My brother is not Catholic, but nevertheless brought me a lovely rosary from Notre Dame when he visited Paris this winter. (He said to me, "I didn't know what I was doing, so I picked the pretty one," and I said, "That's what I do!")

Brother Mine seemed to be interested in what I was telling him, but that opened me up to derision from some of my friends. Unprovoked, they mocked my way of life (i.e. I have no desire to go to a store that sells sex toys), and one person likened a papal blessing to Tinkerbell's fairy dust. When I said I wanted to learn Italian and visit Italy in the next year or two, one friend said, "Wait, do you only want to go to Italy so you can see the Vatican?" as though the words tasted bad in her mouth. "Seeing as I have a friend who lives there," I said, "I thought I might stop by."

This incessant and uncalled for attitude is present in just a couple of my friends, but it's been grating on my last nerve. I endured it this weekend, but I was frustrated. I was fully prepared to give in to anger--or if not anger, a calm request that they shut their mouths--the next time the subject arose. In a mood to vent, and too shy to ask Father N.'s advice after Mass, I used the "Ask Father" link on Fr. Z.'s blog. And here is what I saw tonight. Fr. Z. actually answered my question! That was kind of cool. Even cooler was the advice he gave and the supportive words a bunch of people in the comments gave me. Fr. Z. says to let them see how joyful I am in my faith. They'll realize what they're missing eventually. He also says to keep up with my reading to make sure I can defend my faith when I'm confronted with misconceptions about Catholicism. It'll be tough, but I think I can manage not to resort to angry retorts. Is there a patron saint for that?

In other news, we had Ascension (Thursday) Sunday last week, and Pentecost this past week. I guess in the old calendar, Pentecost came with an octave like Easter and Christmas. Makes sense that it would. Does that mean the priests at Extraordinary Form Masses are wearing red vestments this week while the priests at the Ordinary Form have already switched back to green? I know green is supposed to be the usual color, but to me it's always jarring. The priests were wearing white when I first started going to Mass, so in my head that's what they wear by default.

Sacrament Bingo

It's been a crazy week for our diocese! Rome announced earlier this week that our bishop would be taking over a diocese in Illinois. Until then, he's apostolic administrator. After he leaves, a new apostolic administrator will be appointed until we get a new bishop. Which means we're currently bishopless (even though Bishop is still around) and it could be months or a year or who knows how long until we get a new one. And we don't know if someone will be transferred in or if one of our diocesan priests will be ordained bishop. All the seasoned Catholics are speculating about who might be ordained, of course, but I've never met any of the hypothetical candidates, so I have no opinion.

Speaking of ordination, today was the ordination of a new deacon and a new priest! It was a beautiful Mass (granted, it's really hard to get me to say any Mass isn't beautiful, but still). It was a very crowded, very big deal. There were maybe forty priests concelebrating, and yes, the bishop was allowed to ordain the two young men even though he's not technically our bishop because the ordinandi promise loyalty to him and his successors, which is a key point.

I think the most moving part of the Mass was during the litany of the saints, when the deacon-to-be and priest-to-be lay face down before the altar. And also when the newly ordained were being greeted by their fellow priests and deacons and everybody broke into a very long round of applause. I've read that applause during Mass is discouraged, but I think in this case it was totally justified.

T. has been in town this week for the ordinations, which is why I haven't been keeping up with the blog very well. I've been spending a lot of time at the local Tim Horton's. Mmmm...coffee. The night before last, I drew up my Sacrament Bingo card on a napkin. I split Holy Orders into the deacon, priest, and bishop varieties and plugged them into a 3x3 bingo card with the other six sacraments. It's very exciting to see or participate in a Catholic sacrament for the first time. After today, the only ones I need now are a baptism and ordination of a bishop (which I could very well see in the near future).

Someone else was thinking along the same lines. As we were all heading down to the undercroft after Mass today, a lady appeared out of the crowd and gave me a hug and said in my ear, "Another sacrament, huh?" I have no idea who she was, but I'm guessing she recognized me as a n00b, if you'll forgive the internet lingo. Otherwise she's psychic, which seems unlikely.

Oh, also, Harold Camping's (incredibly unlikely!) Rapture was supposed to be today, which I pretty much forgot about because I was too busy going to Mass and having lunch with friends and enjoying the sunshine with my mom and cousin.  Life is good.

Tomorrow is the fresh new priest's first Mass at the fancy dancy church in town. I doubt I'll get chance, but maybe if there's an opportunity I'll get a blessing from him. I would have today, but, as I think I've mentioned before, I'm rather shy. LK will be there. Perhaps she'll bolster me. A blessing from a new priest does come with an indulgence, after all. Kind of an incentive to get over one's shyness, right there.

You know what's awesome? The Church. It's all so great.

Yet another thing I thought I'd never do.

I have been ridiculously tired lately. I've always had a pretty bad caffeine habit, but I think I've had more coffee since Easter than I've had in all previous years combined. I'm not even kidding. I remember T. saying once that I should try to get to daily Mass. Daily Mass in our parish is at 8:30 a.m. at the latest. And I said, "I love church and everything, but that is really ridiculously early." I live half an hour from everywhere, which includes my church. In order to get to Mass by 8:30, I have to set my alarm for 6:40, which allows me, in an emergency, to hit the snooze button three times and still get to church on time if I put my make-up on at stop lights.

Here's how I know this: I've been going to daily Mass. I never thought I would get up that early, especially when I don't have to be at work until noon, but ever since I found out how truly awesome Mass is, I've wanted to go every day. Of course I can't afford the gas for that, so I go on days I work since I have to be in town anyway. Hence the newfound love of coffee. I don't get up and moving early enough to get my caffeine fix before the one hour fast starts, so I yawn my way through Mass (I'm not alone: Father M. has a rather contagious yawning habit) and enjoy every minute of it. Have I mentioned how awesome the Eucharist is? And then since I don't have to work until 12, I usually pop over to Tim Horton's for a delicious cup of black coffee and a lovely, cheap breakfast. Then I can go to the library or take a walk or learn Italian until work.

Days are so productive when they start early! But I'm a natural night owl, and even when I've been up for eighteen hours or I have to get up early again the next day, I have a hard time going to bed at a decent hour. So it starts all over again with the snooze alarm and the yawning and so, so much coffee. Case in point, it's about 12:45, this is my third blog post of the night, and I have to work tomorrow, which normally means I'd be getting up at 6:40ish. The reason this is my third blog post is because I had a huge gap between posts this week: by the time I got to my computer, I was too exhausted to think. The only reason I'm still awake right now is because I had half an energy drink with dinner and it's only just wearing off. I feel like I should sleep until 10 or so tomorrow, just to catch up and start the week off right. But I feel guilty, because if I have an opportunity to go to Mass, why wouldn't I take it?

I know I'm only obliged on Sundays, but to me, Mass is a privilege. We don't all grow up with regular sacraments. I never knew what I was missing until I was allowed to fully participate in them. I might should catch up on my sleep, but then again, that's what coffee's for, isn't it?

I think I just talked myself out of nine hours of sleep. What have I become?!

I get by with a little help from my friends.

I only work part time, and luckily I'm still living at home post-university, because it's really tough to find full time work. I've picked up a little typing work from a very nice man at church, and otherwise I've been applying anywhere where I don't think I'd be totally miserable. (At first I only applied to places where I thought I'd enjoy the work. I'm this close to expanding my search to include jobs I'd hate but would pay the student loans.) But it seems like lately when I've had a day off, I've been heading out to interviews or taking assessment tests at different companies. I really think I owe a lot of that to the prayers other people have been saying for me. St. Joseph seems to have stepped up for me in a big way, and I know a lot of my friends have been praying that I'll be able to find work, and I appreciate every word said on my behalf, and I thank the Lord for all the caring people in my life.

It's really made me realize that we can't always be all strong and independent. My parents are wonderful. Mom lets me live here without paying for rent or food unless I'm going out to eat of my own volition (that's a great word; it's from the Latin). On days when I'm especially broke, like that one day of the month when three of my four loan payments are due all at once, she'll give me a little money for gas or to get a bite to eat if I have a long day. Dad makes my car payments and pays for things like tires and wheel bearings. I tell my mom I want to be able to take care of myself, pay my own loan payments, etc. when she offers more, and I think that's a healthy attitude to have, to a point. I still have to be willing to accept her help when I need it. I'm lucky to have a mother who offers so much.

The same is true in my spiritual life. I've been looking for full time work for a year now, and at first I couldn't even get interviews even though I thought I was especially qualified for some of these jobs. Plus I write a mean cover letter. I wasn't asking for help, though. When I prayed, I didn't ask for help with my job search. I figured it was trivial compared to some of the problems other people are bringing before the Lord. But now that I've taken to asking St. Joseph for a little help, and my friends have offered to pray for me to find decent work, I'm getting more responses and more interviews. Of course I still have to get out there and do the legwork, but God helps those who help themselves. A recruiter from a company even contacted me! And I think I'd actually like working there!

I'm reminded of my former struggles with the concept of transubstantiation. I couldn't read or think my way out of it. An excellent understanding of what goes on during the consecration at Mass wasn't enough. I had to pray. I had to let others pray for me. I had to ask for the gift of faith. God offers us so much if only we're willing to accept it. Yeah, we have to do a little legwork, but isn't it worth it when it all begins to work out? Nothing is too small to take to the Lord. We have to be willing to admit that we can't always do it on our own, and He'll give us a helping hand. All we have to do is ask.

Incidentally, if anyone's looking for a full time proof reader, I'd be willing to schedule an interview. Or maybe someone could pay me to blog about awesome things.

We live in exciting times.

I haven't posted in a few days, and oh! the goings on in the world of Catholicism! On Friday, the feast of Our Lady of Fatima (of which I am only peripherally aware), Universae Ecclesiae came out. I've been doing a little reading on that, mostly on Fr. Z's blog, and I even listened to a podcast he made in which he read the whole text and explained a few things. Apparently this document is going to do very good things for people who enjoy the Extraordinary Form Mass. I am one of those people. I think it's just beautiful. The Ordinary Form is beautiful too, of course, but there's something about that EF Mass.

I thought it was very interesting that UE said that any group of people, even a group from separate dioceses, could get together and request an EF Mass, but not if they denied the validity or sacredness of the Ordinary Form (I'm paraphrasing). It really drives home the idea that these are two forms of the same rite, two parts of a whole. Universal Church, and all that.

I've also been learning a little more about the corrected translation that will be implemented this Advent. At first I was a little cantankerous about having to learn all new responses and such during Mass when I've only just learned these ones, but I see now that if we're going to have Mass in the vernacular, then it should be as close to the original text as possible, and what we're using now isn't as accurate as it could be. Because what we say and hear is going to affect what and how we believe (I can't take credit for that one; I'm kind of addicted to Fr. Z's blog). Most people can't just pick up the Latin and find out what the original words are: we have to rely on what we know, unless we know someone fluent in Latin (and probably Greek and Hebrew wouldn't hurt either). I don't think my venerable college Latin professor would want me calling him up with queries all the time.

Plus, when I complained last year that I would have to learn what goes on at Mass only to turn around and relearn a bunch of stuff, E. pointed out that I'd have the advantage, because everyone else is going to be stuck in their ways. I'm fresh out of RCIA with a mere one liturgical year under my belt. I got this.

Sacrament in search of theology

I've just been reading up on the sacrament of confirmation. I did a little googling on my own to find out what would happen during my confirmation at the Easter Vigil. On Palm Sunday, T. gave me this really great book of prayers which included a section on the sacraments and it outlined everything everybody was going to be saying, so I knew from reading the prayers that it had something to do with the Holy Ghost coming upon me. Maybe? I've always been a little fuzzy on the Holy Ghost anyway.

It recently occurred to me (as in about an hour ago) that I don't remember learning about what confirmation actually is in RCIA, even though I know we spent six weeks on the seven sacraments (for the curious, Holy Matrimony and Holy Orders were combined into one class). I have the sneaking suspicion that the one class I missed on the day I had food poisoning was the confirmation lesson. Just my luck.

So I've been reading, because that's what I do, and it seems as though I basically knew the hows and the whats when it comes to confirmation, but I didn't really know the whys. And I always like to know the whys. According to the encyclopedia on the Catholic Answers website, my confirmation was sort of a completion of my baptism, in the sense that one can't age unless he's already been born. The Holy Ghost is given to the recipient of confirmation to strengthen him and to make him a soldier of Jesus Christ. (It sounds a little like the armor of God.) The article states the following effects:

Confirmation imparts (1) an increase of sanctifying grace which makes the recipient a "perfect Christian'; (2) a special sacramental grace consisting in the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost and notably in the strength and courage to confess boldly the name of Christ; (3) an indelible character by reason of which the sacrament cannot be received again by the same person.

 I'm told even though I didn't fully understand the ins and outs of what was happening, it still counts. Which is nice, because I knew enough to know it was kind of a big deal. I feel a little sheepish that I didn't truly understand the purpose of the sacrament at the time, but even then I considered the night I was received into The Church, confirmed, and allowed to participate in the Eucharist for the first time to be the Best Day Ever. Now that I know more, I can appreciate it even more. Hopefully I can live up to the purpose of the sacrament.

Bonus feature: I have an Easter hat that will forever smell of chrism oil. An ongoing outward sign of the Best Day Ever.

It was only a matter of time.

It finally happened yesterday. I knew it couldn't be avoided forever. One of the perils of taking communion on the tongue: one of the extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion definitely touched my tongue. With his finger. But I don't know him, so I'm just going to assume his hands were clean. I have this thing about germs, you see.

It's really not the end of the world. A guy touching my tongue isn't worse than sharing a chalice with half the people at Mass, which I've done without a problem. (Unless he also touched everyone else's tongue. If I get sick I'll know why.) I find that I'm really all about the Eucharist, and little things like that that would normally bother me don't make much of a difference. I mean, we're talking about the Body and Blood of Christ, pulled straight from the crucifixion into our time, if I understand what I've read. In the grand scheme of things, Jesus dying on the cross makes my day-to-day neuroses about as troublesome as a dust mote.

Communion on the tongue is one of those things I surprised myself with, much like my decision to do face-to-face confession. I thought for the longest time that I would never ever let someone put the Body of Christ on my tongue. Surely I'd take it in the hand, and of course I wouldn't take the Precious Blood after everyone else had had their mouths on the chalice (and don't give me that propaganda about wiping the chalice or the alcohol content killing the germs). But one night in RCIA when we were discussing how to take communion, it suddenly occurred to me that I would be doing it the old fashioned way. (Not that there's anything wrong with communion in the hand; far be it from me to start some sort of argument. I've seen people get pretty fired up over it.) It's easier this way, anyway. I'm left-handed, so I feel like I'd probably do it backwards and screw everything up. And you know how I am about not wanting to mess up with any of these new fangled Catholic-y things.