Stop! Relic Time....

Wednesday October 14- Marta the American Protestant encounters English Catholicism full force….

The Spec team had our first “outreach” day retreat in a school, St Martha’s, an all-girls private Catholic secondary school. I really enjoyed my assigned session, which was entitled “Lets Hear It for the Girls”- taking a look at female images in the media and the societal perceptions and expectations which result. I felt in my wheelhouse, but only with my session material. Man I clearly am not accustomed to Catholic schools- either here or at home. (It occurred to me my only real encounters with the sort at home were the occasional peak around St. Boniface and basketball games at St. Mary’s.)

Just when I figured this good little Protestant had experienced enough Catholicism for one day, it was a quick turnaround before I was in a SPEC vehicle again heading to Westminster Cathedral. Nothing says “Be respectful and embrace the Catholic experience” more than spending roughly 6 hours praying, worshipping, singing and sitting in silence amidst the main attraction, the relics of St. Therese and the thousands of English Catholics who turned up to see them. (They were in England for about a week....)

All I could really do is to take it all in and continually be in awe of my surroundings and just where this year has taken me. It was beyond amazing singing and reading in that space. As cliché as it sounds, being in a space of such epic proportions is truly humbling. It really was neat to be a part of the 9-10pm and 1-2am SPEC shifts of leading worship and prayer. The religion and history nerd in me was all kinds of excited. Experiencing any form of religion is fascinating for me, although I’m still trying to grasp the idea of Saints… The lifelong Lutheran in me struggled with the concept of people waiting HOURS in a queue to look at/pray/fall to their knees in front of the relics of a woman. I had 6 hours of mind-boggling. I couldn’t get over these crowds. The queue resembled lines for the Millennium Force at Cedar Point. There were vendors selling fish and chips outside. The cathedral was open through the night and even during our late night shift, there was a good 200 people there. Incredible.

At one point I was assigned to read scripture, but I found out the lectern mic was turned off. (Thanks in part to a shabby lookin’ gent in the audience who ran up to say “I can’t hear you!!!”) I joked later that they sniffed out my Protestant blood pretty darn quick. 

At one point, I leaned over to one of my English Catholic friends and whispered, “Alright…so I understand like 30% of this.” I felt like an outsider in a way. But, as I struggled and tried my hardest to comprehend, it made me wonder how much all these adoring visitors truly understand. (My friend said he understood about 50 precent.) There must be some conviction behind your belief if you exercise such devotion….right? My perception of Catholicism has certain baggage- a lot stemming from growing up in U.S culture- where it sometimes seems like being Catholic is something you are rather than something you believe. Where you’re born into it, don’t ask questions, and stray away from the strictness and expectations during numerous stages of your life.

My faith is one built on questions. Questions that sometimes produce better understanding of my convictions, other times uncertainty.
I strive to continually embrace the questioning and struggles and doubt in my head, both religious and secular…. knowing that its OK to feel the urge to interrupt St. Therese’s English visit with a loud, American “Huh????”

Shining my light,
Marta