On a recent trip to New York City, I was privileged to see the legendary St. Patrick’s Cathedral for myself. Having been raised in a Protestant tradition- I was surprised by how deeply I was moved by this experience. The majesty, rituals and traditions of The Catholic Church have always held me in awe. My brothers and sisters from my Dad’s first marriage were all raised Catholic- had rosaries, first communions and Godparents, went to catechism, Catholic schools and midnight masses...it all looked so much richer than my seventies era post hippy , stripped down post pomp and circumstance, non-denominational church life at the Woodland Drive In Church. We had a bible retitled “God is Love”, Sunday school in the concession building and our own
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I find the discussion on this point tedious. After two thousand years- what can be refuted or disproved certainly would be. As pointed out in chapter 4 of ‘Life of Jesus’- “Mainstream experts overwhelmingly agree that the core of the gospel narrative is historically sound.” Our neighbors here with in West Michigan (and our peers throughout most of The U.S.) have certainly heard His message, and I have taken their ‘intellectual’ rejection of it with a heavy sigh and heavier heart. It seems just as sad and hopeless as the conspiracy theorist explaining how the moon landing was staged, or the holocaust never happened...committed, to ridiculous extremes, to believing only the worst. The cynics are so set get so mired down in details- picking everything (especially The Gospels) apart over perceived ‘inconsistencies’ that I literally never even saw …show more content…
Patrick’s that moved me to tears. It wasn’t the history, artistry or gilt. It wasn’t the stories of the saints, the stations of the cross or the whispered prayers of those around me. It wasn’t the nun who prayed for me when I asked her a procedural question about lighting candles as a Protestant. What moved me to tears inside St.Patrick’s Cathedral was the visceral recognition of the depth of the love I have for God, and He for me. My childhood church was right- God is Love. These last six weeks have helped me articulate that love in a way I haven’t been able to before. Thank
I find the discussion on this point tedious. After two thousand years- what can be refuted or disproved certainly would be. As pointed out in chapter 4 of ‘Life of Jesus’- “Mainstream experts overwhelmingly agree that the core of the gospel narrative is historically sound.” Our neighbors here with in West Michigan (and our peers throughout most of The U.S.) have certainly heard His message, and I have taken their ‘intellectual’ rejection of it with a heavy sigh and heavier heart. It seems just as sad and hopeless as the conspiracy theorist explaining how the moon landing was staged, or the holocaust never happened...committed, to ridiculous extremes, to believing only the worst. The cynics are so set get so mired down in details- picking everything (especially The Gospels) apart over perceived ‘inconsistencies’ that I literally never even saw …show more content…
Patrick’s that moved me to tears. It wasn’t the history, artistry or gilt. It wasn’t the stories of the saints, the stations of the cross or the whispered prayers of those around me. It wasn’t the nun who prayed for me when I asked her a procedural question about lighting candles as a Protestant. What moved me to tears inside St.Patrick’s Cathedral was the visceral recognition of the depth of the love I have for God, and He for me. My childhood church was right- God is Love. These last six weeks have helped me articulate that love in a way I haven’t been able to before. Thank