A Letter for Holy Week

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

The day I stopped my ministry as an altar server I was lost. I felt my role and place in the church was over and nothing could replace it. Dramatic, maybe, but these were and are the feelings that still run through my mind from time to time. I wonder, could anything match that experience in growth, in prayer, in feeling like I had a role in the body of Christ? I was not seeking a title or powerful role in the church as some of my peers were seeking, I knew the possible vocations before me of wife, mother, or religious sister. I know the many other ways I could be active as a lay minister, but would there be another role where I felt close to God and to His beauty in the way I had when I was in my alb, up on that altar, active in my parish community? It was a time of crisis on my vocational journey. 

Fast forward 15 years, and I see a wounded Church attacked from both the inside and out. I see an attack on girl altar servers, on lay ministers in general, and on what form of the Mass is the “correct” or “only” form.  I see only that I am only one of the 3 out of 9 grandchildren still remaining close to the Truth, Beauty, and Goodness of the Church, and likely less than 50% of my Catholic school peers are practicing Catholics if anything at all. I see the pain, tears, suffering, and struggles of the past 2 decades. I see parishes close, and pro-life organizations firebombed, Catholics arrested, and our values attacked on the grand stage.  Yet! Yet, I have hope and faith in the beauty and goodness of Christ. 

From my parent’s home, I can see our parish’s steeple. At night it glows in the darkness. In the summertime, as the trees are filled with lush green leaves, it can be hard to see, yet if you look for it, you can find it. If you desire to see it, you can position yourself on the lawn or driveway in the right spot and see straight through the trees, across the railroad, and through a cemetery to see the glowing white steeple. How far we have come from a time when church bells rang loud and the community was built around her stone, brick, and wood structures. Yet, there is hope! 

I have always been the type that looks like a child throwing a temper tantrum when trying to give up on hope. I don’t know how to do it. Sometimes this trait is painful, and sometimes it leads me down a rugged and maybe not the wisest path. Yet, hope is as much a part of me as my beating heart and the blood flowing through my veins. It is this hope that allows me to step forward each day even without all the answers or a clear vision of what each day will bring. 

When I was an altar server, I loved serving the Triduum. From Holy Thursday to Good Friday and finally arriving at the Easter Vigil we see the great manual for life. We not only see the laying of the foundation of the Church, but we also see a guide through community, friendship, prayer, suffering, love, and what it truly means to keep our sights on Heaven. Christ in his final days showed us the importance of friendship and community as he gathered at the Last Supper, he showed us how to love and love through suffering, and he showed us how to pray, trusting in the Father. In the laying of the foundation of our faith, Jesus showed us how to live. 

I have come to find my new ministry, the one that will not replace, but build upon my over a decade as an altar server and server trainer. It is a much harder path, with the landscape of faith, the stigma of dementia, and the isolation I feel not knowing who else is out there doing this work of helping those living with dementia continue their faith. But I have hope. I see the steeple, hear the bells, and trust in the Lord.

For those of us still Catholic, for those of us looking for a place in the Church today, stand strong. Find your role within the Church, there is a place for each and every one of us, each being fruitful, each glorifying God. Look for the steeple. Never stop searching for Christ in your community and in yourself. Allow it to bring wonder as it glows in the darkness of our time. Listen for the church bells, hearing the voice of God. Live as Christ did during his final days, with boldness, grace, and love, never shying away from the suffering but moving through it. Let us unite in our love of Christ. Let us remain strong in Faith. Let us rejoice for we know that the sun on Easter Morning will always RISE. 

Love,

A rambling, imperfect, hopeful daughter of God. 

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