Conversion.

Over the last few months, I have been fortunate enough to yet again be living in the same house with a catechumen.
(You will recall that last year, Pa Beck was received into the Church after a grueling 6 month RCIA program which once included Father dismissing class early so that we could all enjoy the 2005 Chicago White Sox "March to World Series Victory.")

Being so intimately connected with a person seeing the Roman Catholic Church for the first time is such a priceless gift.
One often hears parents say stuff like, "Christmas/the Field Museum/baseball is so different when you have children. It's like seeing it for the first time."
I imagine that what I am feeling and seeing is the spiritual equivalent of that.
It is such a joy to really see the Holy Spirit, up close and personal, working in someone.
It is such a delight to see a look of understanding come across someone's face when they, for the first time, understand Catholic teaching on a particular subject.
It's also very fun to have someone who enjoys talking about Church-related matters all the time, as do I.
(Converts FAMOUSLY want to talk about nothing but the Church, and for good reason. We cradle Catholics naturally took our Faith for granted, at least I know I did. But converts! They love it all, can't get enough!)
As a girl, it's also fun to sit around and talk about "Cutest Popes in History", or "Which Saint I have a Crush On."
(J. has informed me that, although she has never actually seen St. Thomas Aquinas, he's her Saintly crush. I told her that that was perfectly acceptable - that brilliance is highly attractive, even dead sexy.)
It's really amazing when, for the first time, you start to hear the Catholic-to-be evangelizing to someone else.
J. evangelizes to her Protestant mother (who is one of the sweetest people on Planet Earth) about Mary like I never could.
I almost fell off my chair when I overheard part of her "Hail Mary" conversation include the phrase "angelic salutation."
She is living proof that if you seek, you shall find.
Like a kid in a candy store, she can't get enough, doesn't know where to turn next. 2,000 years of Church brilliance is at her disposal, and she intends to avail herself to it all.
But that's not all.
She studies so much and makes such observations that I often learn from her.
The other night, she came in and sat down on the couch and said, "I think I need to wear a veil to Mass."
It was no different than if she had said, "I think I want pizza for dinner."
I said, "Okay, then we'll get you a veil. What made you realize that?"
She informed me that she had been reading St. Paul's writings on the matter and had come to the conclusion that it was something she should be doing.
She also mentioned that Church law was never changed with regard to the matter, and one couldn't just go about changing just because society did. If the Church was still clear in the matter, and the law had never been abrogated, then logically, we should still be wearing veils.
Here, specifically, is what she was referring to.

Anyhow, I can't argue with that. I realized that the reason I hadn't been wearing a veil was that I was committing the sin of pride.
I didn't want people to stare. I didn't want to stand out in the crowd. I wanted to blend.
Therefore, I refused to wear a veil.
Now, I realize that sometimes I have to do things that make me uncomfortable, at least in the beginning.

This is not an indictment of women who do not veil. That is their business, ultimately.
But for me, personally, pride had become more important to me than my heart's instruction.

It feels odd, but I must admit I do enjoy feeling as though I am in my own little "room."
I like to cover my peripheral vision and I like to feel alone.

But this is not about veils. This is about how amazing the conversion process is, and how joyful it can be to witness.
Let me just say: J. has the potential to be a very influential Catholic convert. Her wisdom and understanding comes not from her but from God. The clarity and calm with which she explains her position should be an example to us all. And I just wanted to share that.

(I should also mention how wonderful it has been to witness my husband's conversion. We were discussing redemptive suffering the other day, and thanks to his reading of St. Faustina, he was able to eloquently and intelligently speak of the topic, as he can do with many other theological topics nowadays.)