Tarnished, Tattered, Torn: Discovering the hidden treasure
The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field.— Matthew 13:44
Three years ago I received Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray, Love for my birthday. I read it on a flight to India, where I spent a month praying with Indian Catholics, meditating in ashrams, taking yoga classes, and visiting with mothers and children of the Hyderabad project of the Christian Foundation for Children and Aging (CFCA).
India was an experience—lonely and scary at times, invigorating, beautiful, sad, awesome, frustrating, foreign, and familiar all at once. I went for adventure, and that’s what I found.
When the film came out last year, I eagerly went to see it. After the movie a friend asked, “Why don’t folks ever come to us for enlightenment?”—us being the Catholic Church.
To anyone other than cradle Catholics, we seem a bit pedestrian—especially compared to some of the Eastern faiths. Bishops and pastors are cast into roles of corporate CEOs rather than enlightened gurus; worship is often perfunctory and uninspired; energy and effort are dedicated to building projects, fundraising, and fish fries. Ho-hum. We are not exotic.
But then I remembered individuals I have met through our parish’s RCIA process—men and women who had found what they were looking for after years of searching. They were overwhelmed and inspired by the stately beauty of our Catholic liturgy, the wisdom of our theological tradition, and the dedication of our saints, both those who have gone before and those still living among us. They felt a calling to this place, to this community, to this Church. Much like my own discovery of the Catholic Church.
Perhaps I should explain that I am an adult convert. At the age of twenty-one, I was a wandering, homeless young adult seeking identity. I found myself in the Church and fell in love. It happened in a very special place—the campus of a Catholic university where seminarians, laypeople, and vowed religious studied and worshiped together. In those privileged years I lived among some of the most dedicated disciples and most brilliant minds of our Church.
I am blessed to have found such an inspiring (even exotic) Church. Its splendor is so plainly visible to me, and to this day I am compelled to seek it out, to work to create it, and to share it with others. I think this vision of the Church is the one most ordinary folk long for. When this treasure is found, they recognize and relish it.
One of my resolutions this year is to dig in even deeper to this all-too-familiar Church. Will you join me?
Paige Byrne Shortal writes from her home in rural Missouri. Contact her and read her weekly meditation at www.paigebyrneshortal.com.