Carroll College has been a sort refuge for me since I arrived in Helena. It’s small, quiet, and has the feel of energy I was used to while I was a student at Morris. The Reach house I'm staying at is not even a block away, so the campus is where I like to be while I'm on the phone or just need some time to myself. Today I went to Mass at 9:30pm at the Carroll College campus.
I sat in the back because I was slightly late, having gotten a little lost trying to find the place. When I entered the chapel for Mass, I was slightly off balance. Here I was at a college campus for Mass, just like I had been at the Newman Center every Thursday for the last three years while I was a student at UM Morris.
The opening song began, and I was instantly comforted with familiarity. “Here I am to Worship.” Yep, memorized that song at Newman. Only, it wasn’t the same version I’ve song over and over again. It was in a different key, sung at a slower tempo, and some of the notes were held longer. Not a big deal, but I was annoyed since I wasn’t able to enjoy the song as much. Mass preceded as normal, though it was clear that it was an unnaturally late hour to be having Mass… kind of like at Newman. The priest was cracking jokes during his homily which was obviously geared toward college students… just like at Newman. And hugs were exchanged rather than handshakes at the sign of peace… very Newman, yes.
But gosh darn it… it was not Newman. I knew a few of the Reach people there, as much as you can really know anyone in 10 days but otherwise recognized no one. The songs were all sung weirdly. Everyone was wearing purple instead of maroon. And it just wasn’t as personable, which is likely to be the case when there are 200 people in a chapel rather than 20.
I understood that it was a different way of doing things. Obviously the minute details of how the Mass was carried out were going to be different just as they’re different in each parish. What I didn’t understand was why these details were bothering me so much.
At this point I’m assuming you’ve read my first blog. All you really need to know was that I was flooded with God’s grace before I flew to Montana. I had very little worry about moving from home or about the work I would soon begin training for.
Up to this point in the Mass since I arrived in Helena, I’d been wondering why I’m here. It's like the grace I received to accept the big move disappeared as soon as I landed in the city. I felt like I wasn’t really connecting with the other Reach members. I felt like I couldn’t express my true self because so many people on the teams already had a somewhat boisterous personality. The spiritually of people seemed far beyond anything I had experienced, and I was especially intimidated by those 18-year-olds straight out of high school whose words of prayer are as elegant as the words in the Bible.
I was struggling not to become this quiet person in the corner with nothing to offer. I’ve fought that battle before, and I saw no need why I should have to fight it again. But for some reason, here the challenge to speak up was in my face once more.
I felt like I really became myself when I found the Newman Center in college. Nothing gave me more joy than to see people walk in those doors for an event or just to study. That familiarity was real, and I found myself longing for it as I sat in that chapel on Carroll College, once again frustrated in the middle of Mass that I’d sung a wrong note that would have been correct if I was back home.
Today in one of my Reach training sessions, we discussed different idols that distract us from Jesus. We quickly glossed over the obvious idols like Facebook, TV, and things we do for fun and instead focused on the idols that are less obvious. Working too hard, even if that work is something that helps the church. Craving emotional security in faith. I so highly valued the community that I’d surrounded myself in that I couldn’t handle the shock of being outside that community even though the community that I'm in now is just as beautiful. How ridiculous is that?
Today I came to terms with something I didn’t realize I needed to come to terms with. I wasn’t at the Newman Center anymore, and that was a good thing. Not that the fellowship I had there was bad, it was beautiful, but it was without a doubt distracting me from the real beauties of the Mass. I desired fellowship more than I desired Jesus Christ, and that, I believe, is the definition of an idol. And a dang well hidden one at that. I always saw idols as those things that draw your attention from Jesus like busyness of life. I never even imagined that it could be the very thing that drew me to Jesus in the first place – friendship and acceptance.
I think it would be really easy for me right now to proclaim some divine revelation and to say that now all is well in my once troubled heart. But it’s not. I can guarantee you that I will struggle tomorrow with being myself. It’s just going to be my reality for a bit. But now that I know why I was struggling with that, I can begin to heal and work my way into a new community, one just as beautiful, but more importantly, one that I can grow to appreciate under the authority of Jesus Christ. Rather than letting whatever community I’m in to consume me as the end-all goal in my pursuit for holiness, I can see it for as it is – simply another of the many gifts given by Jesus Himself.
