I have reason to believe that I was a vowed religious person in a past life.
When I was young, my mom referred to me as "Sister Kristin." I identified strongly with Frauline Maria in Sound of Music. I felt the strength of her committment to her faith, and also her deep and overwhelming love she had for the Von Trapp children and, especially, the Captain. My best friend and I used to dance around the backyard singing the Our Father on a Sunday afternoon, and would use our leftover pizza crusts to take turns giving and receiving communion while declaring to one another that it was "the body of Christ."
In high school I became very involved in church community. I sought comfort in the company of my choir directors, priest and youth minister. I felt sheltered and challenged at the same time by the call to faith in action that I was receiving and giving as a peer leader. My Church was one that cared for its people in a covenantal relationship. This is what I was learning. Dedicating oneself to God has enormous rewards, here on earth and beyond. Denying the desires of the flesh was the goal - worldy, selfish things like wanting more sleep, or wondering what it was like to be drunk, or craving the attention of cute but off-limits boys.
Just this past weekend I had an out-of-town meeting of my administrative team for a summer youth program of which I am director. I stayed in a community of Marianist brothers that live on a college campus, and was invited one night to attend a vocations night intended to provide students the opportunity to come hear the stories of the faith lives and calls of women and men religious and to ask questions. The three who gave testimony shared beautiful stories of growing up in the Church and receiving "the call" from God to live a life devoted to God in a special way as a sister or brother/priest. I related to much of what these three had to share, and found myself returning, again, to that question. What if? What if God is calling me to be a vowed religious, and I'm ignoring the call? Will I ever be happy?
I have done my share of asking this question, going all the way back to high school and reaching a height in college, where I found myself called, once again, to participate in church ministry related things. I went on to work the past 10 years in youth ministry, even teaching the Catholic faith (or some version of it) as a high school religion teacher. I have been in more religious community houses, retreat centers and sacristies, and to more religious conferences, spiritual events and more than most people my age (though not more than most of the friends I've made over the years). My life, at least since jr. high school, has been a living testament to what one can experience when deeply rooted in the mystery of the Eucharist and the faith life of the Church. Why, then, would I not be convinced to follow the path of holiness and live a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in a community of people doing the same?
I have a lot of friends in the same boat. Many of them have become, or are on their way to being married. Over the weekend, during my visit, I witnessed one such friend of my receiving a hard time from some of the Brothers who remember that not to long ago they were nurturing in him a potential call to a religious vocation. "Way to turn your back on God and the Church and go get married." They were kidding, of course. But the nature of the ribbing really got me thinking about some very deep-seated thinking among faithful people throughout my experience, and it goes something like this: One cannot live a life devoted to God and to the church by getting married; one must become a priest/brother/sister to live the holiest life possible. Now, I know that this is not true, but hearing the joking indicates that it was, at one point, and quite possibly still is on some level, an accepted truth of holiness. And it's a dangerous one.
It's the same idea that propels us to speak only of vowed religious life when referring to vocations. It's the notion that being holy necessarily means giving up all desires of the flesh (which separate us from God, of course) and this necessarily rules out marriage because it involves sex (which is less-than holy, of course).
My problem, I suppose, is that I want it all. I want all of it. I want a life dedicated to God, I want to contribute to and receive from the church (which I expand to include more than just those of the Catholic religion, but that's another post), and I want to share my love with a man through building a home a family and a life together. I want to wake up in the morning, turn on the kettle and sit in quiet for 15 minutes connecting to and communicating with God, and then head back to bed with my cup of tea to make love to my husband before the kids get up and we busy ourselves with preparations for our school and work days. I want to pack lunches, drop off at school and then head to my job where I work with people who are passionate about making a positive difference in the world through ministry in some shape or form. I want to belong to and participate in a community of friends who share belief in what a life well-lived looks like - no regrets, no reservations and no restrictions. I want to believe that it's possible to live all-the-way in this world (this married, child-bearing, PTA meeting-attending world) and still maintain a sense of the sacred.
In the past life in which I speak, I have reason to also believe that I may have been punished for wanting all of these things. Maybe I punished myself. Maybe I was banished. I don't know. But whatever happened, I felt trapped - bound by my own committment. I carried that karma into this life. And I think that I've returned to release that. I have done some work with the judgments that I have about holiness and what it looks like to be holy. The Church's teaching has evolved so much farther to where we are teaching that there is sacredness in every day life (and we're actually believing it). Yet, I still carry around this very deep fear that I might not recognize myself, or my God, in any lifestyle other than single or "dedicated" to God in a special way.
Is it too crazy for us to think of marriage as a dedication to God? If God is love, and marriage is about a covenant of love, then marriage is very much about God. And Jesus told us that we cannot love God and hate our brother, and, futhermore, that the greatest commandment is the three-fold love of God, neighbor and selves.
"On this day of your life, Kristin, we believe God wants you to know ... that life is not a distraction from, life is an occasion for prayer.
You don't need a special place or special time to pray. You don't need to be in a special mood to pray. Praying is like breathing, - continuous, essential, life-giving, - praying is the conversation with God you start with birth and continue into old age. Praying is your celebration of God, - everything you do, everything you think, everything you say is another word, another sentence of your prayer."
