Guadete Sunday, 2023.
Rejoicing over God's gift of gray-haired lay women.
A piece of graffiti, featuring Dorothy Day, on W. 13th St., Wichita, Kansas. Photo by Jeromiah Taylor
I began my conversion, formally at least, in 2020. I called the RCIA director at my cathedral, and although the cycle was already six months underway, she let me start. The director was an elderly, gray-haired woman, who we’ll call Mrs. B. She worked tirelessly throughout the year to facilitate people’s reception into the sacraments, and she followed an inner, holy voice, which inspired her to provide thorough, loving, and flexible cathachesis.
Dorothy Day thought that the Church coddled lay people. That She did not equip us with the spiritual repertoire necessary to live up to our calling of heroic virtue. Dorothy especially lamented the lack of focus on redemptive suffering. Dorothy would have loved Mrs. B, who explained, in the simplest, least frightening way she knew how, that discipleship amounted to a progressive initiation into the cross, and that that same cross had forever dignified and redeemed all suffering which sprung from love of God and neighbor.
I remember her saying, you may have heard of certain mortifications undertaken by the saints. All I’ll say is, I’m not that holy, life is hard enough on its own. But if you feel called to those disciplines, tell your confessor, and make you stay accountable to someone.
Later in the year, I went missing in action for several weeks. My conversion was fraught and ambiguous, and the rest of my life at the time was just as troubling. Finally, she emailed me: if you still want to be confirmed, give me a call.
So I called her; terrified, pacing outside of The Ulrich Museum of Art, beneath the monumental Joan Miro mosaic, “Personnages Oiseaux”.
To my chagrin, she answered.
Hi Jeromiah. How are you? We’ve missed you.
I’m all right, thank you, and you?
Oh I’ve been ok. Well, I’m calling to see whether you still want to move forward with this.
Yes, I do.
I’m glad to hear that. Where have you been the past few Wednesdays?
I’m kind of going through a hard time. I haven’t been going anywhere.
Well!, she laughed. I’ve had a few of those times myself. Just start coming when you can on Wednesday nights, and we’re gonna get you through this thing.
I tell you know, (perhaps even “verily, verily” lol), that I was not able to endure my conversion, and even culminate it in joy and wonder, because of the Bishop and his pomp, or the priest who, sitting in on the RCIA meeting on Sacramental Marriage, told nobody in particular, that same-sex marriage is an attack from the Devil on humanity, because the building block of human society is the family. I had held my tongue, and thought of Mrs. B’s cradle-Catholic catchphrase: offer it up!.
I was able to endure and culminate my conversion with joy and wonder because of Mrs. B. Because she embodied the spirit of today’s profound Declaration from the Dicastery for the Doctrine of The Divine Faith, Fiducia Supplicans, which says, in paragraph 25:
The Church, moreover, must shy away from resting its pastoral praxis on the fixed nature of certain doctrinal or disciplinary schemes, especially when they lead to “a narcissistic and authoritarian elitism, whereby instead of evangelizing, one analyzes and classifies others, and instead of opening the door to grace, one exhausts his or her energies in inspecting and verifying.”[16] Thus, when people ask for a blessing, an exhaustive moral analysis should not be placed as a precondition for conferring it. For, those seeking a blessing should not be required to have prior moral perfection.
Yesterday, on Guadete Sunday, 2023 (Dec. 17, one day before the Dicastery’s Declaration), I was inspired, blessed, and sanctified by another gray-haired lay woman.
I had agreed to meet the lady, who we’ll call Ms. P, after the 8:30 mass at the parish I frequent. Ms. P is the volunteer in charge of the parish’s Adoration Chapel, which has maintained perpetual adoration for 30 years. I had called her, asking to be assigned a weekly hour, after reading repeated calls for adorers in the parish bulletin. Waiting at the back of the church as instructed, I thought perhaps I’d missed her. We didn’t know each other’s faces. She had told me only, via text message, to look out for a “gray-headed lady, elder”, followed by the old lady emoji.
Finally, I saw a lady, indeed gray-headed, with silver hair tied back into a tight knot, wearing a long black rain coat. She caught sight of me, pointed and smiled. I did the same, and approached her. After we confirmed each other’s identity, she said, “I get short of breath, so we’ll drive if you don’t mind”. As we exited the Church, we ran into the priest under the portico, talking with parishioners.
Do you know Fr. J already, Jeromiah?
No not yet.
Oh good!
Father, Father!, she said, steering me towards the priest. This is Jeromiah, he’ll be helping us at the adoration chapel, we are so happy to have him.
The priest looked at me, trying to place my face or retrieve a name, but he was not able to. I am not a member, and generally avoid priests when they are not vested.
Wonderful, Fr. J said, finally. Well, Ms. P will take great care of you.
I’m sure, I said. Nice to meet you Father.
Ms. P did take great care of me. We drove across the parking lot, past the Church, and past the food pantry, and past the school. Stopping right in front of the small convent, where the adoration chapel, a converted bedroom, is located.
We exited the car, and approached the door labeled “Adoration Chapel”.
After explaining the door codes to me, Ms. P led me into the ante-chamber, and then, finally, entered the code to the chapel itself. We entered, and Ms. P knelt all the way down on one knee before the Blessed Sacrament exposed in monstrance, bowed her head, stood, and then tapped me on the back to make my own genuflection in aisle, which being so small, only afforded space for one of us to genuflect at a time.
Then she said, well that’s it, and tapped me on the back to exit before she did. Driving me back to my car, Ms. P, said, we are so glad to have you, I was overjoyed to get your call. Just go before the Sacrament, and Jesus will love you more and more.
I will Ms. P, I said. I’m glad to be here.
Ok, bye bye hon.
My time with Ms. P and the Blessed Sacrament surely gave me cause to rejoice, and proclaim “glad tidings”; the same tidings I had been given by Ms. P and Mrs. B, who thereby equipped me to pass them on to others. This is what Pope Francis means by Evangelii Gaudium. Both these women are called to God’s side, I am sure of it.
Then, as you can imagine, waking up this morning to “the news”, inspired me even more. Renewed my faith in the Holy Spirit working quietly and steadily in the hearts of so many, and trying always to renew and drive Christ’s Church more perfectly into His love, mercy, and sacrifice.