An Accusation of Magic

I've been meaning to publish this newest guest post from Molly, and I'm staring Friday off right by clicking "publish"!  Molly is the lovely author behind Molly Makes Do.  She is a wife and mommy, and entered the Catholic Church in 2012...welcome home, girl!  Stop by here corner of the blog-o-sphere and check out what she has going on!  Today she is writing on her experience on how entering the Catholic Church really became a magical experience for her...

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When I was married I was still searching.  I made it very clear that I wasn’t comfortable getting married in a Catholic Church, the religion my husband grew up with, and we made other arrangements.  I didn’t know what I was being drawn to, but I knew with a great deal of certainty that it wasn’t Catholicism.  I might as well walk around with an “I *heart* the Crusades” t-shirt on.

My husband was clear – he didn’t mind what ever I found that satisfied my soul, but he’d be remaining Catholic.  He wasn’t even that devout, but he was steadfast in this.  My first reaction to this was probably something poetic and philosophical like “Seriously?”  It was probably around that time that I started asking him ridiculous amounts of questions of an equally poetic nature - “So what’s up with the Saint thing?” is a good example.

Then I got myself in trouble; I started reading and let this be a warning to you.  If you’re at all interested in Catholicism and you start reading, it’s all up hill from there.

Eventually I started to know the answers to my questions – I knew more about the Mary thing, the Saint thing, and the prayer thing – but I still couldn’t figure out why my husband was so committed to staying Catholic.  I had grown up Protestant and was used to shopping for and jumping ship between churches so what was the big deal? 

Then, one night, I was reading a section in one of my many Catholic books about the Eucharist and suddenly, just for a moment I had figured out.  I knew exactly why he was so drawn to his religion and I was poised to attack.  A few hours later Ben walked through our front door and I just about catapulted myself over the couch, finger raised accusingly in the air.

“I know it!  I’ve figure it out!  I know why you like being Catholic so much,” I shouted.  “It’s because it let’s you believe in MAGIC!”

Now, dear reader, do not worry I’m not and was not talking about real Magic (or well actually fake Magic, because come on now), and luckily my intelligent, but incredibly nerdy husband knew what I was trying to say.

I had realized that the Church let my husband have every reason to believe in the fantastical, the unbelievable, and the miraculous and that spoke to him.  He could go to Mass and not just have a nice worship service, but witness a miracle every Sunday.  He could teach his child about amazing men and women who could do wondrous things because of their faith.  He could believe that faith and prayer can work miracles.

It was then that I realized what the Church offered him and I, a chance to be part of something real, something that could have real effects.  A symbol is just that and nothing more, but a real presence and a chance to engage fully in our roles in this amazing world around us through our faith, well, that’s kind of magical.