T
TimothyH
Guest
Cafeteria Catholics… Lukewarm Catholics… Cultural Catholics… Self-excommunicated by their own disobedience… Irreverent Catholics… Damned to eternal hell…
What I always try to remember is that I was not unlike that person long ago, and that I have no idea when that person may be converted. What I always try to remember is that I don’t know God’s plan for anyone, least of all myself.
God waited patiently for me - waited 43 years - all the time keeping me safe from harm, keeping me alive and safe in spite of my every attempt to kill myself through drugs, car wrecks, smoking and drinking, and just general stupidity. I was bound in a lifestyle of habitual sin and I’m sure many looked at me as an uneducated, disobedient, cafateria Catholic who was not worthy of the sacraments and damned by my own choices, by my own free will, to eternity in Hell. I remember in my mid-20’s, a woman I worked with and one of my former teachers from high school talking about me right in front of me like I wasn’t even there. They were wagging their heads and saying that I might as well just go overdose on drugs right then-and-there because that is what was going to happen eventually anyway and that I was just a waste of life. What they said still hurt, in spite of the drugs.
But God waited patiently for 43 years, slowly getting me to quit drugs and cut my hair, giving me a wife and and children - which I didn’t deserve - and using them to teach me responsiblity. When my daughter died, God gave me a chance to turn to him but I wasn’t ready so he waited patiently for another dozen years while I continued in sin, until the departure of my wife finally broke me and I had no place to go but to God. And the whole time, God kept me safe and out of harms way because he knew that it was just a matter of time. The whole time he called to me, whispered to me, said “Psssst! Over here…”, and slowly changed me, imperceptively, until I was ready. God had a plan which I wasn’t aware of.
When I see “Cafateria Catholics”, I see myself. When I see lukewarm Catholic, I see myself. When I see uncatechized Catholics or people who are addicted to sin or who recieve the Eucharist in a state of sin, I see myself. I try to remember that not long ago, I was exactly like them. And I try to always remember that I don’t know God’s plan for anyone. He could have big plans for that cafateria Catholic, or that sinner, or that sex addict, or that guy who shows up at Mass in bermuda shorts and topsiders. I have no idea when that person is going to be converted. I don’t know God’s plan for anyone, let alone myself.
That’s one of the reasons why I chose St. Augustine as my confirmation saint. He was a drinker and bound by slavery to habitual sexual sin. But God can convert anyone, and we really don’t know who or when it will happen. St. Augustine and I undersand that.
Go easy on the guy in bermuda shorts and topsiders because he may be at Mass to pray to God that he be granted freedom from addiction to porn. Give the guy in a sweatshirt and sneakers a break because he might have just had his frist sober month in many hears and those are all the clothes he owns. Cut the Methodist husband of that Catholic woman a break, because he doesn’t understand - it’s not his fault - and he just might read John 6 one day and suddenly it all makes sense.
Lighten up a little… please. We don’t know God’s plan.
-Tim-
What I always try to remember is that I was not unlike that person long ago, and that I have no idea when that person may be converted. What I always try to remember is that I don’t know God’s plan for anyone, least of all myself.
God waited patiently for me - waited 43 years - all the time keeping me safe from harm, keeping me alive and safe in spite of my every attempt to kill myself through drugs, car wrecks, smoking and drinking, and just general stupidity. I was bound in a lifestyle of habitual sin and I’m sure many looked at me as an uneducated, disobedient, cafateria Catholic who was not worthy of the sacraments and damned by my own choices, by my own free will, to eternity in Hell. I remember in my mid-20’s, a woman I worked with and one of my former teachers from high school talking about me right in front of me like I wasn’t even there. They were wagging their heads and saying that I might as well just go overdose on drugs right then-and-there because that is what was going to happen eventually anyway and that I was just a waste of life. What they said still hurt, in spite of the drugs.
But God waited patiently for 43 years, slowly getting me to quit drugs and cut my hair, giving me a wife and and children - which I didn’t deserve - and using them to teach me responsiblity. When my daughter died, God gave me a chance to turn to him but I wasn’t ready so he waited patiently for another dozen years while I continued in sin, until the departure of my wife finally broke me and I had no place to go but to God. And the whole time, God kept me safe and out of harms way because he knew that it was just a matter of time. The whole time he called to me, whispered to me, said “Psssst! Over here…”, and slowly changed me, imperceptively, until I was ready. God had a plan which I wasn’t aware of.
When I see “Cafateria Catholics”, I see myself. When I see lukewarm Catholic, I see myself. When I see uncatechized Catholics or people who are addicted to sin or who recieve the Eucharist in a state of sin, I see myself. I try to remember that not long ago, I was exactly like them. And I try to always remember that I don’t know God’s plan for anyone. He could have big plans for that cafateria Catholic, or that sinner, or that sex addict, or that guy who shows up at Mass in bermuda shorts and topsiders. I have no idea when that person is going to be converted. I don’t know God’s plan for anyone, let alone myself.
That’s one of the reasons why I chose St. Augustine as my confirmation saint. He was a drinker and bound by slavery to habitual sexual sin. But God can convert anyone, and we really don’t know who or when it will happen. St. Augustine and I undersand that.
Go easy on the guy in bermuda shorts and topsiders because he may be at Mass to pray to God that he be granted freedom from addiction to porn. Give the guy in a sweatshirt and sneakers a break because he might have just had his frist sober month in many hears and those are all the clothes he owns. Cut the Methodist husband of that Catholic woman a break, because he doesn’t understand - it’s not his fault - and he just might read John 6 one day and suddenly it all makes sense.
Lighten up a little… please. We don’t know God’s plan.
-Tim-
