W
Wowbagger
Guest
(1) Don’t marry her if she isn’t on board with the whole Catholic project.
(2) Don’t break up with her without giving her every chance, every reason, and all the time she needs to get on board with the whole Catholic project.
(3) There is no rush.
I dated a Catholic girl for some time (quite a bit longer than you have been, so your position may not be the same as mine), and it gradually became clear that she was not in the same relationship with the Church as I was. When that became clear, I gave the relationship a little bit more time (a couple of months, to be exact), just enjoying her company and discerning whether this was a relationship that was worth pursuing, even though it would be difficult. I invited her to Mass several times during that period, rooting our relationship more heavily in our common Catholicism. I had fallen in love with her and said so.
Then, when I was sure I did think she was worth it, I raised the issue in conversation with her. After asking some questions and expressing that I loved her and wanted to pursue this relationship with an eye towards perhaps getting married later on, I pointed out that our different positions with respect to the Church were a serious obstacle. Obviously, we couldn’t get married if we couldn’t agree on what it even means to be a Catholic, because how could we raise kids? How could we even have kids, if we disagreed on the NFP/contraception issue? I finished by telling her (again) how much I loved her, and that I thought this was a serious relationship very much worth pursuing. I suggested that we really had two options: if we both agreed that it was worth it, we could try to talk things out in a series of serious conversations about this stuff. That was what I favored. Talking, I admitted, was a huge risk, because if we couldn’t ultimately find a way to agree, we would have no way forward as a couple, and we’d have to end it. And, because we are both smart, young, passionate Catholics with strong convictions, there was a very strong chance that we would not be able to find agreement. I promised I would still respect her if that happened, because, ultimately, she has to follow her conscience, but, for the reasons I’d already stated, it would mean the end of us as a couple. But it was better than the alternative, I thought, because the alternative was ending things now, before it got difficult.
This initial conversation, raising my concerns, was the hardest part of the whole process. Critically, though, she understood where I was coming from, and did not (as I feared) think of me as using our relationship to bludgeon her into the Faith. She saw the problem, she understood that it would have to be overcome or we would have to break up. In fact, she’d seen the same problem on some level and, like me, hadn’t known how to bring it up, and dreaded it. I told her that she didn’t need to decide what to do right away, and said that in two weeks we’d talk again, and that would give her time to make a decision: risk the conversations, or break up immediately. Rushing her into a conversation (as others on this thread have suggested) and rushing to a conclusion could only lead to bad listening, emotional unpreparedness, and bad decision-making on a thousand different fronts.
Two weeks later, in an equally moving conversation, she chose to risk the serious conversations. For the next year, we had a lengthy, difficult conversation every three weeks, in which we discussed everything. We started with the origins and authority of the Church, then moved through the sexual issues (masturbation, pornography, contraception, homosexuality). I discovered (slowly) that it was even more important to ask questions and understand what she believed and why than it was to preach the usual talking points at her. Once I understood where she was coming from, in specific and great detail, then I could compose the Catholic response to her. She felt listened to, and I was able to respond to her much more effectively.
In the lulls between conversations, I read voraciously. I knew most of the teachings fairly well, of course, but I redoubled my efforts. I reread Mere Christianity, discovered Weigel’s Letters to a Young Catholic (both of which I asked her to read, sort of as “homework”, making it clear that I was open to doing the same for her), and spent days reading and writing about and just generally poring over Chris West’s books on sex and the Theology of the Body. And praying. Oh, so much praying. We were both praying for each other and ourselves, a very great deal.
And, between conversations, we recuperated by living our dating life perfectly normally, with movies and dinners and spending time with other friends, and not mentioning the serious conversations at all outside of when we were actually having them.
[CONTINUED]
(2) Don’t break up with her without giving her every chance, every reason, and all the time she needs to get on board with the whole Catholic project.
(3) There is no rush.
I dated a Catholic girl for some time (quite a bit longer than you have been, so your position may not be the same as mine), and it gradually became clear that she was not in the same relationship with the Church as I was. When that became clear, I gave the relationship a little bit more time (a couple of months, to be exact), just enjoying her company and discerning whether this was a relationship that was worth pursuing, even though it would be difficult. I invited her to Mass several times during that period, rooting our relationship more heavily in our common Catholicism. I had fallen in love with her and said so.
Then, when I was sure I did think she was worth it, I raised the issue in conversation with her. After asking some questions and expressing that I loved her and wanted to pursue this relationship with an eye towards perhaps getting married later on, I pointed out that our different positions with respect to the Church were a serious obstacle. Obviously, we couldn’t get married if we couldn’t agree on what it even means to be a Catholic, because how could we raise kids? How could we even have kids, if we disagreed on the NFP/contraception issue? I finished by telling her (again) how much I loved her, and that I thought this was a serious relationship very much worth pursuing. I suggested that we really had two options: if we both agreed that it was worth it, we could try to talk things out in a series of serious conversations about this stuff. That was what I favored. Talking, I admitted, was a huge risk, because if we couldn’t ultimately find a way to agree, we would have no way forward as a couple, and we’d have to end it. And, because we are both smart, young, passionate Catholics with strong convictions, there was a very strong chance that we would not be able to find agreement. I promised I would still respect her if that happened, because, ultimately, she has to follow her conscience, but, for the reasons I’d already stated, it would mean the end of us as a couple. But it was better than the alternative, I thought, because the alternative was ending things now, before it got difficult.
This initial conversation, raising my concerns, was the hardest part of the whole process. Critically, though, she understood where I was coming from, and did not (as I feared) think of me as using our relationship to bludgeon her into the Faith. She saw the problem, she understood that it would have to be overcome or we would have to break up. In fact, she’d seen the same problem on some level and, like me, hadn’t known how to bring it up, and dreaded it. I told her that she didn’t need to decide what to do right away, and said that in two weeks we’d talk again, and that would give her time to make a decision: risk the conversations, or break up immediately. Rushing her into a conversation (as others on this thread have suggested) and rushing to a conclusion could only lead to bad listening, emotional unpreparedness, and bad decision-making on a thousand different fronts.
Two weeks later, in an equally moving conversation, she chose to risk the serious conversations. For the next year, we had a lengthy, difficult conversation every three weeks, in which we discussed everything. We started with the origins and authority of the Church, then moved through the sexual issues (masturbation, pornography, contraception, homosexuality). I discovered (slowly) that it was even more important to ask questions and understand what she believed and why than it was to preach the usual talking points at her. Once I understood where she was coming from, in specific and great detail, then I could compose the Catholic response to her. She felt listened to, and I was able to respond to her much more effectively.
In the lulls between conversations, I read voraciously. I knew most of the teachings fairly well, of course, but I redoubled my efforts. I reread Mere Christianity, discovered Weigel’s Letters to a Young Catholic (both of which I asked her to read, sort of as “homework”, making it clear that I was open to doing the same for her), and spent days reading and writing about and just generally poring over Chris West’s books on sex and the Theology of the Body. And praying. Oh, so much praying. We were both praying for each other and ourselves, a very great deal.
And, between conversations, we recuperated by living our dating life perfectly normally, with movies and dinners and spending time with other friends, and not mentioning the serious conversations at all outside of when we were actually having them.
[CONTINUED]
God Bless you. Even in length you said exactly what I wanted to, only much more eloquently.