Slow awakening...

"But why do we have to go to Church?? It's boooooringggggg"
"Come on now, we're going to be late. Get your coat on!"
"How come Eddie doesn't have to go?"
"..."


This was a frequent conversation between my mum and me from when I was about nine to about twelve, though perhaps they stopped a little earlier or later. I then heard my mum have the same conversation with my younger brother, as he reached that age. I think it lasted a little longer for him, though.
But it was a mélange of reasons why this conversation stopped, and why I started liking going to Church, and this started the ball rolling to where I am now, and hopefully keep going until the day I die. First of all, I began to develop an interest in languages, and particularly in the roots of words. Now, in terms of English as a Germanic language, the resources are lacking. Sure, I can compare English with the other Germanic languages, which includes German, but comparing them with the "parent language" was much more difficult. So I found that it was much easier to investigate the Romance languages, and this was much more interesting, for there was still a huge corpus of Latin, which I considered the "parent language" of French, Italian, Spanish, etc. Therefore, I would write tables and tables of comparisons of various words; lists and lists of the stuff. I began to investigate why Latin was so inflected in comparison with the Romance languages of today, etc.
I became hungrier and hungrier for texts for comparison. The delight I had in finding out that the reason "factum" was "hecho" in Spanish, "fatto" in Italian and "fait" in French was similar to "ocho" "otto" and "huit" coming from octo (I'm simplifying things here, obviously). Now, where else was a better place to find texts for comparison than prayers! The number of times I wrote out Pater Noster, Padre nuestro, Notre Père, etc, you wouldn't believe. It was the same with the Credo. And the Hail Mary. And the Angelus....
Now, my skills for searching things on the internet were still limited at the time, and so I found it difficult to find some of these texts. Furthermore, by writing these comparisons, my interest in learning Latin grew ever greater (I've still not satisfied this yet). So I asked my gran about the "Latin Mass". She always said it was more beautiful, and I had the impression that if she knew about one nearby, she'd be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.
So she searched in her wardrobe and in her chest of drawers until she found a missal from 1942. It's like some ancient relic, where the pages are extremely fragile (indeed, a lot of the important pages are missing unfortunately, probably from overuse). I loved it, but at the same time hated the fact that I couldn't use it.
So as time went by, my internet searching skills grew and I found ways of watching the mass of 1962 online (there were some differences between the 1962 mass and the missal I have). But generally, I realised that there was a lot more to this church business than just going along every Sunday. So over the past four years I've been ever so slowly learning more and more about the faith. Just within the last two and a half months I've learnt loads, since I'm on my own a lot more and spend far too much time reading blogs and stuff. Furthermore, here in Nantes they have an FSSP church where I could go to daily TLM if I wanted too. Unfortunately, I'm too lazy to motivate myself to go every day, but I have made the effort. I also go to confession a lot more frequently here. I'd been slowly increasing my frequency to go to confession over the last two years when I discovered a weekly confession slot in the centre of Edinburgh. My local parish only offered it on Saturday mornings, and there was no confessional, so it was often too much of a chat and not enough penitential confession.
Basically, my interest in languages (a gift from God) lead me to be more interested in my faith. And my gran fostered that faith with discussions. Not high level theological discussions (which I like) but with simple devotional discussions and how God's providence has enabled her to carry the crosses in her life - in short, how God is good.

Birth-again-day

Twenty years ago today I was baptised in St Winefride's Church in Neston, England. I'd never given the day much thought previously, but now I'd like to thank God for this wonderful grace and sacrament.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, ...

... and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen

As we approach the end of All Souls' week, I've actually spent a very strange week, but one realising how important this week is, even though in previous years it went by me virtually unnoticed. It's only recently that I've understood the doctrines of Purgatory and of Indulgences in any sort of way. They are still a deep mystery, but nevertheless they give me great joy and hope. Both are examples of God's great mercy, that he grants us a way of entering heaven even though are souls aren't spotless when we die. Indulgences are also a way for us to extend our charitable mission to the souls in Purgatory.

At my most recent confession, the priest (in very rapid French so I may have missed some of what he said) explained that obtaining a plenary indulgence for a soul in purgatory, who can no longer merit, has a twofold effect. First of all, by the good work done for the indulgence, along with the necessary conditions, allows the merit to be applied to the soul in purgatory, thus allowing them (if a plenary indulgence) to enter into the beatific vision. Then, you now have a friend in heaven who will undoubtedly intercede for you before the Lord, as you did for the soul.

Anyway, let us keep praying for our deceased brethren especially this month, but that doesn't mean forget them throughout the rest of the year. Have masses said for your deceased loved ones, pray for those people you read in newspapers, for those who die in any conflicts, for all those who have no one to pray for them specifically, and build up friends in heaven.