Universal Church

For the first fifteen years of my life I was ensconced in the Catholic Church. Being the son of a man who's life was immersed in the church it was inevitable that mine would be also. My life in the church didn't follow my dads fully. He was an alter boy, I never was; he went to all boys Catholic schools, I never did; he was part of the Knights of Columbus, I was out of the church before I got to that stage in life.

I remember Sunday School, Catechism, CCD (not sure what that stood for), my first communion and all that. I was a kid and it bored me but it was what my family did. We were Catholic for crying out loud, what else do you do. The one thing I never really understood was the title Christian. I don't remember it being used much in my childhood. If somebody asked me what religion I was I would answer "Catholic".

Although I don't remember it I was baptised as an infant. As a grade schooler I took my first communion, this I remember. When it came time for my first communion I remember being assigned the task of a greeter. Most kids had to get up in front of everybody and say something or read a scripture. Me and another girl in my class were assigned greeter positions which meant we had to go up and down the aisles and shake hands of the people in the pews and great them in the name of Christ. We had a little pat greeting we were to offer. I don't remember it. What I do recall was how glad I was I didn't have to get up in front of everyone and talk. I must have been really excited about that because I did my greeting job with such passion I was done in seconds. I recall my parents and their friends laughing at the speed in which I completed my task. I didn't drink coffee at that age but I can picture myself all wound up, bustling down the aisle like a squirrel with four shots of espresso in it.

I remember that story being told for years. I wasn't sure if I was to be embarrassed or proud. Oh well, if it gave people a few chuckles and something to talk about I guess I did my job. God has a sense of humor so I'm sure he enjoyed it. He is the one who created the duck-billed platypus after all.

That done, in my progression as a good Catholic was on the right path. Sainthood here I come.

Title Means...

When starting a blog on a popular site like Blogger you need to come up with a unique title that hasn't been used. I am practical and like things with meaning. My other blog, killinggoliath, is a title that I came up with years ago. The meaning behind it is unimportant right now but it does have meaning.

Re-Searching For Jesus came from my desire to tell my story as part of His body. In a sense I feel like I lost Jesus for a while. Not that I didn't believe in him anymore but that I lost what he desires from us. I feel like I became a religious person, not a faithful person.

In every journey there are missteps along the way. Tumbles if you will that make us refocus on the path before us. I feel like I tumbled a ways and need to regain my focus on the path set out before me. Like the poem Footprints that adorns many photos, posters, calendars, postcards, etc. Jesus picked me up for a while. I think I've asked him to set me down and allow me to walk along side him for a bit.

So the Jesus I am re-searching for isn't the Son, Lord and Savior per se, he's not lost and I know where he is, but it's the true meaning behind what Jesus is and left for us to follow that I search for now. He left us a gift and a guide. I long to find the true meaning for this life on earth that Jesus taught to his disciples and how I'm to live it out.

As I write this a beautiful song is playing in the background. It is sung by Kristene Mueller and the words are:

Beautiful Man
beautiful God
You're more than worth my time
You're more than worth these longings of my heart
left unfulfilled
just for a time

beautiful Man
beautiful God
You're more than worth my time
You're more than worth these longings of my heart
left unfulfilled
just for a time

and i know You don't come as easy as some
but i will watch and pray
i will watch and pray


beautiful Man
beautiful God
You're more than worth my time
You're more than worth these longings of my heart
left unfulfilled
just for a time

and i know You don't come as easy as some
but i will watch and pray
i will watch and pray

take it all
take it all
just give me Jesus
just give me Jesus

take it all
take it all
just give me Jesus
just give me Jesus

i don't want any other Lover
i don't want any other Lover

all of my devotion
belongs to this man

Highlights mine.

Amen!

So for now I will record on this blog my story and how I'm Re-Searching For Jesus.

First Memory

I grew up in the Catholic Church. My butt has logged many hours in the hard wooden pews common in the Catholic Church buildings. My earliest church memories are from Our Lady of Loretto in Novato, CA. I remember the pews. The wood. The choir. The fellowship hall. Oh yes, the fellowship hall with its heavy curtains on the stage, the donuts, the monthly pancake breakfast and the endless space for a child to play. The fellowship hall was my favorite place. It is my favorite memory.

Sunday's I would sit in the pew and trace my finger along the grain of the wood pretending there was a car chase; my finger was the car and the wood grain was the road. I couldn't tell you the subject of a single sermon or which passages of scripture that were ever read. Those memories just aren't there. What I can tell you is that we used to play on the stage in the fellowship hall. We would hide, and run, and hide, and play (when I say 'we' I mean me and my brother and sisters). I know there were pastors (Father's) but I can't tell you the name of a single one. What I do know is that there were pancake breakfast's and I loved them. Looked forward to them. Longed for those Sunday's where I could smother some pancakes with berry syrup and drink down the best hot chocolate ever.

This is what I first remember about church.

This is my earliest memory about being part of the Body of Christ.

The fellowship hall.

Running, hiding, playing, and eating. First a little boredom then a little heaven. My earliest memory of church.

Purpose

I am on a journey. I am not alone.

For years I have been a member of the institutional church. I am not now.

Through this blog I am going to recount my history as a follower of Christ from my earliest memories until present day. This is a blog about where I've been and where I am going. I will talk about churches I've been a part of, people I've known, and conversations that I've had. I hope to add to the beauty of life through my story. Not all stories are bright and shiny, not all have happy endings, but it is important that we tell them. This will be part of my story.

First, I must say this, to be clear - I love Jesus. He is my saviour, friend, Lord, and King. He is the Son of God, part of the Trinity and lived on this earth as a man for about 33 years to be killed, buried and raised from the dead. Core!

Second, this is my journey as well as my family's who are critical to my life here on Earth. I love them deeply and want them to grow with me in relationship and fellowship as fellow believers in Christ.

So join me as I journal. Feel free to comment, question, criticize, and pray for me. I'll be open, honest, and free.