Evoke

This photo passage could be the beginning of a book of memories and stories. I stopped today at noon at St. Francis Xavier parish to hopefully get into this old church. Here seeded another catholic nun-educated, papacy-conflicted, ritual loving person. But this lovely dark mystery shrouded church captures what holds so many to such memory and maybe some kind of practice too. My school there also stands and is in use today. Again memories surface of having to stay late for not coloring my turkey feathers right in kindergarten, to being teased on the playground for my name Mike.

I made my first confession in this church, went to mass with my family, received first holy communion and thus was ushered into the mystery and pull of RC practice, despite the issues that are more than alive and in my book hugely destructive. But the pull of the ritual is there nonetheless.

A dear elder priest, a Jesuit, said a short mass for which I happened to time my arrival perfectly. All kinds of feelings washed over and through me. I thought of all the beautiful churches I have been in around the US and Europe, and how often I found myself moved in spite of conflict with the Vatican and the decisions and practices that follow from that "voice on high". It is so too bad.

We moved east when I was 8. One day I will visit St Louis parish mid-way between D.C. and Baltimore, and mine those memories too. I do believe that I saw my 7 year old grinning face in the one First Holy Communion picture that is on the wall as you go I to this lovely mission style church!