If we take the time to reflect on the events of our life, we will, in all probability, remember special times of wonder, which I refer to as “graced moments”. Many writers have spoken of these moments in their books and articles, and have usually described them as life changing, or moments of clarity and insight.
I have early memories of grace as a child and I would like to share with you one event that happened when I was nine or ten years old. I recall as vividly as today when it happened. It was early one spring morning after a good night’s sleep. I got up out of bed. No one was around. My parents were about their chores, and my other brothers and sisters were either off doing chores or still sleeping. I stepped out the front door onto the door step of our farm house where I lived.
My mind was still quiet from my sleep. I then experienced a moment of clarity, of awareness, that remains stamped in my memory today. The spring air was very still, and contained a refreshing warmth and fragrance. I could hear the running of the water in the near-by stream that was swelled by spring rains. The swallows were flying around the barns and I could hear the flapping of their wings. For several seconds that seemed much longer, I experienced being suspended in a harmony, a peace, an inner contentment and joy with everything around me. For those few seconds, it was as if time stopped. And I experienced within myself a moment of joy and peacefulness, but not about any particular thing. Beyond the beauty of what I saw and heard and felt, there was something more that cannot be named; something ineffable, something deep, inner, holy. It was a graced moment that still remains vivid in my mind today. It was a gift.
On looking back at the beginnings of my own conversion to Christianity, I am left with many positive memories of this somewhat magical time, and I count my blessings for the love and acceptance that I received during a time which could have been filled with grave concern and division.
I was not raised in any faith practice. In fact, if anything, a belief and dependence on God was looked upon more as a crutch or an escape from reality rather than something of a positive influence. Although these concepts were not strongly enforced in our upbringing, they were nevertheless subtly present, and they were views that I also openly shared during my adolescent years. As not to present my early venturing into adulthood as entirely negative, my parents did instill in me a conviction that all people deserved to be treated respectfully regardless of their station in life, and life on the farm certainly taught by example the need we have for the people around us.
There is a connectiveness among neighbours that is much more evident in a farming community than in the city. And
One is always surprised with those special experiences of life that lead to a conversion of one’s attitudes and beliefs, particularly those that are deeply engrained. This certainly happened to me in relation to matters of faith and faith experience. It came about mostly by observing the faith qualities that I saw in others who became important to me. These faith qualities were not expressed to me, but lived out in their lives in a free and spontaneous manner.
For two years in my late teens and early twenties, while working and studying, I boarded with a family in the South End of Halifax, a Catholic family I grew to love and admire. They were the Clarks. This was perhaps my first exposure to parents who practiced their Catholic faith, and at the same time, did what was necessary to share that faith with their five children. I heard them speak about God to the children in the way that parents would speak to young children. I saw the rushing around on Sunday to prepare five active children for church. I grew in appreciation of their commitment to this task, and I admired their freedom and spontaneity in faith expression that came out in so many subtle little ways in our day-to-day encounters. All in all, I thought, that if a life of faith could make visible such admirable qualities, then something very good has and can happen from living such a life.
I also made good friends with a fellow boarder, Ron, who was in full time attendance at St. Mary’s University. He was my age, and also a Catholic who practiced his faith. His friendship meant a lot to me and I admired his strength of character, his outgoing personality, and his friendly accepting mannerisms. During the day our paths did not cross too much since he was attending university and I was working. But we did meet daily at the important times of sharing meals with the Clarke family. It was in the sharing of meals together that our friendship and mutual respect for each other grew. On Sunday evenings, I noticed that he would often return to the university. After weeks of observing this, I asked him what would be going on at the university on a Sunday evening. He told me that he attends a folk mass there with some of his fellow students. He asked if I would like to come sometime. I accepted his invitation. The folk mass instantly appealed to me with its up-beat music, homilies directed towards young people, and explanations of the liturgy that seemed designed just for me. I experienced the sense of community that existed among these young university students, and enjoyed their friendly and welcoming manners. I felt at home.
At this same time, I began to date a girl who would later become my wife. When Mary Anne finished high school, she had entered the Sisters of Charity at
It was through these initial encounters with faith in action that I began to desire to share in what they had, and through this desire I began to pray for faith. The act of praying would suggest a belief in God. Perhaps faith had already taken birth and I did not realize it. However, after praying for a very short time, faith became real to me and with it a desire to be a part of the Catholic Church. I asked my friend Ron about how to join the Catholic Church. He was excited about the prospect, and introduced me to a priest at the university, a Jesuit by
