My "Universal" Family

I resisted the urge to tag this post with something like outer space, extraterrestrial, or aliens, although it would have been funny. On the other hand, it may have brought some traffic I didn't want. When I say I have a universal family I mean it.

If you look up the word "universal", you might get a definition like this: Of, affecting, or done by all people or things in the world or in a particular group. You will also see that one of the synonyms for universal is catholic. That is what I am talking about. I belong to the universal or Catholic Church, and my family includes over a billion people at any given time.

My exposure to my "family" was for a long time limited to the people I knew in my parish, relatives and maybe a few others I might encounter along the way. On a few occasions I would be made aware of our universality: attending Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York, a retreat at Christian Brothers University with our youth or watching the coverage of John Paul II's visit to the U.S.

About six years ago, I discovered a new way to connect with my family: Catholic media. I started listening to the Catholic Channel on XM. I connected with people on Facebook and Twitter though one of the shows on the channel. I joined Facebook prayer groups. All of a sudden, I have a network of people outside of my local parish to share my faith with and it is awesome. They keep me accountable, they make me laugh, and they share my triumphs and sorrows.

Two years ago, my husband and I visited Rome for our 30th anniversary. Seeing the streets where Peter and Paul walked; visiting St. John Lateran, the church where Christians were first legally able to worship and taking the Vatican tour to see the Sistine Chapel strengthened my faith in ways I cannot describe. When we visited St. Peter's Basilica, I was amazed and overwhelmed by it. To think we stood within feet of where Peter is buried left me speechless. As someone aptly put it, "Rome is every Catholic's hometown."

We attended Mass in a minor basilica called St. Mary of the Angels and Martyrs near our hotel. The Mass was in Italian, but I understood it nonetheless. I knew exactly where we were during the Mass. Overwhelmed, tears came to my eyes during the Eucharist, as I realized in a few hours, my fellow parishioners in my little parish in Mississippi would be doing the same thing - hearing the same readings, and receiving Jesus as I did.

My "family" all comes from different places, we are different ages, we have different vocations, and we may even speak different languages, but we have one thing in common: we all belong to that universal Church and share Jesus at every Mass.