So You're a "Person of Faith" and "PRO-Choice"? Really? Which Faith?

“There are two births of Christ. One unto this world in Bethlehem, the other in the soul when it is spiritually reborn…both result from a kind of Divine invasion” (Ven. Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen (1).
It was a warm summer morning on that Sunday in June, as I rambled up Pearl St. toting my meters and tools. For a Communications Tech., working the occasional Sunday was “a part of the job”, but usually there weren’t many calls to cover, as most our Manhattan business customers were normally closed or had skeleton crews assigned on the weekends, and still many others had not yet returned to the Downtown area. Most importantly, of course, I could still make it to Mass, as a Catholic Church was always within a short distance from anywhere that I might find myself working.
After completing my first job, I’d called my Dispatcher and been told that there were no other jobs awaiting pickup at that time. Knowing then that there was no one waiting for me, I might have enjoyed the break and my morning walk in the sun, as I had on countless other days passed. However, on that Forenoon of St. Ephraim’s Day, the 9th of June, 2002, my mind was opaque, my thoughts were somber, my spirit was forlorn and no amount of sunlight would do to warm the bitter coldness that I held within my fractured heart. For as I trekked northward on Pearl St., right along with my tools, I also carried soul searing images of the 9/11 Attack and an agonizing array of bitter emotions brought on by the loss of my Cousin Denis and all the other dear people who had perished on that horrific day.
As it was then, just before 11a.m., I allowed my “Catholic Instincts” to take over and onward they lead me toward Barclay St. and to the Mass at St. Peter’s. Dear Ole’ St. Peter’s, dedicated to the “Prince of the Apostles”, “the Rock upon which Our Lord had built His Church” (St. Matthew 16:18) and the central place of worship within the very heart of oldest Parish in New York. In the original Church of St. Peter, built back in 1785, one might say that the Holy Spirit had conceived to grant “a rebirth to the Faith” here in “the Empire City.” On Sunday mornings, in our present-day sanctuary, our Denis had faithfully served as a Minister of the Holy Eucharist. On 9/11, Denis “laid down his life for his friends” (St. John 15:13). Arriving at St. Peter’s, I climbed her familiar stone steps, but found to my disappointment, that despite her doors being open, that no 11 o’clock Mass would be offered that morning. No lights shone from within her interior, but the Paschal candle and the one directly above the Baptismal Font.
Crestfallen, I turned to go in search of another Mass. But then, a sudden “inspiration” arose from somewhere deep inside of me and “told” me to stay. Startled, I heeded its prompting and went inside to pray. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to the only light shining at the front, the one above St. Joseph’s Altar, which brightly illumined the Baptismal Font. There, I saw Fr. Madigan with Prayer Book in hand; standing together with a couple and their child, the young mother lovingly cradling her infant son, as his father proudly looked on. So, I slipped into a rear pew as silently as I could and felt my jaw unclench and my lips involuntarily smile as I did. As if compelled by an unseen force, I then knelt to watch this dear little child welcomed into God’s family; and though I could not clearly hear the words of the Pastor from the back of the Church, I watched his movements carefully and so followed along. As I prayerfully observed, Father poured the water over and then anointed the child, while Our Infant Lord, St. Joseph, and the Blessed Virgin looked on. Then, I instantly recalled what the great Archbishop Sheen had said about Christmas and how Christ in a soul is reborn. This time, I heard Father Madigan plainly declare to the boy, “…now you have become a new creation…” and the peace that had come into my heart made me think that Bishop Sheen might consider me one too…I’d like be able to tell you that it all changed there, but my real journey back had only just begun.
After being reborn, my spirit had to re-learn to crawl again, and I came understand that were I to be Our Lord’s true disciple, I needed to accept, take up and carry my cross (St. Luke 14:27). It’s now been some years, but I often look gratefully back to that day and I’m deeply thankful for St. Peter’s Church, that little child and the Spirit that made me stay. In the words of the great St. Ephraim, on who’s Feast Day it happened: “On a certain day a pearl did I take up, my brethren; I saw in it mysteries pertaining to the Kingdom; semblances and types of the Majesty; it became a fountain, and I drank out of it mysteries of the Son” (2). If you take nothing else away from this experience of mine, just remember you can always “Come Home for Christmas” even on a warm summer day.
References-
(1) Ven. Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen, (1966), “Christmas Inspirations”, 2nd Edition, Maco Publishing Inc.
(2) St. Ephraim of Syria, (2009), “The Pearl”: Seven Hymns on the Faith, Hymn 1, http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3705.htm