Saturday, November 6, 2010

What Keeps Me Rolling - Or At Least Upright (most of the time)



So for those of you who know me, you know that  I converted to Catholicism in college.   Some of my big influences during the time of my coversion were one of my fellow RA's (whose name I can't remember but who who I used to tag along with every Sunday), John (the owner of Mustang Donuts where I worked part time)

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and my friend and fellow SMU dancer Michael Shef who faithfully attended with me as I was trying to figure out what all these words were about.  He was really a great example and one of the first New York Catholics I'd ever met - thanks for the guidance Mike!  These three were really the ones who encouraged me in my quest to become Catholic and this trio, along with Father Michael Duca of the SMU Catholic Campus Ministry, were intstrumental in my journey as a catechumen.

While at SMU at learned all about the Jesuit form of Catholicism and that philosphy, coupled with the all accepting college mentality, formed my ideas of my religion.  When I moved to New York City I was lucky to find a similar atmosphere when I joined the congregation of St. Malachy's otherwise known as "The Actor's Chapel".  Again, a community of people who believed in a liberal form of catholicism that encouraged love and acceptance.

However, when we moved out to Long Island we found that the Rockville Center Diocese was a little less than liberal and each of the various congregations I was able to find out here never has felt like home.  Although Father Kelly (the priest who baptised our daughter Sarah at St. Malachy's) also serves the community of Rocky Point, its a bit of a haul.  And its really sad because I have a Catholic church that is literally a baseball's throw (and for any of you that remember me from my Ansbach High School days, you'll remember that I had a pretty good arm as a center fielder so I can throw - I just couldn't hit worth beans, it was long before I realized I needed glasses, not that it would have likely made a difference, but I'm getting off task again aren't I?) from my front yard.  Yes, we go as a family on Christmas Eve and Easter but on a persoanl level I like to go to feel a connection with something bigger than myself but I never feel like the church is "Home".

So I have come to the conclusion that I am Spiritual but I'm not Religious.  I believe in ALMOST all of the precepts of Catholicism but I can't bring myself to doom people to an afterlife of purgatory becuase they love someone the church tells them they shouldn't.  Nor can I bring myself to condemn women for decisions they make with their own bodies or damn people that take precautions (whether married or unmarried) to ensure that women don't have to make those decisions in the first place.  If I blindly followed all the precepts of the church I wouldn't have my three incredibly bright, beautiful and intelligent children who were conceived with the aid of science - a science the church officially does not condone.

I'm reminded of the advice given to me by John who was one of my sponsors as I went through the catechumen process.  John had been educated at The University of Notre Dame and was one of the most religious adult catholics I knew (aside from my parents).  He and his wife Mary would almost never work on Sunday mornings unless they had gone to mass the night before.  Anyway, I voiced my concerns to John about a month before I was to be baptised and he shared with me advice that a Priest at Notre Dame had given him when he voiced similar concerns, "The Pope is the leader of the church but he is still human and he has to guide millions of people from hundreds of cultures and thousands of backgrounds.  All he can do is to give general guidance for the whole church.  The most important thing to do is to listen to that small quiet voice inside of you that will guide you to what is right and what is wrong.  If you listen to it and access it through your beliefs then everything will work out, its only when you no longer hear that small quiet voice that you need to worry."  It took me years to understand that accessing that small quiet voice is what we call prayer, honest true prayer not the bargaining with God prayer that is really just designed to get our butt out of a sling.  I try to do that on a daily basis, using prayer to ask for guidance, strength, wisdom, patience and occasionally to help me deal with the rest of the human race.

Yet sometimes that's not enough.  As my incredibly patient wife Amy (and now my children whom she encourages to poke fun at me) can attest, I have a variety of superstitions.  Many of them don't always work - my biggest being not washing my Dallas Cowboys jersey after they win a game until they lose one, needless to say my jersey has been incredibly clean this year - I may take to wearing all black instead every Sunday for all the good my jersey has done this year.

Of all my rituals perhaps some of my cycling rituals are the most laughable - at least from her standpoint.  I always put on my Lance Armstrong II cycling shoes on the same exact way - the right foot first becuase that's the one with the Texas flag.  I like my water bottles to match.  They don't have to be great ones, I just like them to match or I'll only use one.  And I have to wear my Madonna del Ghisallo medal.  One of the things that my spirituality gives me (you knew that whole preamble about religion had to somehow relate to cycling) is the belief that we can commune with the saints.  Many of the world religions believe in benevolent spirits of our ancestors that hear us and help us in times of need and many of them believe in the power of intercession with these spirits.  A large part of my spirituality truly believes that there are spirits amongst us that hear us and protect us from the stupid things we do in life.  I honestly believe there are guardian angels and others that divert really bad things from happening to us sometimes, at least to me.  I'm not sure why they keep saving my butt but I know beyond a doubt that they have on numerous occasions.

But back to the medal.  Who is the Madonna del Ghisallo?  She is the patron saint of cycling and I have a silver religious medal of her that I had blessed by a priest and I wear next to my crucifix every time I ride.  I had her with me the day of my accident on July 11th and I truly believe that without her I probably would have lost an arm or worse in that accident.

I always put her on around my neck when I get ready to go and she definitely saved my tail on numerous occasions, including TWICE today!  Once when I was in Huntington on my training ride and as I was riding "as far right as is practicable" on the side of the road past a long line of stopped cars when suddenly a car decided it needed to parallel park and turned right into my path.  Something in me allowed me to stop and he stopped his car and I rode on.

Then later, as I was almost home an elderly woman almost "t-boned" me as I was going through an intersection.  I guess she just decided she was faster than me (not to be confused with those who think they're cooler than me) and she was going to make that turn.  Fortunately I screamed loudly enough that it scared the bejeezus out of her (or maybe just soiled her Depends) and she stopped while I passed unscathed about two feet in front of her car.

And I owe it all to the medallion I wear around my neck, which looks like this;

I really believe (in my superstition addled mind) that it is becuase of this divine intervention that I have survived and stayed upright on my bicycle for as long as I have.  As I write this, I have logged a little over 2400 miles of riding this year and my goal is to get as close to 3600 as I can (the distance it would be if I could ever do my cross country ride for Sunrise).  With a little luck, health, and some more intercession, I may just make it!
And I will see you, my friends (and our blessed Madonna del Ghisallo), on the road!

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