Pilgrims Log

I received an email asking F and I how we came to Christ…basically our spiritual journeys. The entry is about mine.

We are both cradle Catholics (don’t you love that expression), Polish (often seen as synonym for Catholic! Catholic! Catholic!), I went to Catholic primary and secondary school and Filip didn’t leave Poland till he was 15. So I think we can safely say that our backgrounds are pretty solidly Catholic. But in my case this didn’t always mean I was extremely reverent or liking of the Catholic Church.

As a child I adored going to school mass which was aimed at us kids…so it was heaps of fun and let us express ourselves and our budding faith in our own childlike ways, but then I became a teenager. Now I didn’t instantly start thinking that the Catholic Church was way outdated, out of touch and perhaps not for me…but by the end of Yr 12 I sure was close. Now, in my defence, our RE classes weren’t exactly relevant and you always got the sense that the teachers didn’t really believe what they were telling us anyway. We did have our shining RE teachers but they were few and far between. Back then (the 90’s…showing my age!) I don’t remember hearing anything about JPII’s theology of the body…which as a teenager, whose brain was obviously curious about the S word, may have been something worth bringing up. But, even though I had developed some very Strong ‘liberal’ opinions on things during High School, i still went to mass regularly (did I mention I’m Polish?) and, on the whole, was really respectful Jesus’ teachings…but thought on some issues i might be more Anglican than Catholic.

I might have continued drifting in this manner if it hadn’t been for one fateful Sunday morning in mid Decemebr 1997. Back then I went to the mass in the Polish church in Maylands. After Mass the youngins’ would stay outside the Church while the oldies’ went to have some tea, coffe, and Polish donuts and other cakes. We were probably a small group (About 8 people) and we just chatted about this and that. On this beautiful sunny December day, one of the members brought a friend, he was tall, had windswept blonde hair and goregeous big blue eyes (not too mention a pair of lips that just seemed to say ‘kiss me!’). Yep, that was my Filip.

Now you may be asking yourself, how is this relevant but just bear with me…

Filip and I hit it off instantly ( I am ridiculously chatty and giggly), and after getting over the initial problem of him thinking I was 15 (yikes!) we were regularly meeting at Church, then we dated and the rest as you could say is history. We got married on April 24 2000. Getting married at 20 (I always say if we got married in March I could say I was 19) was no easy feat. Fil’s parents were all for it, I mean we had been dating for 2 years, it was about time as far as they were concerned. But my folks, needed some convincing. They probably thought I was too young, didn’t know what I was doing etc. But there was no stopping me. I prayed (I think you could say I was a rosaryholic at this time), I fought with my parents and eventually they gave in (with some extra help from Fil’s folks). It was a tough time for me, but I wanted to marry Filip so bad and vice versa that the wedding was a forgone conclusion in our heads. So in the new millennium we started of as husband and wife.

Filip was always far more Catholic than me. His family (A lovely bunch of people) really kept the faith and passed it on to their kids (Filip has a sister 11 years his junior). His father was an altar boy for JPII when he was still an Archbishop in Krakow. In someways I really think sending Filip to me so early (just in case your wondering he was my first boyfriend, kiss, etc.) was God watching out for me.? Without him I don’t know who I would? be…or whether I would like that person. With Filip’s help I stayed close to Catholicism but still had issues with it.

But I think the moment when I really saw the light,was the sad events of April 2005. JPII, our rock, the only pope I had ever known died. Being Polish, I think our sorrow was double, we were losing not only our pope but also a countryman, who kept the country strong and, largerly to his non-violent stand, ensured a peaceful (well as peaceful as you could hope) transition to capitalism from communism. For someone not incredibly Catholic it shocked me how much I mourned his sickness and eventual passing. It was, to use a cliche, like having the rug pulled out from under my feet.

His death made me reassess my position on many things, and with Filip’s help, I came closer and closer to the Church. At the time I lived near UWA so I had the opportunity to go to mass daily in the evening at St. Tommy More, I prayed, I recieved the sacrament of Reconciliation and I enjoyed the loving embrace of my Church…all thanks to JPII. There were also many more personal changes. Filip and I were finally fully united on our faith.

Filip’s story will mention St. Ignatius of Loyola ( the saint who strated the Jesuits), the Spiritual excercise and more, but I will leave him to tell his own story. (Plus this blog entry is already way to long.)

Nowadays, I look back to the months after JPII’s death as a great gift. Since then I sometimes waver in faith (but don’t we all), but overall I stay true to God and Jesus. JPII’s moto “Do no be afraid!” is kind of my life motto, I try to have full faith in God’s will, pray more often to be open to it and to take risks that perhaps I wouldn’t have otherwise…like this pilgrimage and group for instance!

Well that’s my story. To me finding God was unbelievably easy…but I suspect thats a matter of perspective. Whatever sacrifices i made in my journey, or battles i had to fight, I just don’t see as such. God was always there for me..he was just waiting for me to see him…and opeing your eyes can be so easy sometimes.

K.