“Catholic is the same as Christian, right mom?”
I stopped spreading peanut butter on the bread for the girls’ sandwiches and looked up at Libby. “That’s an interesting question, what exactly are you asking?”
I could have said a simple “yes” and let it go, but I wanted to know what was behind the question.
“Well, my new friend from school said she can come to my cookie party and she asked who else was coming, so I told her some friends from church. She asked which church, and when I told her, she said she was Catholic. She seemed uneasy that my church isn’t a Catholic church. I am worried she won’t feel like she belongs.”
And there it is, straight from the mouth of my 13-year-old daughter, who is navigating the worst space in the world: middle school dynamics. Being a “Christian” in this setting has provoked a profound fear of judgement and exclusion.
I told Libby that her friends belong at the party table because she has invited them. Her invitation alone says you belong at my party, regardless of what you believe.
I asked her what she’d told her school friend about our church. “Well, I just told her that I really like it and we talk about Jesus and how much He loves us and how to love others well.”
“What did she say to that?” I asked, while spreading jam on the bread.
“Oh, she is cool with Jesus.”
When I was a little younger than Libby, we moved to Phoenix, Arizona and started attending a conservative “Bible” church. I remember there were a lot of changes that came to our home. I couldn’t wear jeans to church anymore, only skirts or dresses. Stricter rules were placed on TV and music and my brother and I were enrolled in the local Christian Reformed grade school. My parents got really involved in church and learned about “sharing their faith” and “giving people the gospel.”
Eventually, they shared their new-found faith with their oldest friends, who we referred to as Aunt and Uncle. Their daughter was my best friend, and we’d spend hours building Barbie villages in the oleander bushes next to her back porch. These friends were like family, and they were Catholic. There was no room in the teaching my parents were receiving for Catholic and Christian to coexist. The parameters for belonging inside the Christian circle were tight and clear, and years of friendship tragically ended in the name of “giving them the gospel.”
Today we have new tightness dividing us in the name of right doctrine, biblically grounded theology, and protecting the integrity of the gospel. You may or may not belong based on what you believe about a myriad of things: a literal seven-day creation, speaking in tongues, Republican vs Democrat, divorce, women in church leadership, LGBTQ believers in Jesus, same-sex marriage, and the second coming of Christ. The list goes on and on.
When Libby asked me her question, I must tell you that I loved it because it meant she didn’t know the answer. She hasn’t been taught that Catholics don’t belong. Progress!
Nearly 35 years after that fateful evening when my parents walked out of my “Aunt and Uncle’s” home with a broken friendship, they ran into them and set up a dinner date. My mom and dad had the chance to apologize and ask their forgiveness. With tremendous generosity, they forgave my mom and dad and the relationship was restored.
I believe we are watching the start of a reformation. Five hundred years ago, Martin Luther nailed his complaints to the church door about how they’d lost sight of the gospel in exchange for meritocracy and hierarchy. It was the beginning of change and a return to simplicity.
I want to live a reformation life, one in which I’m willing to change and to notice when something other than the simplicity of the gospel is ruling my life.
I believe this kind of life is nurtured by lengthening my table, pulling up more chairs, and inviting others to the party. You belong for the same reason I belong: Jesus invited us…all of us.
Tracy Johnson is a lover of stories and a reluctant dreamer, living by faith that “Hope deferred makes the heart sick but when dreams come true there is a life and joy” (Pro. 13:12). She is the Founder of Red Tent Living. Married for 30 years, she is mother to five kids. After a half century of life, she’s feeling like she may know who she is. She writes about her life and her work here.
Dear Tracy, wow…wow. I grew up in a “Catholic” neighborhood. My parents got a bit nervous when we would play school with friends and call the teacher “sister.” We moved soon after that and I missed my neighborhood friends. That was sixty years ago. I cringe often with well intentioned Christians that share their faith in a pushy way…Your writing causes me to pause and wonder how often I have offended people with my faith. I hope that Libby’s friend comes to her party and I love that your parents apologized after 35 years. That is hopeful and stunning. I loved how you ended: “I believe this kind of life is nurtured by lengthening my table, pulling up more chairs, and inviting others to the party. You belong for the same reason I belong: Jesus invited us…all of us.” So good. We all need one another.
Thank you.
I too cringe when I think back on how I engaged people in the past, much to grieve there for sure. I love my parents story with those dear friends and the hope it invites and inspires. It is good to be at the table with you Becky 😉
So significant as we prepare for a middle school move. I love the reality of moving from a house of fear to a house of love.
House of fear to house of love…perfect metaphor. Thank you Joanna.
Beyonce’s “Formation” was playing in my mind while I read this. I like the idea of a Reformation table. Thank you for sharing so clearly and powerfully. Your essay is beautiful and inspiring!
Well being in the same moment with Beyonce in your mind makes me smile for sure! You are a reformation woman Kelsi and it is a joy to be at the table with you.
May God’s goodness be abundant as Libby’s friends gather at the table.
Thanks Jaimi, I am hopeful for the time and what it will hold for everyone.
As a Catholic I do not think she was “uneasy bc your child was not Catholic,” she was probably “uneasy bc she was a Catholic.” I have been told, “I could not be socialized with, bc of my Church, but I could be talked to with respect and treated civilly.” Thank you very much but no thank you!
I am sent to hell at least once a week, called an idol worshipper, that I worship another Jesus, that my Church is the Whore of Babylon, that Jesus is going to say, “He never knew me,” The list is unending.
A lot of Catholics shy away from others, and “stick with our own,” bc to be persecuted all the time gets a little tiring. With me it brings forth a lot of anger.
I converted to the Church 13 years ago, and I was never persecuted until I became a Catholic. I must say, in my entire life a Catholic never persecuted me bc I was a Protestant.
I hope the little girl comes and your daughter sounds wonderful. God Bless, SR
SR I am so grieved as I read your words, they convey a pain that is searing and deep. When God’s children bite and devour one another with judgement and accusation it is a terrible thing. I am glad you have found your way to our Red Tent community and thank you for being courageous enough to share some of your story in your comments. You are welcome here and I hope you will find the space we are creating to be welcoming and warm for your weary and hurt heart. Warmly, Tracy
I personally have a strong belief in the ideals of the Protestant Reformation. I do not however believe that Catholics should be hated or shunned. I often communicate with them from time to time, but I do not discuss doctrinal differences unless questioned. Often I have found myself speaking to them upon subjects which we can agree upon. I am fairly convinced that there are most conscientious Christians within Catholicism. I tend to believe that God has true followers in just about every denomination.