Before I write on my post-race thoughts and plans, I would to take a minute to talk about the elephant in the room.
What is it like as a Catholic missionary working for a Protestant organization?
Well, put simply…
It is very hard. And it is very beautiful.
I’m a bad news first, good news second kinda girl so let’s start with why it’s hard.
The theological differences will come for you. You’ll have hard discussions that will eventually run out of answers. And doubly hard when you’re one Catholic in a group of 30. I was lucky enough to be one of 2 but that is very rarely the case. Sometimes hosts will reject or criticize you. Getting to mass on Sundays can be the fight of your life whether it’s finding time in between your 3 ministry related services, explaining to your host why you have to go and hoping they don’t flip out, finding actual mass times in countries that put NOTHING online, trying to find an evening mass when you traveled on a Sunday, trying to rally someone to go with you when it’s a pain in the ass to get there, or even just figuring out how to get there in general. At one location, I had to walk a mile to the bus stop, take a 30 minute bus into town, walk to the church, and then grab a bus back and walk the mile again to make it back for the ministry service AND I had to drag one of my poor teammates through all of that with me. Then there are those delightful forks in the road in ministry where you’re asked a question and you both have very different answers. (The amount of times we were asked if you can lose your salvation was un. real.). You’ll be told you’re not a Christian by people you meet. You’ll be told all of the reasons you shouldn’t be Catholic based on people’s misconceptions of church teaching. And then there are the really hard moments… when the conflict is within your team. Your family. Those moments when you feel completely alone and like your back is against the wall.
But don’t be discouraged… because here comes the beautiful.
Those hard conversations gave birth to patience and understanding. Where Christians of all denominations meet in the fact that their love for Jesus surpasses all differences. Opportunities abound to be able to clear up those misconceptions and be the face of the Church alive! It also taught me about humility. About dropping my defenses and believing that people weren’t out to get me, they were out to love me. I watched time and time again as my teammates stepped up for me. It didn’t matter that we disagreed, all that mattered was that they loved me. They walked that mile and took that bus with me. They ran around new cities fresh of a long bus trip to help me find mass. They served alongside me in convents and friaries. Asked questions. Loved me. Grew me. Challenged me. I saw hearts, mine included, change as struggle transformed to unity. Abby (the other Catholic racer and fellow Franciscan alum) and I were moved to tears when our whole squad chose to join us at mass one Sunday in a show of love and support.
So yes. It is definitely difficult to be a Catholic racer, but it is also completely worth it.
