Perfect Flowers and Perfect Catholics

BY KIERSTIN RICHTER

The picture below depicts me in one of my favorite hoodies from college: an $18 baja pullover from a gas station in Greenwood, Louisiana. I wore it to most classes, most parties, music festivals (like the one below). The only drawback was when I wore it, I was asked more frequently if I was in possession of any magic mushrooms. (And to their disappointment, the answer was always no).

I remember wearing this hoodie as I sat waiting for a FOCUS session to start on “Catholics and the Environment.” I looked at the group of girls sitting across from me waiting for Emily Wilson’s talk, and they were dressed in cute midi dresses and trendy blue light glasses, and toted their Blessed is She Bibles in cute little tote bags. They seemed to be perfectly fashionable, perfectly modest, and all encompassing of what I would imagine a Catholic cover-girl would look like. The kind of girls that were engaged by senior year of college and had a pretty good plan of what post-grad life would look like.

I wondered if I was doing this whole “Catholic” thing right. Should I be dressing like those girls? Should I actually be leading a bible study? Should I be posting more “Catholic” related posts on Instagram rather than music festivals and parties? Was I being hypocritical? Or was I just being myself? And was that enough?

My friend group frequented more music festivals and house parties than anything else. I spent more time in the politically angtsy student media suite than the Newman Center. I felt a little too religious for the non-religious and too “spiritual but not quite religious enough” for the church crowd.

It wasn’t that I felt rejected or judged, I just didn’t feel like I totally fit in with the campus ministry. My faith was much more rooted in going to Mass alone outside of town as a personal retreat than it was as part of a social network.

But as I prayed about it, I found the superficials don’t matter. It doesn’t matter where you shop or how your home looks or what kind of music you listen to. (Although they can affect your mindset).

Simply put, to be Catholic is to be a safe space for others. A helping hand, an understanding ear, a compassionate disposition. Being Catholic means sitting on the side of suffering. It means cultivating humility and patience and allowing your struggles to sanctify you. Being Catholic means cultivating a presence of peace and letting your heart swell with the love of Christ, and allowing it to overflow.

If you think being “the perfect Catholic” is having the perfect family or the perfect style or the perfect veil, don’t worry, Jesus didn’t feel like he fit in much either.

As Saint Therese of Lisieux once said, “The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm.” Like all the little flowers are different, so are we. There’s no one “way” to be Catholic. We have saints that were total hippies like Saint Francis of Assisi, or mothers like Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, or rogue queens like Saint Olga of Kiev.

Just like there’s no “best” flower, there is no “best” Catholic. All of us, children in Christ, and children of love, look a little different, sound a little different, sing a little different, and it all blends together in the beautiful symphony of the human experience.

And the beautiful thing is, as we kneel in Mass before Christ, it’s not even about us. It doesn’t matter what our homes look like or what we wear or how many kids we have or whether or not we went to the ladies’ guild or church social the week prior. In that moment, all of that falls away, and we are simply kneeling in the presence of the infinite. We are basking in warmth of the sun. For once in our day, a quiet moment, like driving under a bridge in the rain. In that silence, we are reminded how small we are. It isn’t until we socialize after Mass that we start comparing ourselves again. If you’re going to compare yourself, compare yourself to Christ.

So as we let this new, warm spring sun soak into our skin, take notice of all the beautiful new blooms around us. Take notice of the white lilies on the altar this Easter season. Take notice of all the new life around us, birthed from the Lenten season. All of the hues and colors and essences of our brothers and sisters, all so different, yet so perfectly designed as one big, holy, Catholic, and apostolic family.