Twice a year we try to host a big outdoor gathering of Catholic families in our area. We travel in some different Catholic circles, so it's a good opportunity for other Catholics to eat, connect, and enjoy some fellowship for those whose paths might not cross otherwise. We figured God blessed us with this house and a bit of land, so it's up to us to give some of it back in offering.
I have always loved to party, ever since high school (before I became a Christian). As an extroverted-introvert (an introvert with extroverted tendencies), it makes for an interesting dynamic, though. I do need my alone time, but too much of it and I start to get itchy to engage socially. Even after deciding to follow Christ, though, I didn't hang up my beer-pong cups. From college through my time living in Philly and beyond, I would try to throw the biggest parties, inviting anybody and everybody I knew, to fill the house to capacity. But it took a while to straighten out and do it soberly, enjoying the fruits of friendship and fellowship while avoiding sin and it's occasion.
As we were cleaning up after this Spring's event (we call it the bi-annual Catholic Family Fellowship) this afternoon, I was reflecting on how it is a marked difference when people of faith get together versus non-believers, even when 100+ people gather to, well, eat drink and be merry.
In "I Don't Belong Here Anymore," I recounted a bachelor party I attended about six years ago years ago:
"It was the summer of 2016, and I was in Colorado for a bachelor party. Now, ever since high school I have loved to party, and even as a new Catholic I never stopped. I went to parties, threw parties, and would party into the morning with friends. I never had a drinking problem, but temperance was a virtue I had trouble developing. I prayed, went to Mass every Sunday, read spiritual books, but was 'friends with the world" (John 15:19), trying to have my cake and eat it too.
This particular bachelor party I was not really looking forward to attending, but I had to, for various reasons. The guys were younger, and I knew they partied hard; I was getting older, but still susceptible to influence. The first day I tried to not partake in any of the revelry, but concupiscence and appetites are a funny thing, and by day 2 I was crushing the opposition in drinking games. I found myself mirroring Paul's words, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do" (Rom 7:15)
At one point near the end of the weekend I went in my room in the mountain house the crew had rented, and sat on the bed. I wasn't in full on praying mode, but I was really hoping God could get me out of being there. No body else there seemed to have any pangs of conscience or problem with going full tilt since they weren't believers, and yet here I was, feeling the tension of having one foot in the world and one foot in the Church, not living as a good example as a Christian, and not be able to go in with full abandon either.
I always carried a small Gideon bible with me whenever I traveled. I took it out and sat on the bed and prayed a quick prayer for help. I remember to this day, I opened it and the first thing I read was
"Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must rid yourself of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and you have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator." (Col 3:5-10)
I was struck dumb. I recalled the story of St. Augustine in the garden, picking up the scriptures at the words he heard from a child, "Take up and read, take up and read." What he read was this:
"Not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual excess and lust, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rather, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh." (Rom 13: 13-14)
I called a Christian friend back home, a man of integrity, and told him what had happened when I opened the scripture, what I landed upon, and how it cut to the heart and left me exposed to my inconsistency. He was encouraging, but in that room I felt alone in a crowd. I didn't belong there anymore."
What I enjoy about spending time with people of faith is we are all on the same page, and the temptation to drink to excess, engage in idle gossip, or frivolous conversation is greatly diminished. God gave us food, drink, and each other to enjoy in virtue, not for the sake of sin or indulgence. There is an underlying sense of wanting the good for one another in Christian charity in the bonds of our Catholic faith. Not that non-believers can't live virtuously or wholesomely, but as One Body there is something sacramental that builds up, rather than exists without purpose or meaning or happenstance.
The other thing that was great was there were tons of kids. We had the space for them to run around and play games like hide and seek, sports and cornhole. Part of the purpose of these gatherings we host is for the kids to get the chance to build up friendships in a safe environment while sharing the communal elements of their faith. Two local priests also graced us with their presence, and given how busy they are these days, that was a nice bonus. The weather was looking a bit iffy beforehand, so my wife and I prayed for the intercession of St. Medard ten minutes prior to people coming over, and the forecast went from 90% chance of rain to 50% to zero in a matter of a half hour. Thank you St. Medard!
When my wife and had our first son, I had to ask a friend from college to be his godfather, because we had so few Catholic friends. Most of our partying/gathering back then were with my secular friends back in Philly, and we weren't plugged in with any Catholics, especially those with big families that considered it normal to have more than three or four kids. I still remember the pray I prayed in the spirit of St. Francis, "Lord, send me some brothers!" And He did! He also provided devout Catholic women our age for my wife as well.
Part of Christian charity is learning to live in a way that doesn't always ask, "What can I get out of this or that?" but "What can I give?" Living out the virtues cultivates the hard-fought battle to learn selflessness, but when you are all doing it together and building one another up, it becomes easier. Even Jesus needed the women to wipe his face and Simon to help carry his cross on the way to Calvary. As Christians, and especially as Catholics, our road to Heaven is corporal, not individual. For families like ours and others, though, it helps when you are able to have a little fun and fellowship along the way.
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