Today, I have been thinking about how good it feels to have holy objects within reach. Like my Rosary. I can hear Fr. Kubat's words of blessing over it echoing in my head every time I pick it up. And I look at the palm fronds from Palm Sunday nestled behind the crucifix in our dining room (is a crucifix appropriate in one’s dining room?), and I think what a lovely and grand thing it is to have a holy thing to gaze upon, to touch, to remind you of the things of Heaven.

This is something that was missing from my fundamentalist/evangelical days. There was a prevailing mistrust of considering any object "blessed" or "holy" in the Christian circles I was part of. Fear of idolatry, I suppose. In juxtaposition, there was the frantic pursuit of personal holiness, which in one particular setting took a turn for the nasty. Somewhere along the line, this group of Christians began defining holiness as "power." They sought the ability to bestow heavenly gifts like healing and prophesy on themselves and each other, even to the point that some dared to command the Holy Spirit. They measured their own value to God and the Kingdom of Heaven by supernatural abilities and presumed authority, all the while denying the need for piety as "legalism" or "false humility." The effect was alarming and, in my opinion, devastating.

So here I am now, on my seventh day as a Catholic, pondering piety and holiness and what it means to me in this context. I am so weary of sin commanding my life that piety seems like an inviting place to go. I don't mean false piety – like just muttering my way through the Rosary to be done with it so I can check it off my to-do list. When I pray the Rosary, I want it to be meaningful, and I want it to quiet my soul and help me shed the "old man" and walk with God as a new-made creature. Same for the many other opportunities to pray, such as before meals. It’s not a presumption of holiness I'm after – I want to train my soul to dwell on the things of the Lord above all else. The many prayers and holy activities (like crossing myself) and holy objects around me are reminders of His Glory, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in my soul.

There is another crucifix in my home, a heavy solid brass one next to our front door. This one hasn't been blessed yet, and I intend to take it with us to Mass tomorrow to have that remedied. I don't know if the entry hall is an appropriate place for a crucifix, either, but regardless, it's important for me to have it there. I want it to remind me that as I leave home to go about my business, that I carry the Work which Christ wrought on the Cross in my heart, and that all my dealings with the rest of the world should reflect that. And when we return, I want the crucifix to represent something of a gateway in which we leave worldly things at the doorstep and come into the refuge of peace and holy things. I can't say our home is a perfect refuge by any means, but that's the goal. At least in my head it is.

--Sparki