Growing Up in the Modern Church

Who is "The Girl in the Mantilla"? 


She's every Catholic girl.

When I was little I did what every young Catholic girl did. I went to Mass.
The first vivid memory I have is of the Mission Basilica in San Juan Capistrano, CA. I remember thinking how beautiful the inside was, and the altar was heavenly. Adobe walls that kept it cool in the summer, rich Native American history, and a solemn NO. As I'm sure most children do, I would get bored. I'd fidget, bite my nails, look around. My father would always do the *finger snap* and point at the kneeler. This was always my cue to stop what I was doing and PAY ATTENTION.

I volunteered at the Sacred Heart Retreat House in Alhambra with the Carmelite nuns, I worked at the  local soup kitchen every lent, and we would pray the rosary almost every night as a family.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I was not interested in my faith, despite all the volunteer work, rosaries and Mass. I'm not ashamed because I wouldn't have the strong faith I do today, if it wasn't for everything that happened. During our attendance to the Mission Basilica, my mother found a Padre Pio group at the Junipero Serra Chapel. She has quite the devotion to Padre Pio, ever since she was cured of blindness with no medical explanation. This was actually recorded at the Vatican as a miraculous sign of Padre Pio, and went towards his canonization. We met two very interesting people.

Charles Mandina & Rocky Falatico. Charles (or as we now know him "Uncle Charlie") used to work with Padre Pio in Italy. While Rocky, was completely cured of an inoperable brain tumor at the hands of Padre Pio.

My mom and dad became very close with them. Uncle Charlie died several years later from cancer and he became the Godfather to my brother, Sean. After every Padre Pio mass, they'd either meet for coffee or dinner at the diner across the street. I would always find this extremely boring, and now wish I had the sense to stay and listen to some of the stories that were told.

After Uncle Charlie died, we gradually grew apart from Rocky and we moved further down the coast.   As time went on, we would go to different churches - trying to find the right one. Yet as the years rolled by, it seemed every Church was conforming to the modern idea of Catholicism.



By this I mean hand holding, drums, protestant hymns, dancing on the altar, and other grave liturgical abuses. I began to drift further and further away from my faith. Not only did I not understand it... deep down, even THEN, I think I knew this wasn't right.

Modern Catholicism is a dangerous thing. It spreads, like a disease. I've watched basic truths become "lies". I've seen a reverent NO go extinct. I've heard weak homilies, giving excuses to sin.  The worst of all of this, is that Catholics have been split down the middle. Now it's not enough to say "I'm Catholic". It becomes like politics. Republican vs Democrat, black & white, night & day -  I feel it necessary to not only point out that I'm Catholic... but a TRADITIONAL Catholic. Otherwise, I may find myself among supporters of homosexual marriages and abortion.

When I was 18 I met my husband online. I moved to England for 2 years and married in the local courthouse. I knew this was not the right way of doing things, but for a short while... I didn't care.
I stopped going to church for a few months, and found myself feeling more and more depressed as time went by.

One day, I decided to walk to the Church - it was a two mile walk,  I didn't have a car in England... and on this particular day it was raining and very cold. When I approached the Church I saw graffiti on the outside - sprayed on to the crucifix in the garden. There were obscene words and images, and I remember getting upset at the sight of Our Lord treated in such a way. Guilt struck me soon after, and I went inside to talk to a priest.

I'll never forget that day. What initially caused me to go in the first place, was more than just "depression". I had not done things in the right way (as I said before) and miscarried a child. I felt as if God hated me, and that I was personally responsible for the death of my baby. I went inside and stood in awe. The stained glass windows, the Latin Mass dedicated altar. The 300 year old confessionals, and it all smelled like when you open an old bible. The priests lived on site, and there were strict rules on the inside walls. No cell phones, no short skirts, no bare arms and almost all the women wore a mantilla.

Now even though I grew up in a relatively traditional family, I viewed the mantilla as "pious". I almost despised them, I don't know exactly why, but I did. I spent the afternoon talking with the parish priest, and then I walked back home. From that day forward, my husband and I walked every Sunday to Mass. One year later, we moved back to California and were married in the Church.

Something was still missing. I craved that initial feeling of when I walked inside that church. I couldn't find it anywhere in California. All the NO's were the same as they always were. This all changed when I found a Latin Mass. I started researching, studying, reading, praying... and yes...

WEARING A MANTILLA.

Our family reconnected with Rocky, and we say the rosary every Friday night with the children from his catechism class. He is also another inspiration for me spiritually. Never a bad word to say about those in need, always willing to help. Rosary in hand, food for the homeless, a true Franciscan attitude. 

The saint I seem most attached to is St. Joseph of Cupertino - I love the thought of being simple. Everything was simple. The way he lived his life. He had nothing, wanted nothing. Did everything for everyone else, and everything he did was for God. I pray that I live my life like this (it's hard, I admit it).  

To the Church leaders, Bishops, Priests, and even Pope Francis - I say this:

Stop pushing away tradition. Embrace it. Younger people may flock to the drums and liturgical dance... but that's fleeting. When they reach adult age, they ALL start to wonder. They all start to realize something is missing. Either they leave the faith because of poor catechesis, or they continue going to Mass - never understanding why they go. They're just "going through the motions".  The Church doesn't need to come into the future. As Cardinal Burke so perfectly puts it:

Signed, 

The Girl in the Mantilla

+JMJ+