Remodeling the Domestic Church - New Evangelizers

I recently spent a few days at the home of a very dear friend.  In the course of our many conversations, my friend referenced some people, places, and things of which I had to confess I knew nothing.  Finally she asked, in feigned exasperation, “How could you be so ignorant of contemporary culture?”

It wasn’t easy.

In fact, it took years.  Years of being a “good mother” by insulating my family from the culture.  Years of holding back my teens from being “salt and light,” for fear that they would become tainted. Years of foolishly equating familiarity with the culture and complicity in its basest aspects.  And years of exempting myself from the Christian obligation to evangelize.

Once I came to realize that my theory of “how to grow a Catholic family” was, um, flawed, I started to develop a more reasonable view of my family’s and my relationship to the culture.

And, somewhere along the line, I came to know St. Julian.

St. Julian of Norwich was an anchorite and English mystic who lived in the 14th century.   Her cell contained three windows:  one overlooking the altar, one opening into the room of her lay sisters, and one leading to the public lane.  I learned that the windows represented Julian’s duties: first, the worship of God; second, the support of her community; third, the service of others.  I was struck by the fact that, even though she was a religious committed to a secluded life, St. Julian did not have a windowless cell that shut out the world.

It occurred to me that St. Julian’s cell was a good model to follow.  So now my domestic church has three windows:  one through which we may communicate with God and ask for the graces suited to our calling; one through which to serve as Christ served; one through which we may make our gifts available to a culture that desperately needs them.

How many windows are in your domestic church?

Copyright © 2013, Celeste Behe

Celeste Behe

Celeste Behe is a storyteller and sometime humorist who, according to one book author, "writes like Garrison Keillor would, if he were Catholic and had nine kids." She is also a contributor to Faith & Family magazine, the National Catholic Register, and the Integrated Catholic Life, and she blogs at A Perpetual Jubilee. As a designated Toastmaster, Celeste entertains audiences with both nostalgic tales of her childhood in the Bronx, and modern-day tales of adventure that could only be told by the mother of nine. Celeste's memoir--cum-cookbook, Nine Kids, No Dishwasher: A Celebration of Life, Love, and Table, is a work in progress.