Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Crossing the Hecate Strait

I boarded the ferry to the Queen Charlotte Islands, as Haida Gwaii was known in those days, and found a seat for the 6-hour trip across the Hecate Strait. I made sure I was seated so I could face the window. The seasoned passengers had booked cabins so they could leave their possessions safely while they roamed the decks or went to the cafeteria. Other travellers bunked down around the perimeter of the main lounge with their sleeping bags and packsacks. I tried to settle in my seat but the back was at an uncomfortable angle. It was going to be a long trip.

In those pre-internet days, we read books, played cards, or talked to our travelling companions while we were on a journey. I opened my book and tried to concentrate but the young couple sitting behind me were talking and distracting me.

The man told his wife that the Lord had told him several things. She responded that the Lord had also communicated with her. They were very confident and self-assured about this. On and on it went, the two of them describing their mission from God. I was not used to people of faith talking about their relationship with Jesus. I thought it was bizarre and obnoxious.  I wondered if they were making a big show of it for my benefit.  I also wondered why they didn’t speak in hushed tones about their faith. You know, like a Catholic would.

Not that I really had a clue about what a Catholic would do. Even though I got myself to church fairly regularly I couldn’t have given you a confident and clear answer on much of anything the Church taught. My faith was more of a vague spirituality and a list of don’ts. 

After about 15 minutes of listening to this couple talk about their direct line to God, I was thoroughly annoyed and I tried to find another seat. I ended up near another couple. Listening to them speak German, which I barely understood, was preferable to listening to the Christian couple speak in English about things I could not understand at all.

Even in my aggravation I was also envious that they had this freedom to speak out loud about their beliefs and experiences. I really wanted that for myself but I didn't know how a Catholic could do that. I suspected Catholic Charismatics might be able to, but they were so foreign to me I didn't think I could bridge that gap or would even want to. Perhaps the Holy Spirit led me to that particular seat so he could stir my conscience and my soul, though it would be at least another 10 years before I experienced any real conversion.  

"For your mercies’ sake, O Lord my God, tell me what you are to me. Say to my soul: “I am your salvation.” So, speak that I may hear, O Lord; my heart is listening; open it that it may hear you, and say to my soul: “I am your salvation.”

After hearing this word, may I come in haste to take hold of you. Hide not your face from me. Let me see your face even if I die, lest I die with longing to see it.

The house of my soul is too small to receive you; let it be enlarged by you. It is all in ruins; do you repair it.

There are things in it – I confess and I know – that must offend your sight. But who shall cleanse it? Or to what others besides you shall I cry out?

From my secret sins cleanse me, O Lord, and from those of others spare your servant. Amen."

- St. Augustine

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