At age 50, I was received into the Catholic Church after being a member of the Anglican Church of Canada most of my adult life. It was the culmination of seven months of preparation through the RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) program, but more than that, a lifetime of preparation was consummated at the sublime moment when the priest layed his hands on my head, called me by my confirmation name, and traced the sign of the cross on my forehead with chrism oil. Strangely, when he placed his hands on my head, it wasn’t a mere tap or pat on the head, but I felt a tremendous weight come down on me. As the Sacrament of Confirmation was administered, the five of us candidates and catechumens faced the assembly; a parishioner who had gone through the same experience the year before later remarked how he saw the Holy Spirit descend upon us...
Read in full at Anglican Comment.
My good people
-
Wise people who frequent the exquisite little Penlee Gallery in Penzance
will be familiar with one of its prize exhibits: The rain it raineth every
day (1...
3 months ago
No comments:
Post a Comment