A Poem About Catholicism

This is a poem I wrote this past summer for someone I know who loves reading/writing poetry, was raised Catholic, feels distant from the Church, and asked me to write a poem about what I see in the Church.  It alludes at one point to both Blessed Pope John Paul II visiting the man who shot him in prison in order to counsel and forgive him, as well as Pope Benedict's pain and grief as he has visited with abuse victim's groups across the globe.  At the end of one of these private meetings, one of the victims said to the media to the effect of, "the Pope wept with us who were weeping."  The point of the poem is really to recognize our baptismal calling to be in Christ and like Christ (i.e., saints), and faithful sons and daughters of His bride, the Church. 

“Why be Catholic?” wonders an age

Confused and daunted, in the wake of so much

Of the past two thousand years

That our heads can reel and soon forget

The vast expanse of Truth revealed

By a humble man born of a peasant virgin

A man who walked seashores and called all people

To become one with Him.

No mere mortal could ever hope

To wash the world clean with the grace He gave:

A Church over which hell cannot prevail,

Offering victory over the grave.

Then we see lives made new in Christ,

Beginning with the least:

Tax collectors, lepers, prostitutes,

And a poor fisherman

Who was charged with leading His Church

And ensuring her faithful increase.

Inspiring countless persons to give their lives

To God and for souls,

It is by the Holy Spirit

That our Mother Church protects, nourishes, and holds

All people to God’s own Son

And the shepherds He has chosen

To keep and guide the fold.

Yet when those brute beasts from the outer darkness

Have attacked us from within,

We must look to Christ and His Church

To see how Mercy and Goodness can triumph once again.

And so we see the heirs of that poor man

Jesus asked to be our Pope

Stepping forward to forgive and console the man that shot him

Crying with those who have been abused

Speaking truth to the forces of death,

And in ten thousand other ways,

Replacing despair with hope.

Can we afford to not accept Jesus’ outstretched hand

In invitation to us?

To follow Him where we did not dream to go,

Yet go with Him in trust,

Into Christ’s Body, the Church,

Into this one big boat

That carries us amidst all life’s doubts and fears?

For with hope of salvation,

An eternity with Jesus, our Perfect Love,

Our Church gives direction,

Calls us to sacrifice,

And thus grants meaning to our years.