I posted some pictures but I didn’t write much about last week’s Rite of Election. As I was reminded of today, and pretty much any day I’ve been in church since, I am now an Elect. My name is in the book and in five weeks I will be fully joining the church. I still need to try on robes, although they have a different, official-Latin-type name; alb. I’m both nervous and excited and only apprehensive of the ritual itself.

Last week, my nerves only extended to looking funny and being the center of attention which I abhor. I was still excited despite hoping that with all of the steps I was supposed to take that I wouldn’t trip and fall or do anything else equally stupid.

It was a full day of the Catholic Church in all its glory beginning with the first part at my local church for the Rite of Sending. My congregation said blessings over me and extended their prayers that things continue to go well. I was up there with J, who was standing in for my godparents and sponsor and she walked me through it all, making sure I knew where to go and when to stand up, when to speak and all that technical stuff.

While Father J was asking the questions of J and myself and then saying the prayers, I watched a beetle crawl around the steps of the altar avoiding looking at the packed pews. It was strange to look out at people and even stranger to be able to tell who the devout were as opposed to the obligated, although thankfully no one looked at their watches that I noticed.

They dismissed me from the church during Eucharist, something they will do for the next three weeks after the Scrutinies. I stood in the gathering space for the rest of the Mass. As the rest left, people would look over and wave, smile and nod. A few came over to shake my hand and congratulate me on getting this far and wishing me luck for the rest. One woman was in the RCIA program fourteen years ago and one man was a catechumen last year. They were both still very excited with their joining the church and were very excited for me as were their spouses, all four shaking my hand and glowing with happiness. I couldn’t help but let the happiness warm me.

The second part of the day was the Rite of Election at the Cathedral. The Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception is in downtown Albany, and is the second oldest Catholic cathedral in the state. St. Patrick’s in NYC is the oldest. It is also the third oldest in the country. It is of the Gothic style taking your eye upward, bright light coming in through the stained glass windows and outside the buttresses and spires add to the medieval world feeling. (I would add an author’s note that if you’re interested in church architecture to find David Macaulay’s Cathedral. It’s a magnificent artist’s rendition of the building of a medieval Gothic cathedral.)

Arriving, we were almost late. I misunderstood where the parking area was. While it was physically on the left side of the church, there was no entrance on that side and so we had to drive around the governor’s mansion, the park, the state museum until finally figuring out where the entrance was. The church itself was much smaller than I expected, but the vaulted ceilings and pillars made it look huge. We came in a side door, so we entered about halfway up the aisle. I had been told that our seats were in row 5, so as I began to count back, Deacon M came over to meet us and showed me to our seats with my family following.

It may have technically been row 5 but in fact it was front row center. I might have had to catch my breath. The only one sitting ahead of us was the Bishop.

When Bishop Hubbard was appointed thirty-seven years ago, he was the youngest bishop in the country and is currently the longest serving bishop in the Diocese’s 162 year history. He tendered his required resignation in October and will be replaced the week before this upcoming Easter.

This service included a Liturgy of the Word but no Eucharist. There was so much to see that I spent a lot of my time looking around. Stone walls, large and small statuary, stained glass windows in every spot they could fit them, pillars. The Cathedral’s Tabernacle was gold and three times the size of the one at my home church.

Once I settled between Father J and J, again standing in and guiding me, my nerves left me. I let my husband take care of the kids and I listened to the service and let my eye wander. The ambo was up a circular stair, all made of polished wood, reminiscent of the ones I saw at the Burton Parish Church in Colonial Williamsburg recently. (After it was all over, my daughter took the camera, climbed up there and took selfies. She also took one on the altar and when I said I was glad she didn’t sit in the bishop’s chair, which looked more like a throne, she smiled and said that she had, and then skipped away to find more cookies and juice.)

After the godparents answered that the catechumens had been studying and were ready for this next step, we were asked if we accepted and wanted to continue to join the church. The only answer is “I do.” I was one of the first ones called to greet the Bishop. He took my hand, shook it and welcomed me into the church. I think I said thank you, but I was trying to imprint the moment on my memory and also not trip on the steps. He had this soft smile and a sturdy voice, and while the whole time I knew I was doing the right thing, this was one of the confirmations of that. It all felt so right. No hesitation, no mental missteps, no questioning. Once I made the choice to become Catholic, I have never wavered. I have been nervous about telling people for fear of offending anyone or saying the wrong thing, and not knowing which things I know from others and which I’ve learned from doctrine, but the choice itself? Never a question; not one.

I signed my name in the book, and that was where my hand didn’t work right, but I managed it and looked at my family, and I could feel the grin on my face with the overwhelming excitement of this moment for me.

There were more blessings and then we were back in our seats for the rest of the Liturgy and the other candidates who had been previously baptized. We took pictures on the steps, and I got a nice one of the kids outside. I’ll have to remember a list of pictures I want at the Easter Vigil because I know I forgot to take some.

We were able to wander around the Cathedral afterwards, but I plan to go back and do some more wandering and picture taking. There was a short line by the Baptismal font where the Bishop was receiving people and taking pictures.

That kind of thing usually makes me nervous, but I really was in a very good mental place. I’m surprised at how little anxiety this whole thing has caused. There is a calmness that is just there, a comfort and the knowledge that this is so much the right thing, probably the only thing I’ve never wondered about if I were making the right decision.

All of my feelings, as I learn more and more through the RCIA program, I realize that much of what I had in my belief system matches perfectly to what the Catholic Church teaches and the words of Jesus Christ. It surprises me that I’ve waited this long to find this out, although I suppose things happen the way they do for a reason. Something will be said by a friend or one of the program teachers, and my response is almost always when I was a child, I thought….

It still knocks me back a bit, but that is the presence of the Holy Spirit always being there whether I felt it or not, but always being there to guide me and put the right questions in my heard at the best times to search out the answers.

I can only hope this continues over the next few weeks as I approach my first sacraments before my family, friends, godparents and church family. It’s not long now.