Witnesses Speak at Mass of the Neophytes

TOGETHER IN CHURCH: Sister Alice Michael, SUSC, diocesan director of the RCIA, greets members of the parish delegation from St. Jude’s, Canarsie, at the Mass of the Neophytes.

Auxiliary Bishop Frank Caggiano celebrated the Mass of the Neophytes on April 15 at St. James Cathedral-Basilica, Downtown Brooklyn.

Participants included those newly baptized Catholics who entered the Church during Easter Vigil services as well as those who were entering into full communion with the Church.

Two people gave personal witness talks to describe their experiences with the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults program.

Following are the text of both talks:

Andrey Sazonov
St. Mark’s parish, Sheepshead Bay

My name is Andrey Sazonov and I am very excited to be here, to share my story and to thank people who inspired and supported me through this time.

Honestly, I always thought that I was O.K. I was born to the Christian Orthodox family, where my father always remembered to do everything in God’s presence and remembered to thank God constantly. So I attended services once in awhile, slept through the Mass once in awhile and even remembered to pray sometimes.

Then, when my wife of 10 years, asked me to marry her in church and I found out that I was not even baptized — then is the time when my journey r-e-a-l-l-y started. And I do believe that the Holy Spirit works in wonderful and very unpredictable ways. I was able to not faint in front of the altar, but also find my way.

I would like to thank the Holy Catholic Church for accepting me and creating the RCIA, the incredible process, which helped me to realize, that to live with God in your heart is not the outdated idea at all, and that “prayer is not the amusement of an old lady, but a peaceful and powerful weapon in the hands of anybody who truly believes” — like somebody once said.

And I would like from the bottom of my heart to thank my RCIA fellows, my teacher Ms. Mathew and my anchor, Frank Danza, whom I am proud to call my godfather now, for helping me to get through this uneasy but exciting transformation and helping me to finally feel at home.

Thank you all very much for letting me share my story and not falling sleep and God bless you.

Karen Johnson
Our Lady Queen of Martyrs parish, Forest Hills

When I was a little girl, I spent my summers at a beautiful sleep away camp on Long Island. Every night, after the evening activities had ended, the counselors told us a bedtime story before we went back to our cabins for the night. There’s one story that I’d like to share that I think best describes how I got here.

It’s the story of a little boy, who goes around doing mean things intentionally to hurt people. Whether it’s for his own amusement, or out of anger, boredom, or loneliness, he thrives on making other people unhappy.

Well, his dad sees this pattern developing in him, so one day, they sit down and have a little talk. His dad gives him a beautiful, unblemished pine wood board, along with a hammer and a box of nails.

He says to his son, “I want you to take this board, and every time you do something mean or hurtful to someone else, hammer a nail into the board.”

Well, this was the little boy’s dream come true. He kept on going as he had been, doing nasty things to his brothers and sisters and friends, until one day the board was completely filled with nails. He brought it proudly to his father and said, “Dad, I did what you said, and my board is totally full!”

His father then instructed him to go back to all the people he hurt and apologize, or try to do something nice to make up for what he had done to hurt them.

Each time he did something nice, he was told to take a nail out of the board. So, off he went, apologizing and doing good things, and before too long the board was empty again.

The little boy brought the board to his dad and said, “Dad, I did what you said, and now my board is empty, but it doesn’t look as nice as when you gave it to me.

It’s all full of holes!” His father said, “Son, that’s because every time you hurt somebody, even if you apologize or do nice things afterwards, it leaves a scar on your relationship with them. They may forgive you, but that scar will always be there.”

Now, let me preface this by saying, I have never been a mean person or done things with cruel intentions. But I’ve definitely made my share of mistakes, and I’ve definitely hurt people along the way. Try as I might to patch up those holes, they somehow transferred themselves from the metaphorical wood board to my heart, which left behind an emptiness that no person or thing could fix.

But that’s what happens when we walk alone on this journey – we feel empty because we are empty.

I knew God was out there. He called me many times before I decided to listen. When you are brought up without religion in your home, you begin to believe that you can do everything by yourself. But inevitably, at some point, you start to feel the ache, and ask those painful questions, like, “What is all for?,” and “Why do I bother?”

I came to RCIA with the humble acknowledgment that I needed divine intervention. And in a nutshell, this is what I found:

Through baptism, God fixes the board and makes it new again, without holes, and even more beautiful than before.

Through communion, Jesus refuels your conscience and your heart so you are less likely to put nails in the board.

Through confirmation, the board is stained and polyurethaned, making it stronger and protecting it against the little dings and accidents that might occur.

And through reconciliation, God takes a board with holes, forgives you for the holes, and fills the holes with wood putty, making it not quite as good as new, but better nonetheless.

In the story, the dad explained to the boy that his actions left permanent scars on other people’s hearts. It’s true – as human beings, we are capable of causing each other so much pain. But as Catholics, we are equipped with three things that make us different: faith (which gives us purpose), the Eucharist (fuel for the journey), and the Holy Spirit, which takes away the emptiness within us and constantly reminds us that we are not alone. These three things make us less likely to hurt one another and more likely to forgive when we are hurt.

I was about seven years old when I first heard the story of the little boy and the wood board. Now that I look back, I find it interesting that of all the stories I heard at summer camp, the one I remember the most had to do with a father and a son, a lesson about forgiveness, and the hammering of nails into wood.

No amount of money could buy the gifts I received at the Easter Vigil Mass this year. I am so thankful to the RCIA program at Our Lady Queen of Martyrs, with its dedicated teachers and clergy. But more than that, I’m just grateful that this time, when God called, I found the strength to answer.