For me, Easter was just another significant stop, like a train station, in a much longer faith journey which began years ago. That train pulled into another station in September 2001, when RCIA began for me. The experience was made so much richer and more personal through sharing with the other passengers, Thitaporn, Cathy, Elise and Therese. It felt like the culmination of a huge sharing experience, similar to gathering around the piano to sing Christmas carols with long-lost relatives.

The prayers on Holy Thursday night allowed personal time with God an set the mood for the whole weekend. It laid to rest my old notions of prayer being a chore and reinforced my new beliefs that prayer is a very personal form of two-way communication with God.

Watching the Stations of the Cross on Good Friday morning moved me yet again. Eight children, from a youth group that I am proud to be an adult leader of, performed the story of Jesus' suffering as though I were right there feeling the pain of being an outcast.

As we shared comparisons of how we had changed our spirituality and attitudes from the beginning of our program to Easter, the spiritual growth in each and every catechumen and team member alike, was fully evident and encouraging.
The smell of incense and the soft glow of candlelight made Father Kerry's voice seem to waft over the congregation like a thick and peaceful fog of hope. As we shuffled into the church for the big moment, I realised I was walking without feet. On that Easter Vigil Saturday night I felt closer to those four catechumens, closer to the RCIA team, closer to my wonderful sponsor, Chris, closer to my beautiful wife, Sarah, closer to the congregation as a community, and closer to God. The closer I felt, the more at peace I became, and knew that this peace was confirming my decision to become Catholic and to invite God fully into my life. Through the closeness with everyone else I was experiencing the fullness of Jesus' love and taking this huge step of faith. There were no cold feet; like the sureness of finding the floor when you get out of bed in the middle of the night.

In the dark, God was there.
In the beautiful light of new friends and fond memories, God was there.
In the faces of the parishioners welcoming us into the Church, God was there.

As I looked around at those parishioners, I saw familiar faces smiling back, and it reflected the sense of unity and community present not only in our parish, but also in an ever-increasing way in the Catholic Church at large. I felt moved yet calm. I heard silent weeping from a proud lady next to me, and shed my own tears for the support I had received from those who care for me and those I loved. With Sister Mary as our tour guide we had seen all of the stopovers, broken bread together, prayed together, shared together and had built trust and friendship just as the disciples had done.

It was only after reflection of these events that I realised that a song I had written before beginning the program was to serve as a premonition of my spirituality at its completion. Those words are included below.
 
Look Back
Words and Music by Grant

God, I wrote this when I dried my eyes,
Then I came to realise
The answer doesn't lie in separation,
But a need for the Father and communication.
When we didn't talk I was incomplete,
Now I'm kneeling at your feet
And there's no need to look back.
After a while it became clear to me,
I didn't want to keep this separation going any longer.
And I'm filled with you now,
You're here by my side
Of your awesome power
I won't try to hide
We live because you died,
I won't look back.
Just speaking The Word makes me rejoice,
Just see how fast I can run when Your Spirit takes over where my legs left off
Look back, look back, look back, look back, and be free,
And you will see
You're with Jesus, with Jesus, with Jesus, with Jesus,
And there's no need to look back.
2001

Grant
Our Lady of Fatima, Caringbah