Why Be Catholic? Husband v. GPS

It was the best laugh I had had in a long time.  Samantha, the soothing female voice on our family GPS, was indicating a left turn ahead.  She had been warning us about it for two miles.  The husband staunchly refused to get into the left hand lane, doubting that Samantha knew this distant area of Michigan as well as he did. We had passed through this area maybe four times before.

After his repeated denials that a lane change was necessary, it turned out that Samantha was correct and there was much "eating of crow" that followed. 

You know how women tease men about not stopping to ask directions?  Even with someone IN the car GIVING directions, the man said “NO.   I will not follow your directions.”

Samantha:  In 2 miles turn left onto Highway 41 North.

Husband:  No.

Samantha:  In 200 feet turn left onto Highway 41 North.

Husband:  No.

Samantha:  Turn left onto Highway 41 North.

Husband:  No.

Now Samantha can be pretty goofy.  Sometimes she tells you to get off major highways and take service roads, seemingly just because she wants to have a look around.  You always have to be making decisions about whether she knows more than you do.  Sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn’t.  So, although I am teasing my poor hubby mercilessly about this, the chance was really 50/50 that he was correct in disregarding Samantha’s advice.

This brings me to one thing I really like about being Catholic, you have a single point of final answer to your questions and you don’t need to second guess things all the time.  Back in my Protestant days, everything my church told me, like my GPS tells me now, had to be scrutinized and analyzed by me.  To quote Simcha Fisher, "My theology credentials are: I am a housewife with a computer".  Now, of course, I had the Holy Spirit to help me discern.  Catholics and Protestants, alike, though, will tell you that listening for His voice and discernment in general can be tricky and a precarious science.  

There may be times when someone in the Catholic Church might give me a bad steer.  The good news is that with the exception of doing something blatantly against the obvious moral law, my obedience to my superiors (husband, boss, church, parents) always gives me the right answer on God’s final exam. 

Not having to reinvent the wheel by repondering every moral and social issue since history began, frees up time for living the vibrant, joy-filled Catholic life God wants to bless me with . . . and for getting lost in Michigan.