The demise of the Catholic church

Source: My artwork from high school

I call myself "open-minded," but there is a part of me that smirks whenever I hear negative news about the Catholic church. I have no doubt that it's end is imminant. The biggest fail, of course, is the scandal involving the molestations by the priests. Even my mother-in-law, the most religiously faithful woman I know, has a bitter word or two for the church. There have been recent closings of schools and combining of churches. I think people just don't want to give money to the church to help fund the lawsuits.

I am open-minded, but only for the good in religion. I despise the Catholic church and all it stands for. I want to see it fail. I will be standing by laughing when it fails, screaming, "it's about time!" I was a prisoner of the Catholic beliefs for too many years. Sometimes I wonder if I would still have been an atheist if I belonged to a different Christian faith.

There is currently an investigation on improper actions by many local priests in my area. One of them I knew. He was the chaplain at my high school. He was also the priest who did the masses at the church I belonged to. I once made him a cake for his birthday. I liked him. I thought he was so nice and relatable. I want to know what he did that was improper. I really can't imagine it. I felt stomach-punched when I heard he was on the list. Even though I was definitely an atheist when this all came out, it hurt deeply. I trusted him!

There was another priest before him. Frankly, I was surprised he wasn't on the list. I loved him. He was a friend to all the kids at my high school. I freaked out a little bit inside when they announced he was leaving as chaplain of my high school. He hugged the kids. He kissed them. He kissed me on the lips, just a little peck. I was so vulnerable. Did he know that? Why did he kiss me? Did he kiss other girls? I felt so special and cared-for. My home life was a wreck, as I'd confided in him. He hugged me and made me feel so safe and loved. I still remember the smell of him. My mother wondered if he molested me. Not physically, but maybe a little bit mentally. Like I said... I loved him. Not in the male/female sense, just in the friend sense. I used to go to the lunch-time masses in the school chapel because of him. I miss him. He never hurt me. At least I don't believe he did.

Easter musings

I remember the first year I felt guilty for not going to church on Easter. It was five years after I'd been married, and I was pregnant with my first child. We walked into my mother's house for Easter dinner and the first thing my step father said was, "Did you go to church?" I said no, and blamed it on queasiness from the pregnancy. I was an adult and I shouldn't have been asked a question like that. It was my own personal business. He still had some sort of hold over me where I felt I couldn't disappoint him. No wonder I was a doormat most of my life!

I'm not sure if I've been to Easter mass since then. I'm not sure that I really care. My step father died before I had my first child. I know that the only reason I would have continued to go to church as an adult would have been to appease my step father.

Looking back, I wonder if the change in mindset was well underway. I know now that I resented being guilted and forced into going to church. I got nothing out of it at all. Once I had the freedom to choose, it's like I stopped going out of spite. I'm sure part of it was that my husband balked at religion in general. It made it easy for me to stop going. Maybe I should thank him for that.

My kids have never attended Easter mass. For them, Easter was all about baskets left by a magical bunny. It was also a day when their grandmother would come for dinner... and they love their grandmom!

Now that most of us don't celebrate Easter in the religious sense, and the kids no longer care about a surprise basket, Easter seems rather... deflated to me.

I'm pretty certain my sons will attend mass with my older son's girlfriend. I'm glad they have something special.

Sometimes as an Atheist I feel like I'm floating alone.

The puppet master

Why do you believe in God?
Because I am a puppet.

Why DON'T you believe in God?
Because I cut the puppet master's strings.

If you were to ask people why they follow their faith, they might answer that it's what they believe. If you asked them why they believe, they might respond that it's what they were taught, or how they were raised. Sounds a bit like coercion to me.


Maybe the definition is a bit strong, but when you think of it, a child is very much like a helpless puppet. They do what they are told, without question. In fact, they don't even know what the questions are! You can tell children anything and they will believe it. Santa Claus, Easter bunny, tooth fairy... God, devil, heaven, hell. Children are trained and guided to as their elders direct them. Tell a child that there is a God and he won't know anything different--unless you tell him there is another point of view. Why WOULD you tell him anything other than what you want him to believe? If you did, you would risk that child choosing his own beliefs.

I think some people take the whole puppet master task a little too seriously. I grew up not learning anything about other religious beliefs. I attended Catholic schools for my entire school career. I don't remember if we were specifically taught that other religions were against God, but it was certainly implied. It didn't matter at the time because I was so sheltered in the Catholic beliefs. I believed what I was taught to believe--what my parents believed.

Now I am an adult, in the real world. The real world consists of people from all over the world who have such varying ideas of what God is. I respect that to a great extent, and I'm glad that I reached out to explore and ask questions. What makes Catholicism "the" one, true faith? Because we were taught that? Well, a Jew believes their's is the one, true faith. And a Buddhist believes their's is the one, true faith. I mean... who is right? The answer is all of them.

I was a puppet. I was a very good, obedient, Catholic puppet. I can't blame those who raised me because they themselves were puppets. Putting one-sided ideas into the mind of a child is a tragedy.

The express pass to heaven

One very vivid memory I had as a young Catholic child was being taught about what God thinks of suicide.

At a young, impressionable age they teach you that heaven is the perfect place. Everyone strives to earn the right to go there. But you have to wait until God calls you to heaven. There is no express pass. But is there? Yes, of course. Your express pass to heaven is death. And if your life is really crappy, wouldn't you prefer to be in heaven?

Children are told this glorified tale of what heaven is. And not surprisingly, it is customized to that particular child. This is what I thought heaven would be. It would be fluffy white clouds below my feet and a vivid blue sky above me. God would be floating around and he would be in a long, white, flowing outfit. He would have a long, white beard and friendly eyes. I don't see anything around me, like toys and candy, but those things are there if I want them. I'm promised that my deceased relatives are up there, but as a young child I really only feel safe around my immediate family, so I'm glad God is right there. I know I can look down on earth to see my family if I want, so I don't really feel too far from them--I just can't touch them or communicate to them.

A story I heard as a child was that of a boy who loved God so much that he didn't want to wait to see him. So he killed himself. And since we were taught that suicide was a sin, that boy couldn't go to heaven. Isn't that a really shitty thing to tell a child? But I'm sure it prevented kids from taking the easy way out when they got in trouble with their parents. If it wasn't considered a sin, don't you think every kid would at some point want to take the express train to heaven rather than get grounded or paddled? As an adult, I now look at this story and think how awful God is to deny access to heaven to a young boy who only wanted to be with him.

I think back to the many ways I was brainwashed as a Catholic child. I now think it was wrong, of course, but when you think of it, it was a really clever tool for adults to keep their kids in line.

Blessed

This is my high school class ring. It was blessed by a bishop that my step-father knew. I suspect that it was a bigger deal to my parents than it was for me. In fact, I gave my class ring to a boyfriend. When my mom found out she drove me right over to retrieve it. I wore this ring during the second half of my senior year, then it sat in a drawer for the next 27 years.

This is where I bring up issues with my step-father. I can't explain what it was about him and religion. It's like he felt he was better than everyone else because he was in tight with his church, and also had connections with higher levels, like the bishop. He frowned upon those who weren't as religious, and it didn't even matter if you were religious--he always acted like he was better and just "more" religious than everyone else.

So, what became of the ring? I sold it. My step-father, if he were alive, would be so angry to know that I sold the "blessed" ring. My mother wouldn't be too happy either. While I'm grateful that my mother did what she could to give us the "typical" high school experience, I really did not like my high school and don't care to have any memories of it. So the ring is gone. To be honest, I didn't exactly run around advertising proudly that it was blessed. Uncool.

Sorry mom. I really did appreciate it at the time, but it's time for me to close that chapter of my life and move on. Maybe the "blessed" gold will bring someone else good fortune.

You can't "un-see" what you have already seen

I had lunch with a friend, and somehow we got onto the topic of religion. Her book club read, "Heaven is for real." Now, I didn't read the whole book, but early on, I was able to explain away what the parents say their kid experienced when he allegedly, "went to heaven" and met God and deceased relatives.

What I found interesting in my conversation with my friend is that the Catholics in her group were the ones explaining away the kid's story. Really? I tried not to impose my thoughts on the topic because my friend believes in God.

So then the topic of religion continued. She is Methodist, while her husband is Jewish. Their son is being raised Methodist. This friend was telling me how annoyed she was with her mother-in-law who states that she is a Jewish Atheist, and how can you be both.

I can answer that.

If I was pushed to identify with a religion, I would say I was raised Catholic. There are so many years behind that belief. There are so many things that remind me of my experiences, and so many memories--both pleasant and not. There are still things in my life as an Atheist that are affected by my Catholic upbringing. I can't just "turn it off." It's like believing in Santa Claus. At one point in your life you stop believing, but that doesn't stop you from including him in your holiday. It's like you can't erase what you have already experienced that has had a significant impact on your life. It can be really hard to let it go.

"New" Atheists can still go to church, can still "pray" even if it's not in the normal sense of the word, can still follow traditions that they grew up with, and can still "identify" with the faith in which they were raised.

We are not hypocrites and we are not confused. We are acknowledging what we knew then, while being true to what we believe now.

I went to church again

I like the church my boys go to. It's warm, friendly, and rather interesting. I love the music. I love the conversational aspect of the sermon. I love how intimate it all feels.

As I was listening intently to the sermon, I glanced upwards. Right there, clear as could be was a letter A. That is the symbol for an Atheist, if you didn't know. Somehow the wires and the lighting came together to show me a perfect, bright letter A that even mimicked the curve of the Atheist symbol. Message from above maybe? No, just coincidence, and noticeable only by the one person who had no right to be there. If I hadn't researched the Atheist symbol, I would probably have never noticed that bright letter A in the rafters.

Signs. Miracles. Prayer.

What if this is all it is:

• SignsYou only see things that mean something to you.
• MiraclesSimply good fortune.
• PrayerInner-dialogue.

I think people draw strength from various sources, and what works for one person, may not work for another. I know some people are very strong in their faith of God and Jesus (I refer to them as "Jesus-lovers"), and feel the need to worship publicly. Some are less involved, but still seek God's intervention when needed by prayer. Some draw strength from meditation. Some can sit in the sun and think of absolutely nothing and that is their power. So basically, some need "something" and some don't.

So I went to church with my boys. I love that they go because they want to, and not because they have to. I looked around at the children at the service. A few had toys with them. The mother in front of us was trying to engage her son by sharing the bible with him as the pastor talked about certain passages. The girl next to me picked up a bible to flip to the verse in Genesis that the pastor was referencing. One of my sons opened his own personal bible, and the other simply listened.

I wonder if these young people will some day resent having religion forced upon them, or if they will think back fondly to the Sundays on which their parents took the time to involve their kids in the celebration of God. I wonder if I would have felt differently if my experience was more family-oriented.

I always wondered if I screwed up with my kids by not involving religion in our daily lives. I guess I didn't if my boys embraced religion when they were ready, and on their terms. My daughter, another atheist, is smart and curious and questions everything. I love that about her.

Maybe I didn't screw up so bad after all.