Losing My Religion

Before I start, I have to say that I called my nmom this morning to check in and let her know that I am doing better. She picked up! She spoke with me! It was fantastic. She is sick now herself, and we didn't talk for very long, but it was a thrill. We shared a few jokes about not doing housework, and she said she is very happy that my brother is coming to see me at the end of February. It was a normal, easy conversation that flowed. I would never have predicted this a year ago. It shows how important it is to keep the faith.

That was my segue into the topic of religion...

I think religion offers many people a sense of belonging and comfort in a world that often doesn't make sense. It provides a promise that there is something bigger and better at work in our lives. I know many people who are devout in their beliefs, and I envy them the security they feel as a result of believing. I am not quite so cynical to see religion purely as the opium of the masses, but Marx did have a point.

My maternal nfamily is very religious; they are conservative Episcopalians. I call it Roman Catholic Lite, although that is not the most polite way of putting it.

My aparents, by contrast, are not very religious at all. My dad was raised Lutheran, and my mother was Southern Baptist (she even worked for Billy Graham one summer she was in high school, opening prayer request letters and highlighting the important bits). After they married, they began drifting slowly towards more liberal beliefs. When I came along, they belonged to the small United Church of Christ congregation around the corner from our house. I have very few memories of this church as we left its fold when I was five, but apparently I caused quite a stir by questioning things in Sunday School. "If Adam and Eve only had sons, where did their wives come from?" "If God is watching me all the time, that is very creepy." And so on.

When I was six, my parents discovered the Ethical Society. It is a humanist organization, founded by an ex-rabbi, Felix Adler, in New York in the 19th century. Sunday meetings for the adults would focus on current events and discussions of ethical issues. Sunday School meant comparative religion. It was highly intellectual, which my parents found refreshing. For me, it meant that everything was rational rather than emotional. I lost my ability to have faith because I could see the very human machinations behind the power structures of each religion, the hypocrisy, the imperfections of so-called perfect beliefs. When I was in my 20's, I told my father that my upbringing had killed my ability to have faith in any higher power. His response? "Good. Then I did my job right."

When we lived in England, where there is no separation of Church and State, I was introduced to the beliefs of the Church of England in our weekly school assemblies and hymn practices. I was obliged as a Brownie and Girl Guide to attend church at least once a month, with my pack and troop, in full uniform for Church Parade. I took in the culture and enjoyed the hymns and parables in our vicar's sermons.

Back in St. Louis, most of my friends were Roman Catholic. Over the years I developed a fascination with Catholicism that I still hold dear. I loved going to mass and the idea of belonging to a religion that stretched back 2,000 years, to my favorite period in history. I thought First Communion dresses were ueber cool, and I loved that at confirmation you were able to pick a new name for yourself from a thick book of saints. I find the idea of confession quite comforting. I went to Mass every day that I was in Rome, and I have dragged Mark along the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Both were completely transcendent experiences for me.

I have considered converting to Catholicism from time to time, but I have a huge problem in buying into a hierarchy that is obviously corrupt and misogynistic, and that protects child molesters. I don't like the Pope's stance on birth control or abortion. I don't like how women are excluded from power. Not to mention that I hate what Catholic Charities has done, and still does, to adoptees and first families.

I do have wonderful thinking Catholic friends who include Jesuit priests. I suppose I could convert and only support those bits of the religion I believe in, like some of these priests do, but that seems pretty hypocritical, also.

No other religion appeals to me, although my parents have since become Unitarian Universalists because there is no Ethical Society in the area where they live. People have suggested that I try Judaism or Buddhism, but while I respect those religions, they are not a good fit for me on a spiritual level. Deep, deep inside of me I am Catholic--I couldn't be anything else, but I am not quite at the point where I can jump off the cliff of skepticism into belief.

I don't like what people do in the name of religion--start wars, claim that Jesus/God/Allah loves their country best and most, suppress and kill non-believers, take babies from their mothers, claim that the poor are undeserving drains on society, i.e., not truly uphold the tenets (compassion, forgiveness, etc.) of the religion they espouse.

I hate how religion gets tied into politics, that is. "If you are a true believer, you will vote this way, support this war/cause." As in the debacle of California's Proposition 8, bankrolled by the Church of Latter Day Saints. The Crusades. Our current war in Afghanistan. The Israeli/Palestinian conflict. Yuck.

I abhor entitlement, no matter how it is packaged.