As an adult, I have had decades with zero Mass attendance and then bursts when I was a regular. I resigned from one parish in the aftermath of a pedophilia episode. And now I have joined another. This one is on the beach, and the beach environment and population seem to invade the church. Or at least I hope so.
It is an understatement to say I have struggled with faith and religious practice, but I have comfort with core spirituality. I grapple with the meaning of faith, the concept of sin; I battle with rules, with Church as authority rather than conduit and community.
(At one point, I decided only to say the parts of the Nicene Creed at Mass that I 'believed in', and had a crisis when I got down to saying only one sentence. Seriously. Not joking. One sentence. That precipitated another spell of absence from church and Church.)
Since the SCA and a couple other life events, I have accepted that "faith" is not ever going to be that absolute certainty for me that I once wished it would be. And I have accepted that it is fine to carry my tortured version of faith and spirituality into any old church I choose. Including a Catholic one on the beach.
Example of newfound approach to faith: I was talking with a friend a few months back - a friend who shares some of the questions. (But he may be worse - he blurted out at Christmas to his very, very Southern mother - "my Jesus is brown". Caused a family ruckus.)
We talked about the Virgin Birth as an example - no way do I believe that. Sorry. And even worse (or better), I honestly don't understand why anyone cares. My friend said he had long ago written that one off to a translation problem. That in the ancient days of either the Old Testament and/or the New one - someone wrote "virgin" instead of "young unmarried girl".
I decided why the F not. This could be the true explanation. My newfound approach to faith --- "could be true" is enough. Close enough.
Life should be this simple. Of course, if my priest reads this, I am doomed. Literally.
(At one point, I decided only to say the parts of the Nicene Creed at Mass that I 'believed in', and had a crisis when I got down to saying only one sentence. Seriously. Not joking. One sentence. That precipitated another spell of absence from church and Church.)
Since the SCA and a couple other life events, I have accepted that "faith" is not ever going to be that absolute certainty for me that I once wished it would be. And I have accepted that it is fine to carry my tortured version of faith and spirituality into any old church I choose. Including a Catholic one on the beach.
Example of newfound approach to faith: I was talking with a friend a few months back - a friend who shares some of the questions. (But he may be worse - he blurted out at Christmas to his very, very Southern mother - "my Jesus is brown". Caused a family ruckus.)
We talked about the Virgin Birth as an example - no way do I believe that. Sorry. And even worse (or better), I honestly don't understand why anyone cares. My friend said he had long ago written that one off to a translation problem. That in the ancient days of either the Old Testament and/or the New one - someone wrote "virgin" instead of "young unmarried girl".
I decided why the F not. This could be the true explanation. My newfound approach to faith --- "could be true" is enough. Close enough.
Life should be this simple. Of course, if my priest reads this, I am doomed. Literally.
Posts
Hey, Marty!
ReplyDeleteGREAT ARTICLE! I really enjoyed this one. For many years I felt the same way. And, I've heard so many times that "we'll never really know until we die."
Oh... really????? Then we're the experts, now!
You're really cool, Marty!(Put up a photo, maybe?)
And keep writing, my friend.
Bob
from bob turri, lost in the BLOGGER outage:
ReplyDeleteHey, Marty!
GREAT ARTICLE! I really enjoyed this one. For many years I felt the same way. And, I've heard so many times that "we'll never really know until we die."
Oh... really????? Then we're the experts, now!
You're really cool, Marty!(Put up a photo, maybe?)
And keep writing, my friend.
Bob