I was five years old when Catholicism killed religion for me. Well, it most likely was a slow progression culminating from various factors, but in my fifth year I watched what the Catholic church did to my Mother following a divorce. Divorce is technically not allowed when you are an almighty Catholic, but you cannot keep someone from divorcing you if it's what they really want. The breakup of a marriage in itself would seem like punishment enough, but oh no, the church has its own way to make you feel even lousier. Witnessing the church’s retribution when one of its flock failed to fully live by its code began the slow demise of my faith in organized forms of worship.
Divorce is a sin, so the little “perks” of being a faithful Catholic are taken away in penance. Prohibited from receiving communion, Mom would simply kneel or sit while the congregation filed past her for their tasty bit of Styrofoam Jesus. Once I made First Communion I begged for the pleasure of skipping this weekly ritual. Not only is the concept cannibalistic, but that foul tasting disc of Styrofoam-like bread always stuck to the roof of my mouth and made me gag. I guess I should have known that the path of a true believer would not be mine after my body took to physically trying to expel the sacrament.
More than the actual fact of her sitting out one of the foremost rituals of Catholic mass, it was the emotional toll it took on her that angered me and set me down the path of resentment. For all intents and purposes, she was an innocent woman. Wronged now by both her husband and the church she so believed in. Where do you turn when the object of your faith and comfort desserts you? Shame is a funny thing, we feel it when we are guilty of some sort of ethical or moral breach, but when others are given the power to invoke shame in you, then isn’t their burden to be right or righteous even greater? Why punish your true followers for the acts committed by those who never believed in the first place?
I have always been protective of people I love and even at five my Mom was no exception. Being the sort of woman to never say a bad word about anyone, she rarely spoke up for herself and because she was the dutiful type, she believed that if a greater power told her she is wrong then it must be true. This left me to learn from her example in one of two ways, either accept what the leadership says is fact or fight and go with your gut. The church should protect the suffering, to offer peace of mind to those struggling with the harsh realities of life, not to use its influence to persecute those already faltering. Even in a bar fight, you know you don’t kick a man when he’s down.
What struck me as a desertion by the church my Mother loved and devoted her life to following, taught me at a very early age not to put my faith into man-made organizations. People can be counted on individually, but in a group dynamic the louder voices will be heard, drowning out the masses, thus ensuring a single-minded and selfish authority. The husband frequently points out that I rail against convention and authority more as a matter of routine than a true belief. There is some truth to that. I grew up watching a strong, honest woman put her faith into a corporate body that cared so little for her personally that when she was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 40 her priest told her to rejoice, for she might soon be joining the Lord. When you have two young children to raise on your own and you’re quite young yourself, these are not words of comfort.
Religion is not much different than a street gang or any other group of people with an organizational system in place. These people come together to assuage the feelings of being alone in the world and to know that there are others like them out there. Besides the guns and geographical location what makes a gang so different from a fraternity? Gangbangers and frat boys want someone to watch their back, whether it’s during a fight or a party. And what makes either of them different from Catholics or Methodists, or Jews or Muslims? It’s comforting to be part of a group and know you are not alone in the world. That is the function of any family, be it built on blood or belief system. My question, is if there is room to express your individuality within this family of believers. What if you are a gay Catholic? An anti-gun gang member? A recovering alcoholic fraternity brother? More importantly, is there even room to be “other” in a system that relies upon you being like everyone else?
For years after leaving Catholicism I made an effort to study other religions and to visit other churches to try to decide for myself if one was better than the other. The only thing I learned was that the most important aspect to each religion, was its own belief that it was somehow better than all the others. You can worship your God without doing it in a church. You don’t need someone to tell you how to believe or for that matter how not to believe. For me, it just didn’t work. Beliefs are personal and even if you never set foot into a church or open a Bible it doesn’t mean you cannot be a good person. Many religions, however, are founded on the principle that you must worship in a church, you must bear witness, you must . . .blah, blah, blah. If God is really that great, should it matter if you worship as a Catholic or a Muslim? Can you not be a good person or live a meaningful life without a church?
After all my years of searching, I am now an atheist and I’m pretty happy about it. There are lots of things in life to believe in, for me, religion and a God born from religion is not one of them. I believe in life, love, friendship, nature, universal energy, interconnectedness, charity, and forgiveness. To me those seem like pretty important virtues and if I can live my life and look back knowing I did the best I can and that I am a good person at heart, then I will have found more comfort than an hour a week in a pew could have ever have brought to me. My Mother was a good Christian all her life, but I’m not sure she ever truly lived.
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