Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Why Do I Find This So Amusing?

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Losing My Religion










I am certain that my father loves me. I am equally as certain that he spends many of his waking hours disappointed in my decision to leave his church, his one true religion. The Catholic Faith. Oh Lord. He prays for me. it is not just my departure that disheartens him. He wishes I was a zealot. He prays and prays that I would become a weirdly devout Catholic. He wishes I was enthralled with his Church. He wishes I was having home masses and really digging the faith. He prays every night that I would at least go to Sunday Mass. I can't do it. It grosses me out.

I know that I am probably going to upset a lot of people (my throng of followers) with this blog. I want to emphatically state that I know a lot of good Catholics. I know a ton of them. I am alarmed by their decision to actively remain in such a glaringly hypocritical and money hungry institution, to continue to feed that monster. They all seem so smart otherwise.

The Catholic Church knowingly moved pedophiles to new parishes with brand new little boy victims. It has been documented. The Archdiocese of Boston's own Cardinal Bernard Law participated in cover up after cover up. It wasn't even a case of after the fact. His resolution to this pesky nuisance of grown men raping little boys was to re-assign the offenders. His actions made sure that different little boys -little boys my son's ages- little boys with trusting and pure hearts would soon be victims too.

That greedy Cardinal knew exactly what he was doing. He was protecting the reputation of the Catholic Church. God forbid a man of the cloth be taken to task-to atone for his sins. The Catholic Church might lose parishioners if this ever got out. Holy Cash Cow! That would mean loss of revenue. Would Cardinal Law's Watch Hill, RI mansion or the huge Commonwealth Ave residence in Boston be at risk? That could not be! Let the little boys suffer. Move along, Fr. Porter. How about a new town, Fr. Shanley? Try to be good. Try to control yourselves. Pray. If you find it all too compelling, for the love of God, be discreet. This is a business after all.

All that money that my parents put into those baskets over the years- that my father continues to empty his pockets into- has gone to pay off the church's multitude of sins. The sins of the fathers being visited upon the altar boys. After years of priest protection the abuse finally came to light-to public outcry. All these wrecked lives -for what? Some strange unholy encounters that robbed small boys of their innocence? It is horrific enough that this abuse happened at all but for men in power to be alerted to it and to ignore it is nothing short of obscene. It sickens me. It truly sickens me. How could I support such an institution? How can my father?

Obviously my father is not supporting the abuse- he is clinging to his faith. He is holding on to the only church he has ever known. The Catholic Church is broken as far as I am concerned and I cannot return. I believe in God. I believe in freedom of religion. I believe that anyone can believe anything they want-but don't make me!
Don't damn me to hell and for pity's sake please don't pray for my salvation.

Because I don't belong to a church does not for one minute make me a non-believer. I believe that God must have some damn good reason for giving man free will. He never should have done that. I can't wait to hear what he has to say about that. I am going to bring that up at our first meeting and then I am going to launch right into his distribution policy. I believe someday that it will all make sense which I guess means that I have faith, right?

I feel so lucky in this life. I don't feel blessed. If I was blessed that would mean that God likes me more. What about those unlucky chumps? Poor unblessed heathens,I don't care how they got there, born into a slum, no chance of an education...God must hate those folks. No! Isn't everyone blessed in some small way? Not really. Why did I get so lucky and this lady got handed the cataclysmic stick?









I met her on the streets of Dehradun in India. I would guess that she is about 10 years younger than me. She is poor and probably homeless. She has been reduced to begging on the streets because her 3 kids are starving. Where is God in this instance? She was so hungry and so were her children. I am never hungry unless I am on a diet or something.That is just embarrassing. These people live with hunger daily. I gave her 600 rupees(all that I had on me and at 48R to the dollar-not much).
You would have thought that I gave her the moon. How can something that means so little to me, petty cash really, make or break someone else?


She probably fed her kids for days with that. Owen, Enzo and I watched them walk right over to a fruit stand. She bought her two oldest children 2 apples each which they greedily received. She bought one for herself.They sat down under a tree. We left them alone after maybe staring too hard. She didn't look at me. She must have been mortified. Imagine.

I wasn't Pollyanna over in India. I didn't normally give out that many rupees at a pop, there was something about this woman's plight that moved me. I could not believe her lot in life. She will probably always suffer. She doesn't have a chance. Does she have faith? This sort of thing is the very stuff that tests mine.

The world balance is so lopsided. I work in a very posh, upscale Assisted Living Facility for the elderly in America. The dichotomy is nuts and not lost on me who has seen it all from both sides now. The three room suites are $8,900/month. Included in the price is an escort to and from the dining room. Three meals a day are served to these lucky rich elders by a waitstaff wearing uniform black vests, crisp white shirts, black dress pants and bow ties. Hardcover menus are handed out. Soup to nuts.

Along with the escort service we also provide laundry pick up and delivery. We turn down beds and make a few chatty visits throughout the shift. Babies die in the hot sun. Distribution, dear my lord, keeps honor bright.

The world balance is on it's ear leaving me little time to worship in a church. I want to think my own thoughts and form my own opinions.If I am sitting in a church reciting the same litanies week after week, letting the sheer repetition of it shape my ideology how on earth will I cultivate my one true religion? No, this is something I have to do on my own.

Just to strenghten my resolve I cannot think of a more boring way to pass a Sunday morning. Mass is boring! I get it-He has spoken through the prophets- how many times do I have to hear this? What about Christmas morning? Do you think that any child who has to wake up, get dressed in their itchy best clothes and walk by the fully appointed Christmas tree will enjoy sitting through mass? THIS is how you instill love of God into a child? Ha!

I am teaching my children to be good. I want them to be honest and kind. I want them to be confident and inquisitive. The Catholic Church-any church- squashes the idea of free thinking. When you "join" a church you agree to believe in a set of tenets.There is no room for debate. Take it or leave it. I just can't sit in a pew and repeatedly listen to something that I do not fundamentally agree with. That is free will. I have a lot of questions and no church is giving me any well thought out answers. They are regurgitating the party line. They will never go out on a limb-they can't, because it is written.

That is precisely my crisis of faith. I do not believe everything that I read. Honestly, I absorb it, and I think about it but I prefer to draw my own conclusions. I don't believe that is going to land me in hell. I don't believe in hell. No loving God could create such a place.

Okay, I am almost finished. I just want to add- and this is a small thing really- as I type I am suffering. I don't have cancer and I am not starving but I am needlessly suffering. Last Wednesday my left underarm started to itch. It developed into an irritating rash. The next day it started to blister and pools of fluid started weeping from my arm. I had 20 or so angry welts under there. They were small and they hurt like the dickens. When the other arm began to break-out I decided to seek medical relief-because I could.

I am now treating my condition with a 10 day course of antibiotics and an expensive cream. Thank God-yes. God allows ME health insurance,great coverage ,in fact. I just wish that he would be this cool with everyone. If I was one of the millions and millions of uninsured Americans (or: the 'Unchosen'& for whatever reason,the 'Unblessed') that tube of cream would have been $185.00! We only had to pay $30.00. What a deal. The antibiotics cost $20.00, the office visit, another $10.00.Horrible discomfort and $60.00. Why? Why? Why? Was this necessary? Is this some kind of sick prank by a loving God? Is this to keep me on track? What if this same thing happened to that lady in India? How on earth would she deal with it?




What about these kids all alone out there? Help me in my exhaustive disbelief. Shock and Awe to follow.