My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind.
~ Albert Einstein
I've been waiting to write this post for a long time. It has taken years for me to feel comfortable with my spiritual uncertainty - and more importantly feeling confident that there is nothing wrong questioning and exploring where I belong. Religion is so deeply entwined in my maternal family system - it is a unifier despite everything that divides us. To step out and proclaim I'm not Catholic is to face fear of rejection.
Over the years, I became to believe there are many paths to spirituality - each one personal. What is most important in my opinion is whatever spiritual path taken is chosen out of free will. For me, faith and religion are two different concepts. Faith is my own personal experience with a higher power and religion is a choice to express your faith with a like minded community - no one community's philosophy more right or wrong than another.
I had a couple of experiences in the last number of weeks that made me realize I'm ready for coming out. For one, I changed my Facebook religious affiliation from "It's complicated" to "Agnostic." The most notable experience happened two weeks ago when I landed in the hospital for a couple days.
I was watching TV when a kind man came and asked if I would like to receive communion. The old me would have taken communion to avoid disapproval and scrutiny. Instead I did something earth shattering: I told the truth and said I didn't want to take communion because I wasn't sure what I believe anymore.
It wasn't that I was opposed to the act of communion. Instead, it came from a place of respect for the sacrament and what it meant to receive it. I knew I am not in the right place for that presently. I also declined out of respect of forging my own path.
The man was taken aback and assured me of course I was still Catholic - since I had been baptized. He told me all I have to do is make a re-commitment to God and go back to church. I didn't argue with him because I'm actively trying to practice my assertive right to "offer no reasons or excuses to justify my behavior." He didn't realize the path I'm on is because I have made a commitment I have made to my own spirituality to express it in a way that makes me feel whole and at peace with a Higher Power I'm not sure how to define. Who knows - by the time I have found my spiritual voice I might land right back where I started.
Beginnings
I was raised Roman Catholic. Baptized, First Communion, Confession, Confirmed and Married in the Catholic Church. I've had CCD classes, 8 years of Catholic elementary school, and 4 years of an awesome Catholic Youth Group in high school.
I was the girl you wanted on your team for bible trivia games. I was the girl who lit a candle in front of the Virgin Mary and prayed every night to be May Crowning Queen in 8th grade (and got it). I proclaimed at age 5 that I was going to become a nun. I became an alter server within seconds of it being allowed. I was a lector and a choir member.
But for as much as I threw myself full force into my religion, I have questioned it as far back as I can remember. Most notably in 2nd grade when in the middle of a math lesson I blurted out the most urgent of questions: "Miss Teacher? Do Jewish people not go to heaven because they are not Catholic?" She re-assured me that Jewish people are Gods chosen ones and of course they go to heaven.
From that point on, I wondered if it would be better to be Jewish since they were already chosen. From my point of view, I was always in limbo of going to heaven or not depending on how well I followed the rules.
The idea of being religious enough became an obsession. I was constantly in fear that the devil was going to snatch up my soul. I'd make up these little criteria - these circumstantial events that were not in my control - and if they happened, then it meant I would lose my soul. For example - if while in the car, if the light turned red before we passed it, then I would be forever damned. And if I failed this impossible test of chance I would worry for days if it was true that I had just lost my soul. I would pray constantly until I felt re-assured
Fear of damnation caused other tics as well. If I was scared at night, which I often was, I would frantically rattle off a series Hail Marys. I was convinced I could bank enough of these prayers to save me if I died. I slept with a rosary clutched in my fist thinking it would ward of evil spirits. I was afraid to look in the mirror at night for fear the devil would appear. I was equally afraid that I would be caught off guard with an apparition of Mary or Jesus himself. I would pray for them not to pop out and scare me.
Some of these tics followed me into adult hood. I still make the sign of the cross before getting on the freeway or making a tricky left hand turn. It took me until my late twenties to be OK with looking into a mirror in the dark. And if I'm on a bumpy plane ride, I still rattle off Hail Marys - hoping to get enough into my prayer account to get my way into the pearly gates if we crashed.
Expanding Horizons
High school was the first time I was around peers following other religions - Mormon, Christian, Jewish, none and others I'm sure. They viewed my beliefs just as skeptically as I viewed theirs. More importantly, these people became my friends and I knew they were beautiful souls. This was around the time I started to believe it didn't matter what religion you followed as long as you were a good person who believed in.
There were a couple of friends who didn't believe in God at all - one proclaimed one day that when he died he was going to be god of his own heaven. Some tried to convince him otherwise while he stood his ground. I just stared mouth wide open, surprised that thinking this way was in the realm of possibilities. Most of all - the way he stood by his belief system in the midst of high school peer pressure made him a personal hero in my book.
In college I took an Asian Studies class and learned about Tao and about Buddhism. I really enjoyed this class and found myself identifying with principals of these religions so foreign to me. Around this time, the priest at our church was starting a class looking at religions of the world. I mentioned I'd like to go to this and my mother looked at me as if I sprouted devil horns and a tail on the spot.
While finishing my masters degree I was able to visit Hong Kong and went to see the
Tian Tan Buddah. Watching the people go through prayer rituals there was amazing to me. I felt so much spiritual peace there and soaked it up. The only other place I have felt similar is at San Xavier Mission a few miles away from my house.
Losing my Religion - Gaining Spiritual Voice
Over the years, while I still went to Catholic Mass, I felt my self slipping away from the stead and fast rules of my childhood. Some rules were part of the religion, but most were unique to the way I was brought up Catholic. I struggled with the inconsistencies of what parish leaders told me compared to what the Vatican said, compared to what my mother taught, compared to what was in the media.
In my mid-twenties I realized I could easily rattle off what others believed and what I "should" believe, but I didn't have the foggiest of clues how I really felt. This extended in all areas of my life. Seeking out my own understanding of spirituality is part of the process of defining my own standards.
Diverting from the church going, rule following Catholic I had been is a difficult process. Much of my identity had been tied to what a “good” Catholic I had been and I want so desperately to be viewed as “good.” Not only do I need to re-write this part of my identity, I also need to believe that it is the right thing for me to do and be confident enough to not allow other people's judgment (perceived or real) to thwart me from my mission.
One of my biggest concerns was how I was going to give my child a sense of God and belonging without being a member of a religious community. I use to believe I needed the church to do that - probably because it was through the church and school that I truly learned about faith. The plan at present is to just be honest with our son about our beliefs, give him the freedom to develop his own, and teach him to be tolerant of a variety of ways to worship. My husband and I are opened to joining a religious community if find one we both feel comfortable with. That's a big thing for me - to have faith exploration be a family affair we happily celebrate together.
Now a days, I am feeling confident in the space of unknowing and exploration. I feel closer to God than I ever have and I believe that is because I'm using the gift of free will to seek out that closeness. I am truly appreciative of my religious beginnings and those special people who influenced me to never stop seeking answers.
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