Every Sunday I go to church, alone. The same church I went to growing up. Let's start this way, with a definition of church...on second thought, let's not. I was raised catholic, and I still practice, kinda. I'm not sure if there is such a thing as a checklist to determine if I'm actually "catholic", but if there was, I'm not sure I'd qualify. The way I understand this, and if I'm wrong, please tell me, is that you are supposed to follow ALL of the teachings of the church and believe all the the beliefs. Well, i don't do that. I mean heck, I'm pro-choice, and i think that's a deal breaker.
As I became adult, the reasons I went to church changed. As a child, I went because I was told i had to. Plain and simple. that went on all through my life at home. When i was able to drive I still went to "church" but that involved meeting friends, usually girls(I have more girl friends than guy friends, I just do, always had) and we would go get ice cream or lunch, and go back to church and hang out until mass was over, then we went home. that's ok, right? Then in college, I still went, but not on a regular basis. After college, church became a time to reflect, I did a lot of thinking in church, my best work. I didn't really pay attention to what was going on, but I did get a lot out of my time there. Then my mom got sick, then better, then sick again, then she died. I have a friend who is a priest and when my mom was first sick, i talked to him. Well, honestly, I listened to him. I was in no shape for talking. I was doing lots of crying, I was scared, for mom, pops, me, my siblings. So he called me, I answered, he talked and I cried. He told me in his way, that she'd be ok. She did recover, my family got closer.
Then mom died, and I had a real problem with it. I was mad....at God. I think. I saw a lot of less worthy people, not as nice as my mom, not as good a person as my mom, who seemed to skate through life. Why did they get to live and not my mom?? Judgey, I know. I spent a lot of time alone, reflecting on this and why. My faith, whatever, helped me through this. It was a long and hard process but i got through it and came out a better man, at least i think i did. I was told by my friends that if that happened to them they would never go to church again. Really?? How do you know?? I hasn't happened to you. Don't presume to know how you'd react. Now, I wasn't mad, I understand they were trying to make me feel better, and i appreciated the gesture, however misguided.
My friends go to church because they have kids and they feel like they have to. I get that, I do. But here is why I go to church. I see some of my mom's old friends, and they always say hello to me, they tell me my mom would be proud of the man I became. I need that sometimes. I see my old school teachers, from grade school and high school. They ask how I am, I ask how they are. I see Miss Batty. She was the librarian when i was in grade school. I was a latch-key kid, and spent lots of time at the library. As she walks back from communion, she always stops by my pew and grabs both of my hands in her hands. See, I sit a few rows ahead of her, and we are too far away to shake hands. When mass is over, we walk out together, our arms locked as we walk and talk. Today she asked me if i remember the time she came up behind me and started to rub my shoulders and I yelled "MOLESTER!! MOLESTER!!!" at the top of my lungs. She and to put her hand over my mouth because the police station was in the same building as the library. I do remember that. We both laugh.
I don't agree with everything the church says. I'm way more liberal. I know that according to the church, that's not right. I know that church points me in the right direction, helps keep me honest, its my moral compass. It's easy for me to say, its too early, too late, too hot, too cold to go to church. But I drag my sorry ass out of bed, to try to become a better Brian. I fail. But, to borrow a line, I get up and do it again, Amen.
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