Last week I decided to write a book. I finished a chapter. Will it actually be chapter one? Will it make it to the final cut? I have no idea. I also have not really gone back and edited this so if it does make it into the final book, it may look different. But I decided posting pieces of my writing while I work will help me stay accountable. So, enjoy!
I do not remember my baptism, but then again, this is true for most Catholics. I do, however, remember finding Mass extremely boring and the communion wine disgusting. At least the wafers were decent enough. Until eighth grade, Catholicism was a significant part of my life. Every Sunday morning consisted of sitting through an hour of mass where everyone would sing out of hymn books and recite creeds I did not understand and a guy named Father Tim in some snazzy robes would talk about things above my young head. Then for the next hour, it was off to Sunday school with kids my age where the teacher, who was usually someone’s mom or dad, would teach us how to be Catholic. There were routines and rules. As a kid I loved and craved structure and this place, while boring, provided it.
The problem is, my experience was that Catholicism was structure without substance.
I am going to take a quick pause in the story. In recent years, Catholicism has re-emerged as a hot topic in recent years and I want to clarify a few things before moving on. I am not writing this to make any sort of accusations against the Catholic Church or speak for the entire system. This is all only based on my personal experiences within the particular church I attended, as well as a few other people, such as my dad and his side of the family, and my boyfriend, among a few others. I do believe based on my experiences a lot of Christians not affiliated with Catholicism have a lot of misconceptions about it, with some even believing Catholics are not “saved” or not “true Christians” (this will come up more later!). In my experience, I do not believe this to be the case. The core of Catholicism is the Gospel, though they have a few traditions different from many other Christian branches and sometimes these traditions and structures are focused on so much and lead to the relational piece to be overshadowed. This is what I mean by it was structure without substance. And… resume!
In my experience, being Catholic meant knowing things and following rules. In Sunday school we learned about some of the (age appropriate) stories in the Bible like Adam and Eve. My sister once had an assignment where she needed to draw the story. As she asked my parents and I for help, my dad let slip a crucial piece of the story her Sunday school class felt five year old children did not need to know; Adam and Eve were originally naked!
I am not sure if my parents let her turn in her ‘more accurate’ drawings and if they did, I do not know how the church responded, however as a seven year old at the time with an impeccable memory, the images of a five year old’s attempt at nude artwork are forever burned into my brain. I will spare you the gruesome details but let’s just say the anatomy was not exactly accurate and even when it got to the scene where Adam and Eve are ashamed and covered themselves with leaves, there were too many ‘parts’ still on proud display.
But I digress.
In addition to some of the Bible, we also learned about some of the saints, mostly ones who were in the Bible such as Mary or Peter. Saint Nicholas was also brought up a lot because Santa Claus! And then there was the time a girl got into a debate with Deacon Ron about Mother Theresea. He said she was not a Saint and the Catholic Church would likely never name her one because of too much controversy. She said she would be a saint someday. On September 4, 2016 I bet Deacon Ron felt awfully silly.
Knowing things mattered, but what seemed to matter more was knowing the rules on how to be Catholic. We learned when to stand, when to sit, when to kneel, when to sing (to be honest I always just pretended!). We memorized the special prayers and creeds and began learning about the other parts of being a Catholic. One of the earliest memories I have of this was learning about the seven sacraments. For those who do not know about Catholicism, they believe there are seven holy sacraments, some of which all Catholics are expected to receive, while some are a special calling or privilege. They are: baptism, reconciliation, communion, confirmation, matrimony, holy orders, and anointing of the sick. This is the typical order in which these take place, but again, not everyone gets all of them and sometimes things can go out of order. For instance anointing of the sick takes place when someone is extremely ill, as in likely going to die soon. The priest annoints them with oil and prays over them. But sometimes people make a recovery and live out the rest of their life. And matrimony only takes place if somebody gets married and holy orders is when someone joins the clergy. In Catholicism, only Deacons, who are basically the assistant to the priest, can marry so most people only experience one of these two sacraments.
Baptism typically takes place shortly after birth because many Catholics believe being baptized is a necessary ticket into Heaven so if somebody dies unbaptized they are out. They do not necessarily go to Hell if they are young or never heard the gospel though. They end up in Purgatory, which is sort of seen as this inbetween or limbo. It is not necessarily bad but it also is not where someone wants to be. As a seven year old learning about these things, I remember wondering why God would make not getting dunked in water keep a baby out of Heaven, but as I already stated, I craved rules and structure so I went with it. Besides, I was safe!
We spent a lot of time in second grade learning about reconciliation, which is when a person goes into a special little area the size of a closet and tells the priest what sins they committed and then the priest tells them what their penance is. It all felt so serious and formal but I also never really understood why kneeling and saying two Hail Marys would make God forgive me for getting into a fight with my sister, but again, I went with it. Communion came next and was a huge event. We spent weeks going over and practicing how to receive the bread, which was just some flavorless little wafer, and the wine. For the wafer we would go up to the priest and could either hold out our hands in a special way or receive it on our tongue, which when you are seven feels way too silly and I knew I would not be able to do it without laughing so I opted for the hands. Then it was to the wine cup where the deacon would hold it out to drink from and then wipe it and rotate it for the next person.
The wine scared me far more than the wafer because as a child I was incredibly picky, to the point where my parents worried I had some kind of eating disorder. I kept telling them I was worried about gagging in front of everyone from the wine so they had an idea; how about you practice here at home? So my dad handed me the glass he had been drinking with dinner and I anxiously took a gulp. My mom always jokes about how she will never forget the face I made when the taste hit my tongue. She did not see it for long though because I had to beeline to the kitchen sink to profusely rinse out my mouth. Over the next few weeks, I tried a few more times and slowly got a little better.
When the morning finally arrived, I got all dressed up. The boys wore suits and ties while the girls wore these white dresses and when I look back at photos now, all I can think of is how I looked like a child bride with all of the decorative beading. When it was time, our class all got in line with me somewhere in the middle. The wafer took me by surprise because it was awfully dry and got stuck to the roof of my mouth but there was no time to do anything about it. I got my sip of wine, which was much sweeter than whatever my parents gave me, but I still was not a fan. I at least managed to keep my composure and it helped the wafer go down. Thankfully after it all my dad told me from then on, the wine was not required and I could skip it. I did not understand why taking only part of the sacrament still counted but I was not about to question God or the church on this one.
Confirmation typically comes next. This takes place in 8th grade for most people and is essentially a declaration of faith. My dad told my sister and I about how he did this when he was younger and about his experiences as an altar boy and how when they were done serving, he and his friends always chugged the remaining wine and never got caught. I was always appalled by this because of how gross I found the wine. But back to confirmation, I never did this one. In eighth grade, we stopped going to the Catholic Church. For about six months we just went nowhere. On the one hand, I was happy to be free getting up to go to boring Mass but at the same time, it felt like something was missing. But then again, my church experience never really seemed completely fulfilling.
Looking back now, I understand why it felt unfulfilling. As I mentioned earlier, in my experience, Catholicism was structure without substance. Sure I learned the routines and learned about the stories and about the people, but there was no relationship. Knowing about God is not the same as knowing God. In college I heard a sermon where the pastor compared it to our interactions with the President. We can look up all of the facts about the President but if we show up to the White House unannounced it will likely not go over well. Knowing their birthday or favorite color is not the same as having a personal relationship with them. And with God, we need the relationship piece and there are ways to cultivate it. In eighth grade however, I did not understand this relational absence yet. The only absence I noticed at the time at church was my mom’s.
If you’re intrigued by this post and looking forward to what I’ll write about in the future, you can expect a new post at some point in the future. Also, if you feel inclined, feel free to leave a comment below about what you think. Thanks for all your support and I hope you’ll come back the next time I post. Stay Amazing!