It's A God Thing

It's A God Thing

 

When did religion become such a negative thing? In this blog I’m not going to preach or prove things or judge people for the lack of or too much of or the wrong kind of religion. I am going to simply tell you my story and be honest like I do in every blog I write.

Growing up we went to church with our family. Just like the person down the street and up and down each block. My parents took me every Sunday and like every kid I would rather enjoy my weekend than wake up for church just to almost just to fall asleep hearing a guy up there talking about stories I just didn’t understand.  We prayed before we went to bed and before every meal. When I got older like most things I doubted stories people told me. I mean Santa and then the Easter bunny realizing your parents make mistakes....... anything was possible. I didn’t keep things in (as you can tell) I would ask my mom and dad with every question I had and in the end, ended up leaving my conformation class after disagreeing with the new pastor (who left after for alcoholic problems and a divorce) My parents surprisingly supported me. “You are old enough now to make that choice. Don’t go just to show up or show your face. You need to go because you WANT to.” My parents use to tell me. Ok easy…..I don’t want to go. FREE WEEKEND!

For all reasons and with no proof I should like most who has had bad experiences, left religion behind me. It would have been easy to do. Let’s face it, Jesus was not the coolest thing to talk about and faith and God became a myth with Santa, Easter bunny and the tooth fairy. Still I prayed. I didn’t pray to say Hail Mary’s (even tho I don’t know why you would say them) or the Lords prayer. I would pray like most people did at first. When shit hits the fan. When you are on the icy road and you’re scared and all you want to do is get home….”please God, please. Keep me safe.” I also would randomly talk to him. It was not in any formal way and I was sure I was doing it wrong. Some prayers started with….”Hey big guy in the sky.”  Lol But I always kept him in my life.

I would research other religions too. I wanted to know about the God or Gods others believed in. I mean would if I choose the wrong one? Would if I was born into a different family with different parents would I be religious or get taught another religion would that one be the wrong one and would God allow me to die because I was born not into non Christian family? Would my soul not be good then? I didn’t think so. I thought God was good. I knew he was.  I wanted to know about each Bible and other religions. I wanted to know about Buddha and the Khan. I wanted to know about old Gods and Goddess and the God a remote tribe in the Amazon. At the end no matter what place you were from “MOST” had a god who made them. They had a sense of right and wrong and how to live. No matter what the people do with that religion most was peaceful. The main core of most the teachings were to be peaceful and forgiveing. (I’m not an expert on religions but I did a basic history channel, book reading over view.) I thought… Maybe God  made and knew what he was doing and came to each person in the world in a different way but at the end of the day it was all the same.  Whatever way ,I believed in him.  It was something in the core of my being to know that is there. It’s something I couldn’t walk away or turn my back from.

As I got older I got closer to God. We had our chats. I felt left out not having a religion. I didn’t belong to people who didn’t believe because I did. In their eyes I was stupid and weak. (yes they have told me those exact words) I was put to test. Questioned and had to answer and me saying…”I don’t know I just believe.”  I couldn’t prove why so it was a problem to them. They called me a puppet and non-independent thinker. I was criticized because I had a child and not being married, so I couldn’t be religious. I had premarital sex and I was doing all these bad things so God couldn’t love me.   When I did talk about God to those who believed in him I wasn’t religious enough. I didn’t go to a church or belong to a religion. So I was kind of an outcast in both worlds.  I was not enough but too much. I didn’t care I kept the faith I had and believed because it is what I felt in my core was right and I didn’t care what others thought. BOTH SIDES! This was my choice. A number of years after I got a cross tattooed behind my left ear. It was a reminder of my faith and also something I thought was “cool” years after I got the last words of the “footprint in the sand” tattooed on my back. I loved that poem. It always reminded me of my personal relationship with the big man/women up stairs. Someone close to me said. “I don’t understand why you have religious tattoos on you. You don’t go to church so you can’t be religious.”  This pissed me off. If you did go to church that makes you a good Christian? I don't think so. If you are a true christian the first thing you would know was not to judge. I said… “You go to church every Sunday to show up. You go to pray. You go to get closer to Mr. Man up in the sky but I’m not saying I probably do need a refresher course but I believe. You are not more or less because you go or don't. It’s not your place to judge me or I you.” She just looked at me and said “yes it is” It made me sad that I couldn’t fit in. I didn't want to belong to a church that thought that way. Although my son was baptized catholic alongside my husband. I just didn’t belong. I didn’t want to just join a church for the sake of just going. That was defeat the purpose all together. This point it would be easy for me to walk away. Say forget it. I didn’t have anything to prove to anyone. But I couldn’t. I believed and I felt I had a personal faith I couldn’t explain when asked. So it’s not the coolest thing in the world. I just didn’t care.

Years past when I walked in to drop off my son to his religion class. I brought him because I wanted him to grow up knowing or being taught the basic things that I couldn’t teach him. It was important to my husband and me. After he was grown he could make his own choices but he had to start somewhere. I walked in the church and the Catholic Church and it’s both beautiful and intimidating. I didn’t belong there. It was then when I made a silent joke to the big guy upstairs of me probably bursting into flames when I ran into Father Keefe. This catholic priest reminded me of a mixture between Santa Claus and a Grandfather.  I had talked to him once before when my son was getting baptized. I turned the other way to avoid conversation. “Hello Stephanie.” I couldn’t believe he remembered my name. He asked if I needed anything and said we could talk sometime if it was ok with me. We set up a meeting. When I walked into his office he asked me to have a seat. We talked for a bit. I told him my dilemma and how though I wanted to belong I didn’t want to just jump into a religion I didn’t know anything about. He said it was ok. If I ever needed him for anything to just ask and he prayed with me and I went on my way. Every time after that when I came into the church for weddings funerals or anything else he would give me a hug and reminded me if he ever needed me.

About 3 years later I decided I wanted to know more about the catholic religion. It seemed intimidating but I was not a person to be persuaded or pushed into something so I knew this would be ok. When I called for Father Keefe the receptionist told me he was ill and I would have to speak with father Joe.  Great I found a jolly Santa priest and now I would have to start all over. I set up the meeting anyway. I walked into father Joe's office and sat down. He shook my hand and sat with me. “What can I help you with Stephanie?” I looked at him confused not having any questions ready for him. I simply said. “I don’t know.” He looked at me again puzzled. “Why did you come today?” He asked frankly. I looked at him and said again. “I don’t know.” I was sure he was ready to show me the door when I said. “Look I don’t want to waste any of your time. I have a lot of questions and as it would have it God is not really good at writing letters or sending e-mails so I don’t know how to get a hold of him.” He looked at me with a huge smile. He didn’t think I was nuts….first good thing. He laughed and said. “You’re really funny. Ok Stephanie ask me anything. Anything you want to know and I will do my best to try to answer your questions but first I want to know about you.”  I didn’t know where to start and I talk A LOT so I told him the basics and was sure not to leave anything out. I was sure now I would burst into flames glancing at my shirt every now and again to make sure. I told him the not so good stuff about me. I didn’t want to lie. I wanted him to reject me maybe. I kept talking and told him about my complete confusion about this whole thing.  I looked at him after and said. “So what do you think?  Goin to hell?” Again he laughs and said. “Well I don’t think this uniform gives me that kind of power.” I laughed to. Hmmmm a priest that jokes?   He said, “I think it’s brave of you to come in here and just tell me everything and be so honest with it. I think it’s strong of you to keep your faith when it’s easy to forget it. I don’t want you to join this church because someone you know is. Or you’re doing it just because you want to get married or use it for something . I want you to come because you want to be here. That’s why I’m so happy you are here. So often people come with a motive behind it. To show up at church to say they came. You want to be here, so far.”  I looked at him and said. “Well that’s the problem. I can’t believe in something I know so little about. I have this faith that won’t go away but I can’t just join something to just join. I need to know why you stand and kneel and do the cross movement. (I mimic it horribly) I need to know why you do what you do what it’s all about.” He looked at me trying not to laugh I think. “Ok Stephanie. Ask me what you need to know.” I asked everything. The stuff you shouldn’t I think. I asked about the reputation now days. (Priest and alter boys) I asked EVERYTHING. I didn’t leave anything out. I found myself when I was done passing around the room coming up with more and more questions. He sat there looking at me nodding.  All my questions about faith and why one religion would go to heaven but the rest to hell if you don’t choose this one or this one. When I was done I sat and slouched in the chair then said. “And I’m sure when I get to the car I will come up with 20 more questions.”  He looks at me with this huge smile on his face. I give him a frown….”So you guys don’t want me then?” He laughed again and said. “ok, Stepahine I have just the thing for you. I am going to send you to a class that will teach you the whys  and when and who’s and I hope that will answer all of these questions and more.  The class in once a week. If you feel at any time you want to leave and it’s not for you, you can leave at any time but I want you to come talk to me first and if you have any questions my door is open to you if there is anything you need. If this is not for you maybe I could just be some help for you in your quest for answers.”   Not so thrilled about the class's but I'm in. We shook on it. After leaving I felt relived.

The classes were amazing and I did raise my hand ALL the time and I did have to go to father Joe for some of them. The class was taught by a sister Jan who is amazing and still a dear friend. I have to say at no point did I ever feel forced into anything. At the end when at 28 I did get confirmed.  It was a very nice ceremony. It was humbling. He washed my feet in front of the whole church and I tried to talk him out of this saying feet were stink nasty but it was symbolism which I always enjoy. Jesus washed the feet of his despoils saying he was just a man and just like you or me. Father Joe did the same showing he was no better but just a man. I told father Joe my feet would stink as i tend to enjoy wool socks but it didn't faze him.  He laughed at me again and told me he was going to do it anyway. It was beautiful in the end. When we went through the old school ceremony I have to admit I did cry. More than cry I was kind of bawling. At the end I’m sure I will always be a little outside the box. I say things I sometimes shouldn’t like telling sister and father that Gay marriage wouldn’t be that big of a deal seeing as how God loves everyone. They never got into the politics but Father Joe hugged me and said. “That’s why I love you Stephanie.”  

In the end being catholic is not for everyone and I didn’t think it would be for me. They accept me and love me just the way I am. (and haven’t kick me out yet….so I think were still good.)

 Although they didn’t have all life’s answers for me I believe there are something’s we will find out when we die.  I believe it is your own personal thing that is just for you what you believe or not believe and part of just being a good person.  I think this world will always be full of good and bad people. Some people use religion to start wars or hate and sometimes they don’t but the point is doing what’s right for you. I have never tried to preach to people about the whys and how’s. I don’t want to judge a person on how they live their life or what they do. In saying that sometimes I get disappointed when the same respect is not given to me.

Am I the perfect Christian? NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not by a long shot.  But no one is perfect and I’m ok with that. And at the end of the day I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. I still talk the same to Mr. Man in the sky but I also have a few pretty meaningful prayers to go along with it. I may not ever fit into a box but I found some pretty amazing people along the way who love me just the way I am. And today after speaking to father Joe trying to find a church here (because we moved) joking around with him as always….”so if I can’t find one means I can sleep in on the weekends and just call you with any questions. You should really get a pager then I can get a hold of you. Do you text Father?”  It was good hearing him laugh at me again. “Ha, ha, Stephanie. I’ll look us some churches for you and see if we can find a good one. I miss you and Logan and Matt. Promise to come say Hi to me.”

It was good hearing him miss me. It was kind of like a family. So I guess even though God never called me back or sent me an e-mail when I was ready I found out just where I needed to be. It was then that I realized that bumping into Father Keefe that day was not a mistake. He was alive long enough to see me get up in front of the church and when I saw him after although he couldn’t speak then he gave me a wink. I could picture him saying…”I told you if you ever needed me.”  At his funeral I went up to his body and looked at this Santa, Grandfather of a man I thanked him. After I was confirmed I received a letter from the sisters in the convent in town. One told me she has been praying for me ever since she talked with father Keefe. When I realized how many years ago and what devotion that took I was humbled. It was good to feel accepted and loved just for the way that I am. That these people would believe in me and any choice I made and just love me for the way I am. I found where I needed to be. What felt right to me.

So maybe these days Jesus and God are not the coolest things to talk about. They are sort of like politics, a topic most will avoid. I hope that my son will have a relationship with God like I have. To know there will be doubt or questions but to allow him to make his own choices and love him regardless because that in the end is what it’s all about.

Father Joe and I