Religion and Death

With the Christian celebration of Easter having just happened, I find this posting to be very appropriate.  

Death has affected how I practice my religion.  

Honestly, I don't really know what religion I am anymore.  

I was raised as a Catholic.  When I went off to college I questioned a lot about my faith.  Mostly I questioned birth control and the church's take on it.  Not because I wanted to have carefree sex, instead I wanted to be a responsible person and only have so many children.  I went and talked face-to-face with my college parish priest.   He told me what the church doctrine was...stuff I all ready knew...and then he said I needed to do what was right for me.  Taking my Catholic upbringing to heart I felt torn.  I would be living as a sinner because I choose to use birth control.  It was easy to turn away from the church shortly after that when my dad died suddenly.  My next questions were about how a loving god could hurt people so much.  I had no idea what emotional pain really was yet.  

Several years later I did join a new church.  I lived in a different town and had a young son and another baby on the way.  My husband and I migrated towards the faith he grew up in.  It was a Christian church and I felt welcomed into it's fold.  I felt inspired every Sunday.  I had found a part of myself that had been missing for too long.  When we moved again, I thought finding another new church would be an easy task.  Fort Wayne, IN has been called The City of Churches, but after trying 15+ churches of 30 I thought might work, I felt more frustrated than ever.  In the end we just attended the church where the kids went to pre-school.  It was the easiest thing.  Not the best reason for going to a church.  No inspiration, no connection, easy to leave when our next move happened.  

The church I am currently a member of is where my husband went as a youth, and my in-laws are still very active members.  We moved back to town and a week and a half later we joined the church.  The minister told me he was surprised we hadn't joined the week before!  No choice in where we went now!  

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Fast forward about eight years.  I had been feeling very uninspired at church and then my mom got sick.  I did find comfort in my ministers.  They are caring souls.  The church as a whole just doesn't do anything for me anymore.  Towards the end of my mom's life I did have several 'God is Here' moments.  I TOTALLY do believe in God.  I believe in spirits, angels and fate.

Read: What Time is Dinner in Heaven? for my take on what happened concerning the paranormal when my mom died.  

I am just not positive I believe in church, or even just one god anymore.  

I have been reading a lot about how the bible came to be.  Stuff written by historians and I think I am so skeptical anymore.  Too skeptical maybe.  

On Easter, I took a nice long walk in the woods and definitely saw God's good all around me.  At dinner that night I shared a meal with family and six international students, away from their families and from several faiths.  I try to be thoughtful, kind and considerate in all I do and raise my children to do the same.  

I have so many more thoughts on this subject matter, but I think I have gone on enough for one day.  

Old Churches...and Fate...

This weekend I went to an old Catholic church for a funeral of a great uncle who had almost made it to his 97th birthday.

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The church was unmarked on the outside. Only a large cross with a broken heart was planted near the door with a sign that read "For the Aborted Children." My husband and I had to ask some parishioners if we had the correct location. As we walked in the door it was like we were stepping back in time. The whole church felt like stuck in the late 40's. There was not a single bit of evidence of any improvements or updates. I went to a steel tank that was labeled 'holy water' and I pressed the tap to expel a small amount of water to bless myself. Old habits are hard to stop. Although I don't practice Catholicism any more, I feel a level of respect that must be paid to God and the church.

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This large statue of the Infant of Prague was on our left. This was my mom's favorite saint to pray to. I felt her spirit must be near by.

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The service was spoken in English by a Croatian priest. He looked a bit like Jimmy Kimble's parking attendant - Guillmo, and he sounded a bit like Andy Kaufman's character, Latka.

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The stain glass windows in the church were gorgeous. But seeing all the confessionals made me feel like we were in a religious prison. I was quickly reminded why I needed a different church in my life...the Catholic faith is too confining for me, too judgemental. I need to be mentally challenged, allowed to interpret the writings in the gospels, make my own choices, feel that all who worship God are good - not just those who practice like me.

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No blinders on...we are all God's people.

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Fate

I am a huge believer that things happen for a reason. A week ago while I was out walking I found a set of house keys. I thought they must belong to a child walking to and from school since I was near an elementary school when I found them.

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After contacting several of the parents whom I know have children who walk to school I decided to take the keys to the school office and go write a note on the sidewalk in chalk. While I was writing my note two men in a utility truck pulled up. I asked, half jokingly, if they lost a set of keys. The first man said no in a voice than said 'very funny' but the second man said, "as a matter of fact I did, about a week ago." He went on to describe the keys I found.

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That, my friends, is fate. It was meant to happen. I don't know why yet. Maybe that man just needed to be reminded that good is in the world. Maybe I just needed to be reminded that little actions can have big rewards. My reward was that wonderful feeling I am still having from knowing I was able to do something good for someone I don't know.