Faith Matters

My Faith is becoming like the rest of my life. I don’t know where I fit, and worse still, I don’t know any longer where I want to fit. I think I have been reading too many spiritual books and have reached overload, to the point where I don’t know what I think or believe. I like many things I read, I agree with much of it and I see that much of it has in common. Rather than choosing different frameworks, I feel comfortable accepting them all as valid and am highly interested in how they are constructed. I see so much potential for them to interlink and enhance one another, but my lazy, messy brain prefers to just take it all in rather than organise it in any way...
For some reason I call myself a Catholic. Perhaps because I was baptised Catholic or perhaps because I was sitting in a Catholic church in Edinburgh waiting for my friend to come out of confession (I had gone to give her moral support as this was a big deal for her), staring at an icon of a Saint, when a big rush of energy came down upon me and filled me with a sense of the Divine and a need to get closer...Some might call this the Holy Spirit, whatever it was, it was a very tangible feeling and not of my own making. I started going to Church again, I started reading everything about the Divine I could lay my hands on. It became a way of curing me of the depression I had been suffering from.
But there were things I didn’t like. Especially in my interactions with a certain Catholic friend of mine who was delighted I was going to Church. (Even though she didn’t go to Church herself, but this is not a discussion of her faith, is it?) She used to talk to me in a delighted, patronising way when we brought up our beliefs and found we differed, saying “Oh you’re only at the start of your journey now, but someday you’ll understand the Truth about this” As if our belief systems would homogenise when I “caught up” with her.
Or “Oh I know you don’t want to think this is true, but I have read all about it.” Yes but where did you read it? Did you read the other side of the story?
Sometimes I was afraid to bring things up because it seemed as though they had to pass muster with her. She seemed pleased that she had someone as part of her club now, but displeased when I didn’t conform to the membership rules. “Yes, very good you’re saying the Rosary. Ooh I like this book you’ve given me but what’s this? It has the word occult in it. What do you mean, it’s in a different context? Oh, hmm I’m not sure, yeah yeah whatever. What, you don’t believe in the Devil? Oh, no, his trick is working on you, he’s fooled you, he wants you to think that he doesn’t exist, that’s how he gets his power. Oh I’ve read all about the Devil and I’ve talked to priests who did exorcisms, I know all about it.”
The one highly offensive thing she said was to suggest that the reason I had had a nervous breakdown and suffered from depression was because I had been reading about Taoism and had visited lots of Hindu Temples while in Bali the previous year. I had been “possessed by a spirit of depression” because I had left myself open to it. I was furious. What utter mumbo jumbo! What an ignorant denigration of everything that I had been through to bring me to that point.
It didn’t put me off though, I just stopped taking religious conversations with her seriously anymore and focused on the more frivolous aspects of our friendship, of which I am delighted to say there are many and which make her a very enjoyable person to have around on so many other levels. I took into account that we are all brought up differently and that even if she can’t respect my outlook, it is a very big part of my moral code that I can allow her to have hers.
I still went to Church spasmodically, I read voraciously - Julian of Norwich, the Big Book of Women Saints, C.S. Lewis, St Theresa of Avila, St Therese of Lisieux. I said the Rosary for a while until I felt there was no substance in my prayers and I wanted something else to happen before I could go back to it. I still prayed regularly...I went to Church even less, but still kept involved in my faith. I kept it very private though, like it could be hurt if I revealed it to anyone. I would say to someone if it came up that I had faith, but I didn’t discuss the substance of it. Partly because I wasn’t quite sure yet what it consisted of, besides a belief in God, and also because no one would really ask me what it consisted of once they had garnered this information. They would usually just presume that they knew exactly what I believed and would go on about Catholicism and organised religion and kiddy-fiddlers and there would be nowhere to go with the discussion because I would be in complete agreement about the organised religion bit and I wouldn’t find the words to explain how my attraction to the mass and the sacred space of the church is a very private and mysterious thing for me that I don’t fully understand.
The other thing was “How can you take drugs and be a Catholic?” I can’t answer that, I just do and its no one’s business except mine and God’s. I feel that God will accept me as I am and that as I engage with him my soul will sort itself out slowly through his will as long as I remain open. And that has definitely been the case. My lifestyle has subtly altered, I just don’t seem to be taking anything or even drinking very much over the last few months, and this is without my having to make any grand sweeping gestures that can just as immediately be gone back upon.
I went to a Catholic Youth Group last week which another devout friend of mine had been organising and I wanted to support her. This friend is very open and accepting of other people’s beliefs, she is interested and asks questions and yet maintains what she believes when she needs to without any defensiveness or self-righteousness. It was a lovely mass and afterwards I had a tea with the other young people. They were all very nice, but unfortunately as I am used to having a good joke with my friend over these matters, I may have overestimated their capacity for humour about the Pope when I said he looked like a “Scary Old Rascal” (in a nice way!) and mused over how different it must have been for him presiding over the Youth 2000 conference in Australia in comparison to the Hitler-Jungend rallies he attended in his youth!
I was unlucky enough to fall in conversation with a girl that even my friend finds “difficult” as she explained to me later. I made it clear to her that I had been joking and I listened with great interest to her defence of the Pope, to the extent that I was glad I had made my joke otherwise I wouldn’t have heard an alternative viewpoint to all the negative stuff we hear in the media (which can hardly be objective for, after all, the Church is hardly fashionable). At first it was all very pleasant, we mused on how lovely it would be to have a “Good News” program on the tv which reported all the nice things that people do for others. I then started talking about the Carolyn Myss book that I have been reading which is full of lovely stories of services and good deeds people have done for others, all organised and defined around each chakra.
That word was enough to bring the conversation to a halt, she was no longer listening to what I was saying. She tensed up and said she had to warn me that “Chakras are dangerous. That’s all New Age stuff. I just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t warn you.” I knew where this was going, I felt myself clamming up immediately, I didn’t want to discuss this and yet I gently tried to explain that chakras are merely an ancient way of understanding how energy moves around the body and that it stems from forms of Eastern spiritual practice that are far older than Christianity. Her face remained blank as if to say “So what?” “Take Hinduism for instance, Brahman/Vishnu/Shiva are a trinity just like God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit. It’s so interesting to see how these religions are interrelated. And I love learning about all the different frameworks other cultures use.”
“I don’t understand how you can believe in two religions at the same time” she looked disgusted and I couldn’t think straight because something in me was hurting. I ended up backtracking and saying that while I chose to practise Catholicism, I still liked to read about other cultures religions. Or something to that effect. It wasn’t quite the truth but at the time I just couldn’t do justice to my thoughts.
You see I guess I reckon I was naive in thinking that as young people they wouldn’t be all caught up with the organised part of it and just saw Catholicism as a meaningful way of practising their spirituality. I guess I saw hope for the Church to reenter the world in a way that does not scare or exclude people, that allows them a sense of humour and mischief, that moves with the times and responds to people’s needs in the here and now, reevaluate things so as not to press any undue guilt on people. I think I am silly to expect that, and I am not saying that certain standards shouldn’t be adhered to, but to have to confess playing with yourself in the confessional, as if that were a sin!!!
It scares me how ignorant they are about the history of their own religion and of the wider mythological, historical and anthropological contexts in which it has evolved. I am but scratching at the surface and I can already to see that the belief systems they revile are far closer to them than they think. It scares me that they can’t think for themselves. It saddens me that their close-mindedness undoes alot of the good work their devotion to goodness could otherwise accomplish, let alone the fact that it puts other people off having faith or becoming involved in the Catholic faith in any way.
It has definitely put me off. Something about that conversation has hurt me and I can’t put my finger on it. It has probably hit on a wider sense of not being able to find somewhere that I belong. At times I feel trampled on by both the atheists and the believers. They each seem as closed-minded as each other, certain words seem to unleash diatribes that have no bearing on the subtleties that are working themselves out inside me. (That, or I have a lazy mind. Part of my reason for writing this is to see if I can clarify things for myself somewhat.) They keep trying to pigeon-hole me, or get me to explain something which is as yet not intellectually tangible for me.
My faith is so important to me, it is a huge part of my life, but not as something I subscribe to and fit myself around. It is a growing entity in itself, like a child I do not yet know who it is. I know what interests me, what resonates. It is gradually showing me a more positive way of perceiving and interacting with my world, and I am becoming more and more aware of when I fail to do justice to my better self, but also happier when I find opportunities to do just that.
I guess it’s about my private relationship with God and not any religion. I see him in every belief system, in every sacred space, in every person. There are so many way of communing with him, so many forms of meditation, of prayer, of worship, so many theologies. And they all seem to intersect in fundamental ways. Another day I want to write a bit further about this topic, to explore in a more positive way what exactly it is I do believe, what makes sense to me. The big question I am left with this week though, is “Is it necessary for me to be a Catholic? Or am I trying to find a home in place where I do not really belong?”