Sneaking Around on My Church

I am in the middle of an ongoing church-related conundrum and it is so front-of-mind that I feel as if I need to spill it so maybe I can just get past it.

I sort of want to ditch my church for another one altogether but I can’t and really I know I never will…but I think about it all the time.

My two good friends belong to a non-denominational church. When the three of us discuss the sermons at their church’s services, I get completely amped. It’s marvelous to be able to discuss scripture and faith in such an earth-bound, unstructured way. I attend some of the women’s workshops at their church and afterward – days afterward – I feel revitalized in my faith, motivated, and really happy. Connected.

But I can never, ever leave my Catholic faith or my church. It would be like changing my ethnicity, my ancestry, my culture, my identity. It is so much a part of my upbringing, my woof and warp. I could no more change it than I could change my name.

Starting tomorrow, your name is Elaine. OK, fine. But deep inside I know I will always be me. I can’t change that.

I love what Father Brian gives my children: A sense of authority, structure, importance, gravity, warmth. He is at their school every morning, greeting them as they walk through the gates, visiting their classrooms. Catholicism is a huge part of their education. I want it to feed them as it fed me at one time. The grandeur, the structure, the reverence, the feeling of being part of something huge – I want that for them, and I still do want that for me.

But.

I love attending mass. I love the buttons it pushes for me. But there is a huge place in me that craves that personal relationship with God that has sometimes eluded me. I think maybe I might need to just try harder with my church. Put myself out there more. Work for the connection that seems to come so easily with the other church. I really do know I have to, for my children’s sake.

Going back over this post I am annoyed at myself for using “I” so much. Maybe that is the problem overall. Too much “Me and I” in my faith-related thoughts. Maybe there should be more “We, they and us.”

There is a line in the movie "Milo and Otis" --

Milo: You're a strange-looking cat.
Otis: Oh, I'm not a cat; I'm a dog.
Milo: All right, a dog, I understand, but... deep down inside, we're all cats, right?

I think I am trying to say that I will always be a cat, deep down.