I'm an Angry Catholic

No, that title doesn't sound quite right. I'm a questioning Catholic. And Lordy, Lordy, have I got a lot of them! In fact, our priest calls me "The Interrogator".

You know you are in a Catholic home, when there's a cross over every doorway, and a picture of Jesus, Joseph, Mary, The Pope, or Mother Theresa in every room.

My parents gave all three of us kids a strong Catholic foundation: going to mass every week, dropping a few bucks in the collection plate, enduring the eternal, and never ending boredom of CCD, celebrating the sacraments, etc. Honestly, I find comfort in a lot of the symbolism in my faith: the two Mary's (who totally rocked it back then), the angels and Archangels, and of course, JC, himself.

I grew up a "Cradle Catholic", and received the Sacraments on a pretty timely basis: got baptized as a babe (thanks Mom and Dad), had my First Confession at age 8 (SERIOUSLY, sins at age 8?), went through Confirmation at age 15 (when you actually declare you WANT to be a Catholic, VS going to mass at gunpoint, with your family...KIDDING Mom and Dad), and finally, was married in the Catholic Church.

I learned the rote prayers growing up: The Our Father, The Hail Mary. But I was never really taught HOW to talk to God. You know, just like, have a conversation with the Big Man. "Hey God, I'm feeling really overwhelmed down here right now. Do you think you could possibly hook me up with more alcohol, less children, or possibly both?"

I knew I was in over my head, when after deciding to give our girls the same Catholic foundation my husband and I grew up with, I started to question my faith BIGtime. As a child, I just blindly followed the religion.

But now as a parent, I started having all of these questions. Right before the twins were about to make their first confession, I set up a special meeting to talk to our Priest, Father John (think Thorn Birds). Our conversation went as follows:

Me: John, (contrary to popular belief, you can call a priest by his first name... cool, huh?) I'm not exactly down with the whole Confession thing. WHY do we have to come confess to YOU, instead of just going to God?

Father John: Gives full explanation which I won't bore you with here.

Me: Okay John, well, do you know the LAST time I went to Confession? About THIRTY years ago, when I made MY First (and last) Confession! I mean, what could I possibly have to confess? (notice the golden halo above my head)

Father John: (handing me a list of Mortal/Venial sins to help me refresh the ways that I have sinned for the last 3 decades) Here, this should help.

Me: Okay, I've done #2,7,9,33. Okay, but #41? Masturbation, John? Come on John! Come on! Seriously, John? MASTURBATION is a SIN?!!!

Father John: It's a VENIAL sin, not a mortal sin.

Me: Thanks for the clarification...you're killing me here, John.

After Father John talked me off my high horse, I began to realize that yes, I have most definitely sinned...A LOT. So I bit the bullet. I humbled myself, and had the second confession of my life right there in his office.

Not in some little dark room, with a curtain covering my face in shame. I guess after screaming out the word MASTURBATION at least 3 times, it was safe to assume, we might have well just do the deed face to face.

Poor Father John. I still think back to that day, wondering how I didn't scare the hell out of him. But I think he actually liked it. He liked my passion, and my brutal honesty, and he liked my questions. I am still not totally convinced about Confession, but I try to remain "open" to the possibility of an act that may make me a better person, ya dig?

As my third daughter prepares to go make her First Confession, I've come to a place in my life, where I feel at peace. I like to think of myself as 10% Catholic, and 90% Spiritual. What does that mean, you ask? I am open to all religions...to the teachings of all Ascended Masters... to what works to bring peace and harmony for everyone, everywhere, around the planet.

JC is the dude for me, but if Buddha works for you, I am totally down with that. What upsets me off beyond words, are the "Christians" who condemn others by declaring, "If you don't believe in the Lord, Jesus Christ, as your personal savior, you will burn in the eternal pits of Hell!"

Or what about if, GASP, here I go, I'm gonna say it...you are a HOMESEXUAL?! Well, then, that's just a no stops, guarantee that you will be meeting Satan face to face.

Really? Seriously? Self-righteous, FEARFUL, "Christians", you really believe that? It's at this point, I have to physically hold back from throttling these hypocrites around the neck...don't think my main man, Jesus, would approve of THAT behavior.

You know what I believe? A loving God (or energy, or higher power, or whatever you choose to call it) doesn't judge, and loves unconditionally. Even when we mess up. Even when we aren't loving. Even when we are struggling to make the right decisions.

In the end, this is the God I believe in. And whether he's Catholic, or Christian, or Buddhist, really doesn't matter one lick! It's who I am as a person, and what I do while I am here, that REALLY matters.

So I try, but I struggle, And I question. But I'm okay with it. Because I have felt the presence of God. I see God everyday when I look at my precious girls. And I feel God everyday when my husband loves me unconditionally, with all of my countless flaws. I have experienced the miracles of God on so many levels.

We are ALL worthy of love. And so I try to "check myself" pretty regularly: Am I loving myself right now? As much as I should? As much as God does? Are the words I say about myself and others the same words the Big Man would use? Am I loving others openly? Completely? Vulnerably? I strive for it...but am far from perfection.