Who Knew... in Everything Else

I have not been a practicing churchgoer for several years now. I am a baptised Catholic, and went to church regularly for a long time. When our priest retired, the replacements just never clicked for me. I’ve thought about other parishes, but having been in those and left for one reason or another just never came to fruition. I am perfectly okay with not attending church and I don’t feel it makes me any worse or better a person. I don’t agree with 90% of the Catholic cannon and have a hard time accepting their edicts as they are not progressive and have shown very little movement towards anything that is not archaic bullshit and in light of their scandals, I hardly think they are the appropriate body to dictate how any person should live their lives. But I learned something on Christmas Eve.

My mother and I attended a candlelight service at a Presbyterian church. My aunt has ran their nursery for over 30 years. We picked her up and took her and we went upstairs for the service. Now, anyone who really knows me, knows that unruly children are hard for me to be around. Couple that with adults who talk and move about during a service and I am over the fucking roof.

We sat in the back because we were guests and did not know if people had certain places they sat. It is a small area. It is a large building, but the actual service area is quite small. There is a large gathering area at the back and bathrooms, libraries. I believe it was at one time a school of some sort, not a public or one of the catholic schools, but still a religious school.

I was absolutely appalled by the number of people who could not sit still. I get it, you have young children, they are probably tired, uncomfortable, out of their schedule. But guess what? There is a nice nursery downstairs where you can take them to alleviate their built up energy. There are toys, a nice big area to run around and a wonderful woman who is all alone down there! One lady let her toddler run up and down the aisle. At one point, during the lighting of the Christ candle, the child ran up with the family who was chosen to light the candle. You could not hear any of the scripture readers. Either because they talked to softly, to fast, or because of noisy children. There was a child behind us, with what I assume was her mother and grandmother and the grandmother was worse than the child almost. She kept laughing at her and talking to her and when the child started coughing, the grandmother mimicked her coughing as though it were a fucking game. I was beyond over this shit at this point. I could hear nothing. There were about a billion scripture readings, more music than Itunes holiday collection and kids and adults who cannot sit for an hour without having to get up and walk down the main aisle in the middle of readings, etc to go pee. WTF? I sat for years knowing there was no getting up and leaving until the end, after the priest had walked past. Also, no prayers. The, well what we call a homily, was the pastor reading articles from long ago and then a poem. I expect the pastor/priest to write his own homily read me two from years gone by and then read a poem. Oh and there were people taking selfies and filming parts of the service. One lady held up a goddamn ipad!

So what did I learn? That even though I don’t need or want the Catholic church telling me how to live my life and look down upon me because I am a woman, I appreciate their service, message and structure. My god the structure. I longed for a prayer, something meaningful to make me feel a part of something. Our former priest, God rest his soul, his head would have exploded with the crying, whining children and people getting up. He actually stopped services to tell people to take their children out. It was awkward as fuck for everyone, but much appreciated. I miss him. He would have conducted a candlelight service, with a powerful message. There was a point where I felt I wanted to reintroduce myself to something spiritual and faith based. But when I reflect upon the evening, the hour, I am better figuring that out for myself. Mom and I both agreed that that was not for us. The lack of respect these people had for others and for the message, and for that to be condoned by the pastor, not what I want for my time.