Losing My Religion
I’m leaving the Catholic church.
I got a tattoo when I was 50, and it’s a shamrock because that shape encompasses three parts of who I am: Italian (St. Patrick was Roman); Irish (duh); and Catholic.
But now, after 50 years as a Catholic, I find no solace in my religion. I think I need to find another place and another way to practice my faith.
A Long Time Coming
I have had my struggles with the Catholic church throughout my life. I think a good many religious and faithful people wrestle with religion, whether it’s the larger idea of the existence of God, or a rebellion against “the rules.” The subjugation of women, the tacit alignment with the religious right (in the United States), issues surrounding birth control, the LGBTQ community, and reproductive freedom, all gave me a lot of pause in my practice.
When the sex abuse scandal broke in the early 2000s, and as more continued to be revealed about the abuse and the coverups, it was — I don’t even have adequate words. Distressing, troubling, horrifying. Those poor children, those poor families.
But, ultimately, I stayed. One thing that helped me make that decision was Letter to a Suffering Church by Bishop Robert Barron. Specifically, this passage:
“In the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel, there is a scene of absolutely pivotal importance. Finding the Lord’s words concerning the Eucharist too much to take, the majority of Jesus’s followers abandoned him: ‘Because of this many of this disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.’ Turning to his inner circle, the tiny band of his most ardent apostles, Jesus said, simply and plaintively, ‘Do you also want to go away?’ The entire future of the Christian movement was hanging in the balance as Jesus awaited an answer. Finally, Peter spoke: ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life’ (John 6:66–68).”
I believe in God.
I believe in Jesus, the Son of God. I believe every word of the Nicene and the Apostles’ creed.
I believe the Eucharist is the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and every week in Mass we recreate the Last Supper.
I believe Jesus has the words of eternal life. I also like a whole lot of stuff he said about loving one another — how he replaced the 10 commandments of the Old Testament with two in the New Testament: Love the Lord your God with your whole being, and love your neighbor.
I still believe all of that. I will always believe all of that.
So, Why Now?
When gay marriage was legalized in the United States in 2015, I celebrated.
When, the weekend after, the priest at the Mass I was attending spoke out against the law during the homily, I gathered my children and I walked out of Mass.
I suspected then what I know now: That the Catholic church’s view toward and treatment of their LGBTQ+ members would break me.
I can no longer straddle the contradiction of “love the sinner but not the sin.” I cannot accept that the Catholic church wants me to believe homosexual romantic desire and love is “inherently disordered.” I cannot participate in good conscience in an institution that says it loves and accepts all its members, but doesn’t want them to live as their full, authentic selves. Catholic institutions won’t celebrate committed unions between two consenting adults unless they are both cishet, one man and one woman, and they certainly won’t embrace transgender members unless the trans people continue to live in the sexual identity assigned to them at birth.
And I just can’t do it anymore. To do so would hurt people I love, would deeply injure them.
(My family was recently deeply hurt by a Catholic institution regarding all of this, and if I seem to be dancing around the details, it’s because not everyone’s story in this story is mine to tell. If you know me, you know. And if you don’t, you’re just going to have to take this at face value.)
To Whom Shall I Go?
I don’t know the answer to this question.
I was baptized into the Catholic church as an infant; I have stopped practicing my faith in the past, and I have returned to it — prayer and returning to Mass saved my life; and I’m leaving again. When I die, I will die a Catholic in my heart.
In the meantime, I will seek out another place to pray and practice my beliefs. I will live my life trying to put good into the world. I will love my people. I cannot help but do anything else.
