Oh the joys of having well-meaning Catholic parents. I don’t have a problem with religion or parents trying to do what’s best for their child. Yet, every child reaches an age where they start to make their own decisions. Once you become a legal adult, move out of your parents house and experience the world, you may find yourself with opinions different from your parents. Cohabitation is strongly frowned upon in the Catholic church and for some reason the church likes to complain about that more than the number of homeless, sick and suffering. I’m not hear to judge though, I’m here to tell you what happened when I told my parents I was moving in with my boyfriend. Believe me, I Googled for advice when I first made this decision and I would like to add my two cents. Maybe my experience can give you some good ideas on how to tell your Catholic parents you want to move in with your boyfriend.
We all know cohabitation destroys families, right? Clearing a person needs a shiny carbon rock and a scripted set of specific vows to create value and shelter life. All these heathens living without such things can possible be as strong as a Christian, heterosexual family?
The weekend after Christmas I traveled back home to visit family. Out of respect for my parents and grandparents, I attended Sunday mass with them on Sunday. It was the Feast of the Holy Family. The usual priest at this particular church is a pretty good guy, but he had a recent fall and was in the hospital. In his place was a different man who rubbed me the wrong way from the beginning. When he stepped in front of the congregation to give his homily, I knew I was going to disagree. For a while, I thought I was wrong. Everything he said I was agreeing with. Then, he ended his speech with this list of “violent attacks against the family” in our society.
There was a time I was really into my religion. I went to Catholic school and leaned on the idea of this deity who would bestow justice on the world. I think I once mentioned on this blog I made my brother cry when we were young when I told him of the torment he’d experience in hell for lying. Another time, I was panicked that my parents dared to go to church on a Saturday night instead of Easter Sunday (but then the priest said it counted. That made it okay). I had all the prayers memorized, all the actions, all the movements and all the ideas. In 8th grade, I was voted most likely to become a nun. Where did all these rules and traditions get me? I ended up far far away from the God I claimed to admire. Continue reading Religious Traditions Distract from Divinity
These days, I happily listen to Christian radio. This may seem odd since I don’t have a church I regularly attend and am not 100% sure the beliefs I hold at this point count as Christian. Furthermore, when I was into a religion, I hardly ever listened to Christian music. In fact, I’m not sure I even knew there was religious music outside of church hymns until I went to college. It was there I made friends with a self-proclaimed pagan, the first to raise my awareness of Christian music. Continue reading Is Christian Music Only for the Religious?