oh jesus.

*Caution! Personal baggage ahead! Proceed with caution!*

I was born and raised Catholic. I’m not Catholic anymore. I mean, I don’t know how one formally goes about deCatholic-ing oneself short of getting excommunicated, but I think I’ve done a pretty solid job of breaking the ties. I do not (and will not) go to church, barring the following situations:

1- a wedding that I’m invited to attend or asked to be in

2- a funeral

3- if my Mom cries or acts like she might jump off a tall building onto a bed of broken glass and swears the only thing that will stop her is if I go to church with them on [insert holiday]. my sister calls this being a “Chreaster” (pronounced cree-ster) because it means you’re basically a Christmas and Easter Catholic.

I disagree almost completely with everything that the Catholic church stands for/preaches and just can’t stomach it. Never really could, but I realized it hurt my parents to see me turn away from the church at such a young age so I played along (however unconvincingly) from the age of 12 or 13 through the time I graduated and left for college. It’s really not a big deal to me (not being religious), but it seems to be a big deal to everyone else in my life. Nothing I can do about that except point out that I’m the exact same person I’ve always been, I daresay maybe a little better without the constraints of an outdated, out of touch and hypocritical institution. Not counting all the residual damage that might not ever be undone when it comes to personal … things. Let’s just say I might not ever completely shed the shame and guilt that the church laid on so thick in those critical formative years. Don’t you love that an army of celibate men (many of whom are confused about their own sexuality) get to decide what’s “right” and “wrong” between a man and a woman? Ah. Don’t get me started. And no I’m not gay, on the off chance that you’ve misinterpreted what I’m saying. It has more to do with having a healthy and normal self-image.

Anyway. I made my First Communion like a good Catholic girl when I was in second grade. My grandparents (very very Irish Catholic) gave me a sterling silver rosary in a little leather pouch as a gift that day. I’m not going to make fun of the gift - I happen to think it’s very beautiful and I used it often growing up in Catholic school. I’ve gotten rid of most of my religious things over the years (bibles, crosses, some guilt) but I’ve hung on to that rosary because it has sentimental value. It was a gift given from the heart. Who am I to just toss it into the trash? I’m sure it wasn’t cheap, so it also seems really wasteful and thoughtless to just throw it out. It would feel mean-spirited, especially since both of my grandparents have passed and it’s one of the last things I have that they gave to me. Letting it go would just be very bad juju. Maybe I can give it to my own (hypothetical) children one day if they decide to be Catholic like the rest of the family. Which by the way, I have absolutely no problem with, it’s not my decision to make for them. So anyway. Fast forward through 15+ years of religious internal struggles and here I am today, happily living in my “God” free world, amazingly not worshiping the devil or sacrificing goats, but that little rosary is still tucked behind my jewelry box.

A few months ago I decided to hire a cleaning service. It was one of those luxuries that I’d denied myself for years because, hello, I have two hands and I can clean. But now that I own my own home and have a lot more space to muck up, I just can’t keep up with the cleaning anymore. My housekeepers are a husband and wife rockstar duo who make my house sparkle, and they are most definitely very Catholic. I always make sure to hide my philosophical “maybe there is no god” porn, purely out of respect for them. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable and would rather just avoid that whole discussion with them. Well, they found the stash pretty quickly. Oh well. What can I do, you know?

The real kicker is that the wife found my rosary the very first time they cleaned and lovingly displayed it across my dresser. Imagine my shock when I came home from work and found Jesus all sprawled out in front of my jewelry box. I have to say, I was taken aback. It was like… just wrong. But whatever, I didn’t say anything on account of they probably think I have a pentagram under my carpet and practice witchcraft. No need to rock the boat. Plus, they are cleaning wizards and I would live in piles of dust bunnies and soap scum without them. So the “coming of the lord” is now just this thing that happens once a month when they come over. The first time was the only time the rosary came out of the case, all the other times it’s been in the pouch sitting right on the front of my dresser. Last month I think they had subs cover for them because the rosary stayed hidden. But I know they’re back because tonight when I came home, this is what I found:

Ah yes. Just like clockwork.

~ by Clare on 05.14.08..