With parents who were raised
in fundamentalist churches in the South, my earliest knowledge about religion
was confusing and contradictory. You see, my parents abandoned their churches
and any discussion of religious principles when they left Mississippi for the
North.
There was a church bus which
came through our rural Michigan neighborhood and picked up children who were
bound for the Methodist church quite a few miles away. I asked if I could join,
thinking that it must be something fun if so many kids were going. My parents
weren’t enthusiastic, but allowed it.
All I can remember is that
there was a Sunday school class after the main prayers which were said by what
seemed like old, old men. Also, there were presents when you came for the first
and third times to the church.
Well, this made my mother
crazy. “Giving gifts for attending church is outrageous!” I heard her complain.
To me, it made all kinds of sense. The gifts were real cool, and the only real
fun was riding on the bus and seeing kids all dressed up. Oh, and I loved to
dress up. Suddenly, I had what other kids called their “Sunday” dress.
My next church experience
happened when I spent a Saturday night with my friend Kay, and asked if I could
go to Catholic mass with her family on Sunday. Again, my parents relented, and
off I went to this very unusual ceremony. It was nothing like those earlier
Methodist forays.
Fact is, that Catholic
gathering scared the daylights out of me. I already knew that they had some
strange habits like having to cover the head, not eating meat on Friday, and
wearing a big black blotch on their forehead once a year. It was all very
arcane and even scary to me, especially when they seriously told me about the
array of sins to be avoided. One of the biggest was missing mass on Sunday.
I’ll just finish that story with the truth that that big Catholic church was
the creepiest place I had ever been in. I can still remember my mother’s face
when I asked her about holy water.
Depending on what article you
come across these days, it seems that we baby boomers turned away from our
religions of origin largely because of our distrust in institutions. Now
statistics are showing that as we age and see the mortality of our parents and
others around us, we may be giving organized religion a second chance. To quote
17th Century philosopher, Pascal, ”There is a god-shaped emptiness
in each of us.”
Using myself as an example, I
will attest to the above. After my mother’s death in the 90’s, for the first
time ever, I began to explore religion, largely to know more about “the other
side” as some call it. I also felt a strong desire to be less self-centered,
and more like my mother. It was a wish to honor her goodness and generosity
even though she rarely spoke of religion.
I do recall her saying “There
but for the grace of God go I.” when she would see people in dire situations,
or overhear me making fun of someone. I admit that that verse/phrase comes to
me at times when I see the victims of recent bombings and the persecution of
gays and others outside what we call the norm.
I’ve spent many years trying
to overcome my prejudice against the Catholic church. You see, my first husband
was Catholic, and even though he never attended mass, the hard and fast rules
of married behavior as he saw it were part of the demise of our marriage.
Through the years, I have had
many friends and acquaintances who described themselves as “recovering
Catholics” because of the ill treatment they experienced from nuns and priests
when they were young.
Conversely, I know some folks
who find great comfort in attending mass and partaking of the rituals that have
brought them peace and a sense of belonging. They feel that the man-made rules
and human failings of the church leaders don’t diminish the good that they
found in a lifetime of faith.
As for me, this baby boomer
is still searching, still researching – and praying daily.
•By the way: A survey
conducted by Gallup in 2010 found that people ages 50 to 64 were more likely to
say they frequently went to church, temple or mosque than those 18 to 29 did.
The figures were 43 percent versus 35 percent, and for the group containing the
oldest segment of the baby boom population – 65 and up – the figure was 53
percent.
