I went through the motions for a while because I didn't have much of a choice. When you are born to a Catholic parent you are raised a Catholic.
The best thing about growing up Catholic (until Vatican II changed the rules) was that I couldn't eat meat on Fridays. I got to eat more peanut butter! Yay, Friday! (Oh, my! I just checked and apparently it's a myth that Vatican II let us eat meat on Friday! Oh, well.) I went to Neil Gardner's birthday party one year that happened to be on a Friday. Mrs. Gardner served hot dogs. Later that day I realized that I had committed a mortal sin. I was terrified. I wonder if I confessed that. Was Mrs. Gardner trying to send this Catholic to hell?
One of the worst things about growing up Catholic was having to go to catechism class every week after school. Didn't they know that kids would rather play after school?
In our early years we got to memorize the answers to many questions so that we could prove to the priest that we deserved to take our First Communion. Later, we got to memorize answers to many questions to prove that we deserved to get our Confirmation. One of the things that we do when we get confirmed is take the name of a saint who is special to us. I didn't know one saint from another. (Did they teach us about saints? Did I miss that lesson?) Beth had been appalled that none of the boys in her group had taken the Archbishop's name so I took the Archbishop's name. What was the Archbishop's name?
I think that this is one of the tests I took that prepared me for confirmation. I aced it!
The catechism teacher gave me a good assessment (but she couldn't spell my name).
When she sent us off to summer vacation, she gave us a little card with reminders of what to do after we were released from her care.
There is no record of my going to mass on First Fridays or any other times. And my parent or guardian didn't attest to my fulfilling these duties. I'm off to hell.Sometime during my catechism career, I was taken from class to be a model in a photo shoot. I have no idea what the pictures were going to be used for but I got a copy of one of them! I'm fiddling with a little model of an altar or something. How inspiring!
I'm the one on the left. I don't know who the others are. I don't know what I did to deserve this honor.Another honor I had was to have my birthday fall on the Feast of the Ascension, a Holy Day of Obligation, a couple of times. Geez! I had to go to church on my birthday and it wasn't even a Sunday! NOT FAIR!
Around the seventh or eighth grade I somehow got to make the decision that I wasn't going to go to church anymore. How did I get to decide that? Children can't decide things like that for themselves.
Except for weddings and funerals, the last time I can remember going to church was when we visited Tucumcari and I went along to let our grandmother see that she had good grandkids following the right path.
4 comments:
First of all, How lucky were you to have gotten a picture shoot with Emilio Estevez!
Some where, I have a card from the 8th grade showing my parents failed Jesus because I missed so many catechism classes-due to my watching a tv show about Jesse James.
Chuck, I hope you have added "child model" to your resume.
So maybe the reason your parent didn't sign the summer's events schedule was due to the fact it was never presented to said parent?
Anyhow, no matter that having to eat peanut butter on Fridays instead of meat wasn't exactly penance, you seem to have turned out O.K.
Very nice picture! You were quite aq cute model.
My favorite story of your religious experience was one Sunday when the Knights of Columbus were there for some celebration. They were marching two by two down the center aisle (in the old Church) wearing their full "Knight" regalia (swords, head gear with feathers, capes, etc.). It was very quiet as this was a very big deal on said day. When they came along our pew, you stood up, pointed and said (LOUDLY), "Look, Mom! Pirates!"
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