I’ve been reading Cynthia over at Mormon 2 Catholic ’cause she’s pretty cool, and I’ve got this wierd fascination with all things Mormon. One of my life’s dreams is to go to Salt Lake City and stand in Temple Square and ask awkward theological questions of the fresh-faced Mishie Sissies (Missionary Sisters) who double as tour guides. Because I am a cruel woman. I also like convert stories, and Catholics, so, all sorts of things to get my groove on there.
So I read this post at Cynthia’s place. Here’s the bit that jumped out and bit me on the ass (she’s actually quoting something that Ma Back said at the Ward Wide Web and has her own meditation on this, my response does not in any way reflect on hers, bla bla bla, usual disclaimer stuff, don’t yell at her if you don’t like what I say, but go read Cynthia’s blog ’cause consarnd it, she’s cool!):
Every single time you stand in the line to receive Holy Communion, you’re making a statement to the world.
This statement includes the following:
I believe in every single item of the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds.
I believe 100% in what the Catholic Church teaches about homosexuality.
I believe 100% in what the Catholic Church teaches about contraception.
I believe 100% in what the Catholic Church teaches about capital punishment.
I believe 100% in what the Catholic Church teaches about Euthanasia.
I believe 100% in what the Catholic Church teaches about abortion.
I believe in the Papacy, and I believe in the succession from St. Peter to Benedict XVI.
I believe 100% in the mystery of transubstantiation, and I believe in the Church’s teaching that in order to receive our Lord in Holy Communion, my soul should be in a state of grace. For all but the most heroic of Catholics, this probably means Confession at least once a month.
So, beyond the Anglo-Catholic pedantery that it should be ROMAN Catholic Church in there… what the heck?
No, seriously. Call me an intellectual if you want, but I don’t 100% believe ANYTHING.
Sun’s gonna rise tomorrow?
I want empirical proof.
First person to say “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believed” will get a withering glare.
So, maybe I’m not good enough to be a member of the [Roman] Catholic Church, then. Sorry. I don’t believe every part of the Apostle’s Creed. Jesus went to Hell? And did what, had a surf party? Couple of mai tais with his estranged buddies, the Fallen? How does that ring up with what happens in Revelations? What about Hell being a seperation from God; how can God be seperate from Godself? Et cetera, ad hominem, monkey flys. First line, ninth word in, I’m kicked out of the club.
One of the hardest things for me to do is get up out of the pew and take the long walk to the altar. Dude, I am sooo not worthy. I’m probably not the greatest of sinners (I don’t think I’ve ever kicked a puppy), but I’ve done my fair share of sinning today, thought, word, and deed. Why do I take that long walk, heed that altar call, fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun?
Because I’m broken. I hurt. I’m not perfect. I doubt. I sin.
And each and every time I make that long walk, I acknowlege that I am imperfect, that I am in pain, that I need help. I acknowlege that I cannot do this thing called ‘life’ on my own.
I reach out my hands in supplication, and grace is freely given.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever, amen.
*Today’s post title is a lyric from Comfort Eagle by Cake.