The journey to leaving the church didn’t happen overnight. My love for my community held me. But it came at a cost. I compromised.
I truly appreciated the love and support we received when my husband was ill. So, I decided I wanted to visit people in the hospital who were in need of spiritual companionship. I signed up for the Ministry of Care training at Holy Name, the seat of the Catholic Church in Chicago. Most of the training focused on how you determine who is worthy of receiving communion and how to handle the host if someone was in isolation and you needed to wear a protective gown and gloves. They seemed to fear that a little piece of Jesus would be thrown in the trash. No one mentioned the suffering and comfort I wanted to share. In reality it was a bad fit, I never believed the host was the actual body and blood of Christ. One more example, that I was a horrible Catholic.
When they changed the wording leading up to communion to, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof” I decided to stand silently. My heart screamed, EVERY ONE IS WORTHY. My God loves us ALL lavishly. But I still showed up every Sunday to sing a joyful prayer.
Finally, in a recent twitter “battle”, I questioned my pastor’s right to life stance that vilified women who had to make the devastating choice to end a pregnancy after 24 weeks. There was no sympathy for the woman’s suffering; just the party line that a fetus’s life is paramount. A friend of my pastor first argued that I obviously never attended church. Then said I obviously didn’t know my pastor and had never heard him preach. Both of those assumptions are categorically untrue. Then he said something truthful. How can you blame him for following church doctrine? I knew that my time at church was coming to and end.
As a mother, I understand maternal love on a cellular level. If God, The Source, The Divine Energy, The Spirit…whatever moniker you want to give her, loves me in the same way I love my children, there can be no separation, no judgment, and certainly no original sin.
Now I have to find a new place to sing a joyful song of praise.
