My attempt to justify not going to Mass ... again

I think it should be me praying at this rock, not Jesus. It's safe to assume his soul is in good shape.

    I managed to wake up before 10 this morning. That never happens on a Sunday since I started my new job, which requires me to work anywhere between 12 to 2 in the morning. This wasn't the most astonishing part of my morning, however. The first thing that came to mind after waking up was, "Should I go to church this morning?"

     This sounds stupid, but please don't turn away from reading this post because:
1) It won't be stupid (entirely)
2) I'm not going to get spiritual on everybody's case.

     What this is about is how much of a mental conflict this one question posed to the point where I felt compelled to write about it.

     To give you background, I haven't been to church in about two or three years (I lost count). I don't even do the cheap Catholic method of going to Mass on Christmas and Easter. I can write a whole post about how that concept pisses me off to oblivion, but to be brief, if you're one of those people: You can go to Hell. Your all-knowing God knows you're cheating him, and two visits to church a year (one that is essentially his son's birthday party and the other a funeral) isn't going to spare you eternal damnation.

     Anyway, the thought of going to church for the first time in a while confused me. I do enjoy the occasional Mass, and since I was awake before 3 o'clock kick-off, I figured this would be my first chance in a while.

     Yet, as I lied there in my cozy bed, I now found myself juggling the situation. I knew I had an early press run today that required me to have my section complete by 7 p.m. That mean I had to go into work by at least 3 p.m. to get a jump on it. Granted, the last mass is at 11:30 a.m., so I could easily make it, especially since the church is within walking distance.

     Then I thought about all the other stuff I had do such as clean the apartment and prepare for tonight's dinner. Reading this back to myself, I feel like a dick because I'm making excuses not to go to church -- and my reasoning sucks. I threw all those excuses out and decided I should go. That's when another thought set in.

     I've been living in Hollidaysburg for about three months now. I've never been to a church in the area. I'm not too familiar with the people in the community. None of the people I work with go to church from what I know of. It would be a very lonely scene. I was always used to going with my family or at least a girlfriend. Being in a church with no one you know is really daunting. I have an easier time being in the church by myself and just kneeling in a pew to pray.

     It also bugged me that this wasn't "my" church. I was baptized, reconciled and confirmed in the former Sacred Heart-Saint John's Parish Community in Wilkes-Barre.

     Every Sunday, we went to Sacred Heart, which is one of the most beautiful Catholic churches I've seen around. It was basically a cathedral among apartments and row houses. The building wasn't perfect. It had no air conditioning, so the place baked in the summer. The ceiling had cracks in it, and the dilapidated roof would be an issue for years to come. There was no great sound system, so anyone caught sitting in the back had a hard time hearing the Mass. There were two large marble pillars near the front of the church that blocked out the view of the altar to a few sections of people. Despite all this, it was a warm, beautiful place. I loved coming here.

     What made it all the more welcoming were the priests presiding over the Mass. Not all of them were great, but there were two that made church worth the 45 minutes. The first was Father Gilbert, a young, dark-haired energetic man who was great with the children of the church. He always read stories during the special masses and had a smile on his face doing it. He eventually moved to another church in the state. The real shock hit when we found out he had a heart attack during the preparation for a play he was setting up with the church. Father Gilbert, a man of faith, died in his early 50s. The Sacred Heart Community had a wake-up call that day: No matter how big your faith, it didn't guarantee a longer life.

     Then, there was Monsignor Sempa. I haven't met a priest I enjoyed more than this man. What set him apart from the rest of the priests was his sense of humor. He always started eulogies with a joke and usually followed it up with a funny story that had a deep moral at the end. His stories were always compelling because they were anecdotes about normal, everyday people who went through some hardship and later found happiness. They were messages anyone could relate to.

     Outside of church, he was a normal guy. He could relate to anyone and had a parent-like attitude. When my grandmother once told him of a bladder infection she had, his response was, "Well that's a real pisser." On another occasion, he asked me how life was going, including if I had a girlfriend. I didn't, and he came back with, "Well if you never find a girl, the church can always use another priest." It's funny how these one-liners could make my entire day, but that's how this church was. Everyone in Wilkes-Barre felt happy to be there, and no matter how much you disliked the Mass itself, all eyes were on Monsignor Sempa for at least 10 minutes.

     Happiness isn't enough to pay the rent, however. St. John's was the first to go. It was sold and renovated into a nursing home when I was in my teens. A few years after that, the closure of Sacred Heart was imminent. We all knew the financial strain and the renovations that were needed. Finally, the Diocese of Scranton closed the doors for the final time a few summers ago. A local organization fought to keep the church open, but they wouldn't succeed.

     What finally turned me away from the local church scene was Monsignor Sempa's transfer to a Pittston church, which was far too out of my reach, even for a guy I admired. All the fond memories I had of church in my childhood were closed down and locked away. I haven't been able to enter a church with the same energy and passion since. That left with Sacred Heart, Father Gilbert and Monsignor Sempa.

     It's understandable to not feel welcome at a new church when all the faces are strange. There's more to it than that in my case. I haven't felt welcome in the Church (the organization) for some time now. As I've grown older, my faith has diminished bit by bit. I'm still Catholic, and I still believe, but I have many grievances with the Church.

     I hate the amount of molestation occurring between priests and boys. I think the people responsible for covering up molestation and then transferring the pedophile priest to another church should be excommunicated from the Church with no promise of redemption. Society would be willing to hang any average schmo by the neck if he touched a child the wrong way. If it's a priest, however, people complain about it over a cup of coffee and leave it at that. When's the last time you saw a massive protest outside of a church or the Vatican against pedophile priests?

     I also don't agree with the Church's stance on same-sex marriage. If everyone is created in God's image, and God loves everybody, then why would he hate gay people? Why would he create something he despises so much that, at birth, it is condemned to Hell with no chance at redemption like every other sinner? It makes no sense, and I don't believe the "it's a choice" stance for a second. I'm guessing it was my choice to be a middle-class, white male too, right? I'm guessing the little boy in Africa chose to be born into poverty with malnutrition and AIDS, too. There are things we choose in life, but there isn't enough evidence to support that. The Bible doesn't count, either. It's a 2,000-year-old text that tells us we can kill two people guilty of adultery or how we shouldn't shave sideburns.

     I'm also pro-choice, and we can argue this a thousand ways. My problem has nothing to do with the rights of the fetus. What pisses me off is the Christian politicians and the churches trying to outlaw abortion. For the former, we have something called separation of church and state, which is meant to keep politics away from religion (because I will not have President Obama tell me that I can't shave my sideburns, God dammit!). Last time I checked, not everyone in America is Christian, too. How can we apply Christian rules to a Jew or an atheist? We can't, and we shouldn't. If you believe in Christianity, then let God handle abortion clinics (His progress seems a bit slow). Leave your Bible-thumping in church and not on Capital Hill.

     For the latter, when churches start paying taxes like the rest of society, then maybe they can have a say in politics. Church is also supposed to be a place devoid of politics. It's a spiritual place. If I wanted to talk politics, I'd go to Reddit. Politics only insight conflict. I go to church to avoid the burden and qualms of the outside world for 45 minutes.

     I can go on, but the point is the Church doesn't appeal to me like it used to. In terms of Catholicism, I have the sensations of loneliness and separation. The only thing that's given me comfort with the Church as of recent is Pope Francis. The man has made it publicly known a couple times that the Church is too obsessed with abortion and gay marriage when those aren't the biggest issues at hand. We should be more concerned with the molestation issue, keeping churches open and the declining numbers of Catholic followers first. He realizes the Church isn't evolving with the times, and that's going to be its downfall in the end.

    You can mention all of Pope John Paul's good work, but the man didn't get the real picture. He couldn't see outside of the Bible, which is what the Church needs to do if it wishes to survive. Pope Benedict didn't do a much better job since he was a John Paul wannabe. Francis is relating to more people (especially the youth) than ever. That's the important thing. Sure, you want to appeal to the elderly devote Catholics. The problem is these diehards are eventually going to die themselves, and then who is going to carry the faith? If the Church wants to preserve its hold in this day and age, then it needs to embrace the changing times and to show the younger Catholics that they can live in a world with faith and reason.

     This post was way too much work in order to avoid church. It might've been easier to just go to Mass. Oddly enough, I feel much more liberated having confessed here than in a crowded building with hundreds of strangers. That's what it's all about. Weekly Mass isn't everybody's answer to life's problems. Everyone has their way of finding peace with the world. You just read mine.