Mass

I'm not big on religion. I was at one point, but I was a child. I don't remember now if I really enjoyed it or I think that I did because I knew all the prayers and it was something we did as a family. By the time I was 8, my view of religion started to change.

My mom sometimes calls me a "rebel without a cause." I always think I have a cause - justice. It is because of justice that I tried to turn my back on religion as I held it responsible for many of the injustices in my life.

When something is hammered into me and I'm expected to accept a truth that is not my own, I get angry and in that anger reject all that is presented. Growing up, mi abuelita tried to force religion, God, y todos los santos upon me, shoving them down my throat and leaving me with a bitter and resentful after taste. She never understood that her violent attempts caused just the opposite of what she was trying to accomplish. I stopped praying and began to doubt, to question, stating that if there indeed was a God, I needed proof and that if I doubted, it was because I had a brain and that was, furthermore, a compliment to the Almighty, as I was living proof that we were created in His image.

Now that I'm older, I'm trying to return to my religious roots; I go to church pretty often, I try to pray, but it's difficult. I'm not sure I have faith. At times I think I do, but more often than not I question the existence of a being I have never seen and perhaps haven't even felt. Then I feel guilty. i feel guilty for doubting - faith is blind, therefore hard to accept. Then, whenever I'm faced with torment, I wonder if it is my punishment for lacking faith, That doesn't seem fair though. I'm still a good person and I try to do the right thing, so being punished for questioning wouldn't be right, especially if God is indeed the just God I believe him to be. He must be. He needs to be. He feeds hope. He lifts spirits. He heals broken hearts. How can I believe again? How can I stop doubting?

As far as mi abuelita is concerned, she is still a major reason for my religious allergies. I don't know why, maybe because I'm now an adult and she has absolutely no leverage over me, even when I'm feeling God, I deny it to her. Yesterday was her birthday, I called her para felicitarla (note that I decided it wasn't worth the effort to go out of my way to visit her. It makes me sad but none of my grandparents ever inspired any natural tenderness in me, instead I just feel a sometimes duty-type of love). She asked me when I was going to visit her. For some reason though, talking to her brings me back to my childhood and makes me defensive. I said I didn't know, that I was busy. She said to come over para platicar. I said I'd see when I had time and sure we could talk, as long as religion was kept out of the conversation. I knew what I was saying, just as I knew what she would say. She scolded, accused me of "always being against God." I just cut her off, wished her a Happy Birthday and said good-bye.

I went to mass this morning. As usual, I sat in the back - alone. There was an older couple sitting behind me. After a while, I just walked out because the guy made me sick. He was so grumpy, so unwilling to be there. He made comments the entire time, I'll admit it, I talk in church when I go with other people. I got shhh-ed last time I went with my mom and sisters. But my observations are smart and witty - they're funny. Gugu laughs even as she tells me to shut-up. This dude though, he was just negative. Today, in celebration of Chinese New Year, there was a special ritual. At the end of it, we were instructed my the priest to bow 3 times to the Ancestors' Shrine. Then to bow again to the main celebrant and to one another, wishing everyone New Year happiness. At this point, Grouch the Rude says, "I'm not Chinese." Are you being serious right now?? It just made me sick, to be in the presence of such ignorance. I stayed a few more minutes before walking out in search of food and to get away from the lack of respect of others' culture. Just bow dude, it doesn't cost you anything. Or better yet, don't come.

It was all bad though. I went to the 9:30 AM mass, labeled the "family mass." There were so many families, so many children. There was this cute little girl sitting in front of me, she was maybe 2 and full of energy. At one point she took a rolled up program and started howling. It was disrupting, but super adorable and funny, it made me smile. Going to mass also reinforces my desire to have a family and not be an old mom. In a way, it makes me sad. I don't want to yearn for something that is not in my horizon. What if it never happens? I know I shouldn't think like that, but sometimes it's hard to remain positive and hopeful. Patience is a virtue. I'm not virtuous. I have NO patience. Maybe Sor Isabel was right when she prophesied how much I would suffer if I didn't learn to be patient. Maybe that's my personal cross to bear. Learning patience is like having faith - I see them, understand them, but I'm not sure I'll ever possess either. Here's to hoping and trying. At least I never really give up, which means that somewhere in me faith, patience and hope dwell.