“Love didn’t grow very well in a place where there was only fear.”
―Stephen King
Bless me Father it has been ten days since my last blog post…
I used to love watching those movie scene confessions; the screen, the pulled back velvet curtain, the whispers, the foggy incense, the thrill of telling your darkest secrets and then…hearing the penance…your very own ‘get of jail free’ forgiveness card.
I grew up believing that it was all hocus-pocus. The Mennonites, like every other religion, were secure in their righteous knowledge of their one and only surefire way to those pearly gates. And we all knew that priests did not figure into that plan.
But lately I’ve been thinking that whole priest program would have served a glorious purpose. I think of all those back-in-the-day villagers knowing they had someone who held all their secrets and provided them with a balm for their soul. Even without the penance, the very act of divulging, of speaking your shame would have been healing.
But I grew up with the belief that our religion had properly interpreted God’s word so that we didn’t need any intercessors on our behalf. We had a direct line to the ear of God. How much better was that?
But without our very own Father Confessor, we are left with a silent God and our voices echoing against the walls of our room. We can sub in therapists, random friends, family or the poor sod next to us on the plane, but there is a risk in confessing outside of a private booth. I think we might have lost something in our evolution to religious independence.
I want to tuck into that dark narrow room, lean my head against the smooth wood, inhale the frankincense and know that a prescription of ten Hail Mary’s will absolve me. I like the idea of the thrill of speaking to someone who hears, responds and offers a feel-good solution, even if all I’m confessing is that I ran a yellow light on Pratt Road.
There is something dark and Holy about the act of saying sorry out loud.
When the Mennonites decided simple and austere was best, when they threw out all the icons, the priests and the gilt, it was a severe reaction to the gaudy grandeur that filled the Catholic church. I remember when we visited the Catholic church in Assisi. I couldn’t believe the irony of the jewel-encrusted church paying homage to Saint Francis, the man who rejected all worldly possessions and materialism. The irony was, let us say, rich.
The same irony is afoot in so many Buddhist temples. Shiny bling and garland in honour of a man who rejected his family’s wealth on his path to enlightenment.
I’m not sure why I’ve been thinking about this lately and why it feels important to consider. It might only be a reaction to deciding what, of our remaining stored stuff, really needs to be in our new home. Homes that are filled to the ceiling with clutter make me crazy while one that is too spare feels cold. Somewhere in between the two is the comfort of coming to a home filled with soul. It is all so very individual and that might be the lesson…what feels right to one person is a formula for discomfort and discord in another.
Maybe it is only this: perhaps our religions tell us much more about who we are than who or what God is. Maybe, like our homes, our gods are simply a reflection who we are.
“Your first impulse is to share good news,
your second is to club someone with it.”
― Stephen King, The Stand
Love the artwork!
Thanks Dee Dee. Starting some new pieces in my new mini-studio.
Ah yes! Our unwitting ancestors. “When they threw out all the icons, the priests and the gilt,” they kept the guilt. Pent it up in silence and agonized over some sin not confessed (and thereby not forgiven) which would jeopardize their salvation and keep them apart from God’s favour for eternity. Ironically they kept the Catholic notion of self-flagellation but opted for psychological rather than physical means.
I agree. Religions say (and explain) a great deal about who we are–sometimes they influence our thoughts and actions even long after we have abandoned the cant as inadequate or even abusive.
Amen sister! Well said.
I think that we make God in our own image with our own mix of beauty and ugliness.
Show me your wrathful retribution-seeking God and I’ll learn more about who you are than your God.
Or tell me your God is the embodiment of love, and again, I’ll discover more about you than your religion.
All these ‘alt-right’ religions that have come to the forefront of this election have only shown me anger and ugliness. With their rants against anyone ‘different’, they are so far from Christ’a message that it would be laughable if it wasn’t so terrifying.
Colleen, I remember when I was at school (a Roman Catholic one) the only sin that I would confess is that I had been disobedient. I couldn’t think of anything else to confess but I am sure there must have been much more.
You mentioned St. Francis of Assisi, yes he turned his back to his wealth but when you go to Italy, Spain or Portugal the churches are ornate with gold, draperies and more. The Pope lives in the Vatican, travels 1st first class but do not own anything, so do monks and nuns but live a relatively humbler existence.
Most people who are born take the religion of their parents, such as their colour, breed and language. A few brave people make the change.
Very true Catherine. The Catholic Church is a strange mix of vast wealth and monastic austerity among its priests and nuns. Such extremes.
I find it hard to reconcile all that ornate wealth with the poverty of so many of its developing nation followers.
And I really doubt your childhood self had much to confess ????
Should have read some of Stephen King’s work. I like the quotes.
As a “recovering” Catholic (Roman variation), this brings back lots of memories. Maybe if we ever catch up with each other again, we might share some stories.
Ah Joan, I would love to share stories about our memories and ‘recoveries’. I’m sorry I missed you when you were in Vancouver. Maybe I’ll head your way next time.
Great article ! Perhaps, as we become older and hopefully wiser, we dare to question the beliefs hammered into our minds and soul. That would likely be considered sinful !
Thanks Ruby. I’m so glad this resonates with you. I think that bumper sticker that says, Question Everything, is my favourite saying.