Our only Easter tradition these days seems to be watching all the hours of The Ten Commandments (The REAL version with Charlton and Yul) and buying a pile of chocolate for ourselves. We’re even a holiday behind this year, with corned beef and cabbage in the crockpot. Maybe we’ll do ham for Cinco de Mayo and have margaritas for The Fourth of July.
Easter always gets me thinking seriously about my religion (or lack thereof) in a way Christmas never does. Must be the torture and death. I’m such a bad Catholic now that someone had to remind me what Good Friday was all about. And thank goodness for that infogram on facebook breaking down the horrors to specific hours. I know, I know… But looking from the outside in, Good Friday seems like a really poor choice of titles for the day. I haven’t been to a church service in years that wasn’t tied to a wedding or a funeral. I don’t consider myself a Catholic anymore, although I was raised that and went through Confirmation and all. Cecelia is the saint name I chose, for those that are curious. Today, I consider myself a human being who tries to be as good as she is able on any given day. That’s not a religion, that’s just not being a dick. I’m okay with that. If we have a higher being I feel they will be okay with that as well.
Organized religion just stopped making sense to me and no one could give me answers that seemed right. It probably happens to most people and then they somehow reconcile and put away thier doubts. That’s faith? When something doesn’t make sense but you’re going to believe in it anyway? Yeah…no. I couldn’t do it. It never seemed right that somehow I happened to be part of the “real” religion and everyone else was mistaken and doomed. I lasted until shortly after confirmation when I finally said this religion stuff was bullshit. I probably said exactly that, I don’t recall. But I know what the last straw was, the last stupid little thing that make me think people were totally lying to me about how serious all these rules were that I was brought up with and was supposed to be terrified to go against.
Buffalo has a pretty big Irish population and apparently there was consternation over not being able to eat corned beef on St. Patrick’s day since it was a Friday during Lent. The Cardinal over the Buffalo area then gave Special Dispensation to eat corned beef that Friday that year. I went WHAAAT………..? Suddenly, all these rules of what you could and could not do to avoid going to Hell got pretty hazy. I was out. I didn’t make a big stink about it but slowly I withdrew from “churchy things” and once I was in college I only went to mass on major holidays to make my mother happy.
I may not be part of a religion on purpose now, but I can’t exactly remove everything I was raised with. It’s just a bit different these days. I do believe there was a man named Jesus. I have a feeling that some stories in the Bible are loosely based on true events and others are completely fabricated to suit the needs of important men. I think Mary Magdalene was far more important than we have been told and might have been Jesus’ wife. There’s so much we don’t know about that people just have faith in but that’s never been me.
I just try not to be an asshole.