J
Judas_Daily
Guest
Hi,
I’ve just returned from Mass at my local parish. This is the second time I’ve been to Mass in a while. I quit attending Mass and confession sometime this past October due to varying circumstances, which is sad considering I just joined the Church this past Easter. One of the reasons I fell away from the Church was because I had slowly but surely become a zealot in my new faith, tending to isolate and alienate myself internally and externally, which, in effect, caused me to view God as a wrathful, vengeful God of justice and mercy, and not the God of Love which we hear about. The God of Love no longer made sense to me.
After awhile, I let my sins take control over me. I no longer had any will power left in me to fight against the temptations which surrounded me daily. I slowly dissolved and wasted away into intense pride, self-satisfaction, and carnal pleasures. I had been going to confession to make frequent confession of these sins, but after a while I realized that going to confession when I had no intention of quitting was dishonest…and making a mockery of both myself and the priest. Without confession I couldn’t participate in communion, and the alienation I felt because I could not control myself eventually caused me to walk away from the Church.
During the interim, I expressed some interest in converting to Islam, but I never could take that step. Doing such felt wrong, primarily because I had no intention of living by the codes of conduct which Islam asked of the human person. Plus, I don’t believe in the dogmas of Islam. It was evident by this point that no religion could calm my troubled soul; that I still had every intention of living according to certain principles which I felt were just, merciful, and pragmatic. I promised myself that I would not live amorally, but that certain things which the religions pronounced as forbidden might not actually be forbidden - that actuality did not measure up to the dogmas pronounced from the pulpit.
It’s hard for me to explain why I’ve decided to start attending Mass again. I recently finished reading THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST which instilled new hope in me, which helped me to understand the vitality of the Gospel, and why Jesus continues to matter 2000 years later. But I think it was a dream I had a couple of weekends ago which promulgated me to attend Mass again.
In the dream, I was visiting the local mosque. It was obviously the mosque due to the bareness of the interior. There were no fonts, no statues, not much of anything except the striped green carpet and the tapestry on the wall which reads “Allah” in Arabic. There were people sitting on the carpet waiting for the khutbah (sermon). When the imam finally prepared himself, instead of delivering a lengthy, fire and brimstone-esque sermon, he set out a basket of wafers - communion wafers to be exact - and asked everyone to participate, to help themselves, and to partake of the communal bread. There were no special formulas recited over the bread, like at a Catholic Mass, instead the wafers remained bread - and without any hesitation, everyone got up and grabbed the bread, greedily nibbling in spiritul exultation.
This was my dream. Nothing prophetic about it, nothing life-changing, nothing extraordinary - except that it prompted me to attend Mass instead of going to see CHARLIE WILSON’S WAR at the theater.
For whatever reason, I did attend Mass, and I thoroughly disliked it. I was relatively miserable throughout the entire ordeal, except during communion when the deacon, who troubled himself back in the day to memorize my name, smiled graciously at me in recognition. make it worse, some elderly gentleman sitting next to me passed out, and an ambulance was called. I effectively did nothing to help him. What could I do? There were enough people keeping him alive and conscious. As much as I hated Mass, it was a real pleasure seeing old, familiar faces. I sort of decided right then that I would continue attending Mass not for anything I believe or disbelieve, but because there are people there who I know and who recognize me. Maybe even care for me, though I don’t think so. I would attend Mass, therefore, for social, prideful reasons.
…continued…
I’ve just returned from Mass at my local parish. This is the second time I’ve been to Mass in a while. I quit attending Mass and confession sometime this past October due to varying circumstances, which is sad considering I just joined the Church this past Easter. One of the reasons I fell away from the Church was because I had slowly but surely become a zealot in my new faith, tending to isolate and alienate myself internally and externally, which, in effect, caused me to view God as a wrathful, vengeful God of justice and mercy, and not the God of Love which we hear about. The God of Love no longer made sense to me.
After awhile, I let my sins take control over me. I no longer had any will power left in me to fight against the temptations which surrounded me daily. I slowly dissolved and wasted away into intense pride, self-satisfaction, and carnal pleasures. I had been going to confession to make frequent confession of these sins, but after a while I realized that going to confession when I had no intention of quitting was dishonest…and making a mockery of both myself and the priest. Without confession I couldn’t participate in communion, and the alienation I felt because I could not control myself eventually caused me to walk away from the Church.
During the interim, I expressed some interest in converting to Islam, but I never could take that step. Doing such felt wrong, primarily because I had no intention of living by the codes of conduct which Islam asked of the human person. Plus, I don’t believe in the dogmas of Islam. It was evident by this point that no religion could calm my troubled soul; that I still had every intention of living according to certain principles which I felt were just, merciful, and pragmatic. I promised myself that I would not live amorally, but that certain things which the religions pronounced as forbidden might not actually be forbidden - that actuality did not measure up to the dogmas pronounced from the pulpit.
It’s hard for me to explain why I’ve decided to start attending Mass again. I recently finished reading THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST which instilled new hope in me, which helped me to understand the vitality of the Gospel, and why Jesus continues to matter 2000 years later. But I think it was a dream I had a couple of weekends ago which promulgated me to attend Mass again.
In the dream, I was visiting the local mosque. It was obviously the mosque due to the bareness of the interior. There were no fonts, no statues, not much of anything except the striped green carpet and the tapestry on the wall which reads “Allah” in Arabic. There were people sitting on the carpet waiting for the khutbah (sermon). When the imam finally prepared himself, instead of delivering a lengthy, fire and brimstone-esque sermon, he set out a basket of wafers - communion wafers to be exact - and asked everyone to participate, to help themselves, and to partake of the communal bread. There were no special formulas recited over the bread, like at a Catholic Mass, instead the wafers remained bread - and without any hesitation, everyone got up and grabbed the bread, greedily nibbling in spiritul exultation.
This was my dream. Nothing prophetic about it, nothing life-changing, nothing extraordinary - except that it prompted me to attend Mass instead of going to see CHARLIE WILSON’S WAR at the theater.
For whatever reason, I did attend Mass, and I thoroughly disliked it. I was relatively miserable throughout the entire ordeal, except during communion when the deacon, who troubled himself back in the day to memorize my name, smiled graciously at me in recognition. make it worse, some elderly gentleman sitting next to me passed out, and an ambulance was called. I effectively did nothing to help him. What could I do? There were enough people keeping him alive and conscious. As much as I hated Mass, it was a real pleasure seeing old, familiar faces. I sort of decided right then that I would continue attending Mass not for anything I believe or disbelieve, but because there are people there who I know and who recognize me. Maybe even care for me, though I don’t think so. I would attend Mass, therefore, for social, prideful reasons.
…continued…