S
Sailor_Kenshin
Guest
As an almost lifelong Catholic wannabe, I began attending Mass a year before I even thought of (or knew about!) RCIA.
We used to go to dinner after Vigil Mass and excitedly discuss the readings and homily.
And I recall the joy I felt when we attended our first Easter Sunday Mass. (before conversion). I practically danced out of the church: YAAAY! We did it! Now I can peel off my ‘grownup’ clothes and go out to brunch!
I remember silently praying during the RCIA scrutiny: PLEASE find me worthy! Please!
All that is gone now. I feel no joy whatever. I drag myself to Mass with gritted teeth because I must.
Here’s how I sum up the differences between Protestants and Catholics. (Please, no hue and cry; I know I’m missing important stuff, et cetera. I’m just trying to 'splain my dilemma):
Protestants: If God favors you, He gives you a Cadillac.
Catholics: If God favors you, He breaks both your legs and dumps you down a well.
Many Protestants live their lives as I wish Catholics would. They are forthright against abortion, homosexual ‘marriage,’ and the wanton destruction of our Constitution. And they are not afraid to say it aloud. We are supposed to do that, too, but often we remain silent. Why? Because we want to seem sophisticated?
I know that if I went to a Protestant church, I would be petted and told what a good person I am. On the other hand, I feel nothing from our Church but condemnation. I’m not good enough. I’m not holy enough. I’m not praying enough. I’m not poor enough. Whatever.
I find no comfort in the things I used to like because I believe they are forbidden me now. “You must be perfect even as your Father is perfect.” I’m not perfect and never can be.
We are commanded to ignore the things of this world, but after so many decades of pure heathenism, I don’t ‘get’ this. I always feel like I’m trying to shoehorn myself into some place I don’t belong and some person I can never be.
BUT.
But. But.
I KNOW this is the right church. And once you know the truth, how can you pretend not to, no matter how miserable you are?
I just wish I had my happy back.
We used to go to dinner after Vigil Mass and excitedly discuss the readings and homily.
And I recall the joy I felt when we attended our first Easter Sunday Mass. (before conversion). I practically danced out of the church: YAAAY! We did it! Now I can peel off my ‘grownup’ clothes and go out to brunch!
I remember silently praying during the RCIA scrutiny: PLEASE find me worthy! Please!
All that is gone now. I feel no joy whatever. I drag myself to Mass with gritted teeth because I must.
Here’s how I sum up the differences between Protestants and Catholics. (Please, no hue and cry; I know I’m missing important stuff, et cetera. I’m just trying to 'splain my dilemma):
Protestants: If God favors you, He gives you a Cadillac.
Catholics: If God favors you, He breaks both your legs and dumps you down a well.
Many Protestants live their lives as I wish Catholics would. They are forthright against abortion, homosexual ‘marriage,’ and the wanton destruction of our Constitution. And they are not afraid to say it aloud. We are supposed to do that, too, but often we remain silent. Why? Because we want to seem sophisticated?
I know that if I went to a Protestant church, I would be petted and told what a good person I am. On the other hand, I feel nothing from our Church but condemnation. I’m not good enough. I’m not holy enough. I’m not praying enough. I’m not poor enough. Whatever.
I find no comfort in the things I used to like because I believe they are forbidden me now. “You must be perfect even as your Father is perfect.” I’m not perfect and never can be.
We are commanded to ignore the things of this world, but after so many decades of pure heathenism, I don’t ‘get’ this. I always feel like I’m trying to shoehorn myself into some place I don’t belong and some person I can never be.
BUT.
But. But.
I KNOW this is the right church. And once you know the truth, how can you pretend not to, no matter how miserable you are?
I just wish I had my happy back.
