For the first 25 years of my life, I was a fairly good Catholic girl. I may not have followed all the rules or believed everything the Church told me to, but I went to mass on Sundays and Holy Days, fasted when I was supposed to, and tried to participate in church activities. Then I moved down here.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve basically become a non-practicing Catholic. The last time I went to church was Christmas Eve (making me a a Chreaster – someone who attends church on Christmas and Easter – a word my boss, Jocelyn, taught me in law school). And the time before that (excluds ing my cousin’s Latin mass wedding in November) was in July – before the campaign madness.
It makes me a little sad that this has happened to me. I may have struggled with my religion, but I always had mass on Sundays to tie me to it. Now I have nothing. My hold to the church has always been tenuous so it wasn’t that hard to break. I’ve had a hard time finding a church around here that I like and none of my friends are Catholic. All the Catholic churchgoers in Florida are 80 years old. All I want is a friendly, progressive church that isn’t going to preach to me about abortion and gay marriage every week. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. But I know I was spoiled living in Ann Arbor with all it’s liberalness.
Anyway, I’ve decided that tomorrow we will be going to church again. I love the Easter mass. It’s my favorite of the whole year. And then we will be going to brunch at a restaurant on the water. Ben’s family always does brunch for Easter, so I’m trying to do something familiar for our first somewhat major holiday on our own. I know our parents wish we were home, but the cheap flights just didn’t work around the necessary dates.
And then we’ll see what happens next Sunday…
my books. my life. 