Never let it be said that timeliness is my strong suit. Alright, answers to the questions asked of me.

@under_the_carpet asked:

ok. I don't know how to exactly put it into a question. But I always wanted to know more about your faith. It'll be a few.
I read you identify as catholic. To make it simple for me...WHY?
How "gnostic"/agnostic are you?
what do you do/think/feel when you stumble upon a 'rule' you actually disagree with? (or does that not happen?...I can't imagine.)
How do you 'solve' the god vs gay question in your head, that I see so many people struggle with?

Oh dear, you have asked a very complex and lengthy question that I'm not entirely sure I know all of the answer to. I was going to do a post trying to articulate some thoughts I've been developing on this very topic but, despite the many times I start, I haven't been able to bring anything to completion. Perhaps this may be a start.

As I've said numerous times in a multitude of places, most of my friends (or, at least, the ones I have generally most felt comfortable around or the greatest intellectual connection with) have been atheists. The Midwest region of the United States is home to a wide range of Christian denominations with an inclination to groups such as evangelicals and fundamentals. The Chicago-land area is, thankfully, a little less strong in the general social acceptance of these groups but the influence and individuals are there just around the surface (as I'm pretty sure I've mentioned at least once in a post this year). Mauger whatever changes I've had in my personal beliefs (regardless of spirituality) and religious beliefs over the years, I think there's been a constant that I've felt safer amongst the irreligious; maybe that's because my sexuality has always made me unable to feel fully accepted in most religious circles; maybe, as I said, it's because I've had more in common, generally; maybe other reasons or all of the above.

In college, I had doubts about the idea of God/s. While I've tossed out the fact casually a total of about five times since, I generally don't talk about that time period. I wasn't particularly happy there (though I'm sure there are many who eventually become atheists that feel the same feeling). The end result, however, was that I came to discover that I was far more strongly a religious person than even I had realized. For whatever reason, I tend to be inclined to the religious (as a concept, not the people, mind you); this was deafeningly clear to me when I was questioning whether to become an atheist. There are certain things which trigger off a sort of this-is-right-or-righteous-or-even-holy feeling for me; while I tend to value reason over feeling, I've found that particularly strong feelings tend to indicate something I think but haven't been able to put into rational words yet. The idea may be wrong but it's informative to know, generally, so I'll tuck it away and chew on it over time. There is a particular feeling I get when I encounter something I feel is fundamentally correct in a way. For example, I get that feeling when talking about governments and the freedom of religious belief. I don't know what to make of these feelings yet but I've found I also have them during religious experiences. This will be important later.

You ask how agnostic I am (Gnosticism is an entirely particular belief system that I've found fascinating, flirted with, but ultimately leave not feeling inclined to join). Ever since I seriously contemplated the question (whenever that may've been), I've been of the firm belief that, given the information that we have at this moment in time (and, admittedly, given the You-can-do-ANYTHING quality we tend to ascribe to God), anyone who can say – with zero doubt – that there is or is not a God/s has lost all intellectual currency ze may have had in my eyes.

Many atheists describe themselves as skeptics. I find that it's my skepticism that allows my religious belief. I simply cannot believe, with all that remains left unknown about the universe, that we can so soundly rule out the idea of God/s. Of course, any truly rational atheist would tell you that the degree of evidence inclining that there exists some supernatural being of the sort often described is outweighed by the evidence indicating that there is no such being; ze simply chooses to go with the more believable option. And that's fair; I'd be inclined to wager that atheists have a more sound argument, really. Still, I find myself religious.

I do think part of it has to do with the fact that I tend to be a moral absolutist. Maybe it's also the fallout of being a rationalist. Everything has an answer. It may be complex and vary by certain conditions but everything can eventually be explained in a concrete way. When I first joined Williams Secular Community and we went around the room having each person say something that ze believed in, I wanted – as the sole religious person in that room – to say something other than "I believe in God" or something of that stripe. What I eventually decided on was "Perfect reason/logic is infallible". There is one vague bit to it, obviously. "Perfect logic" would seem to indicate that there is no contradiction or breaking of logical rules. The issue is, if you don't have information about something, you can't make certain deductions (e.g. if all you know about the sun and the moon is that they're round, you may say, "Sun = Moon," but that clearly isn't correct). So part and parcel to this idea is that all information relating to the subjects involved is considered and known.

But I bring it up because I think it is indicative of my thinking process. To speak vaguely and allow variance until I have a greater understanding, I believe in a notion of Truth. We live in a reasonable and logical universe. It's a curious thing that there are even laws to our world, particularly if there is no creator; certainly it's not impossible for such world to exist without a creator (we would be the evidence) but it is curious. And I think, more so than the notion of a God existing, I have a need to believe that there is a sort of universal Truth that we can all reference and aspire to. I need order and I need logic; it doesn't have to be intellectually created (in the conversations I've had with my brother over the idea of an absolute morality, there has been some pretty fantastic discussions over the notions of systems (something that's a fascination of my own); assuming that there is no God, it's rather interesting the way that systems have been able to crop up naturally in our world and the way they sustain themselves in spite of it seeming they would need a designer). But, for whatever reason, I need to believe there is an order to the universe and a way that is proper to act in the same way we "all" acclaim the notion of freedom of speech for proper governments or believe in and celebrate the capabilities and self-belief in humanity as exercised through the government of a republic or believe in the great works and arts over time or believe in great ideas and celebrate philosophy. The greatest thought process that Western civilization ever accomplished was the notion that ideas could be ordered by logic and, by extension, you could come to finite conclusions about things, that not every single idea was necessarily correct. For better or for worse, I truly believe this.

I tend to think that the notion of a Creator best explains this but, as I've mentioned, I do not necessarily think that has to be the case. To sort of put it another way and in relation, I once said on here, "If anything must be told about my spirituality, let it be said that intelligence was my religion, and education, my worship." If anything was ever to be described as my religious belief, it is these notions. Most everything else is debatable.

Of course, none of that really explains "Why Catholicism?" (oh dear, this is probably going to take a while – but you asked the question). There was a moment, one time, when I was with my sister (and in a somewhat giddy and snarky mood) when I remarked (and, no, I don't recall what excited this remark), "The Evangelical believes that the root of all things tie back to God and, due to this, we ought to worship Him; all reasoning proceeds from thus and it is all he or she pursues. The Catholic, however, seeks Truth."

For those (generally those who tend to have a thing against Catholicism) who might take that to insinuate that God is not important to Catholics, I would easily respond that, of course, Catholics believe all things proceed to and from God but that is merely a portion of the Truth.

To somewhat explain my snark* and to provide another example, I have a very dear friend of mine who grew up in a very fundamentalist, evangelical town (though, really, she's  not the first friend I've had who's had a very negative experience in such an environment); as someone who was remotely agnostic (her parents are Unitarians), most of her time there was having people trying to convert her, feeling continually judged, and just pretty much being treated poorly (by my own standards, at the very least). By the time she got to college (thus where I met her), she was a fairly bitter, hard-line atheist. I forget the exact details of the story but she overhead (somewhere) an eventual mutual friend of ours mention that he was Catholic (maybe it was some orientation event?); shortly after, she cornered him on a bus the group was riding and, without much ceremony, immediately started grilling him regarding religious belief and why it was positively ridiculous to have any.

During this, she asked him, "Well, I don't believe; does this mean I'm going to Hell?" to which, with some confusion, he responded, "No." This took her a bit by surprise; as far as she had ever been taught, this was what religion boiled down to: believe or perish. So she asked, "You don't?" After a moment of hesitation, his response was, "I believe Catholicism is the best way but not the only way."

One more example. There's a book my mother has somewhere upstairs either written by or written about the pastor of the mega-church my aunt attends. On the back of the book, in large letters prefacing the book summary, is a quote that says, "People matter to God; therefore, they should matter to us," (or something of the like). Fundamentally, such a notion could only occur from one who takes the Evangelical path to logical reasoning (okay, that's not entirely true but quite frequently). In contrast to this, I think it was Pope Benedict who said that sex purely for pleasure, even in the confines of a relationship, is selfish because the other person is, thus, neglected. I, ultimately, disagree with His Holiness's proof but there's still a marked difference between the two forms of reasoning. The pope tries to give a reasoned response and justification. The pastor has just said, "Well, God says so."

While I've explained "Why Religion" for me, I think the best explanation for "Why Catholicism" is simply that, for all its flaws and pitfalls, Catholicism is the closest thing to what I want in a religion here on Earth.

And I think that, in particular, is what most people don't get when they suggest for Catholics to convert to elsewhere. Protestantism, as a whole, is not really an avenue because I simply do not believe in being saved by Faith. I could probably be alright with a holy book inerrancy sort of deal but not with the sort of limiting views that that tenet is often taken to; I am always brought to appreciate more greatly that Catholics have Tradition and the Magisterium to pull from to better understand the Bible.

While the more liberal Protestant branches are probably more to my own political persuasion, I often find that the conservative criticism that, for them, "anything goes" holds true. It's very important to me that what you do is purposeful and fully thought out. I don't want to join a church simply because that was how I was raised and I want that special feeling (though, of course, that can be important). I want to make sure that, if my bible says it's okay to rape women, I have an actual response as to why that is. There was a liberal church in the middle of the campus of my college that was very awesome; they often worked with the Queer Student Union on campus, were very involved in social justice, etc. Being part of the QSU and InterFaith, I also worked with them. During conversation one time, the pastor mentioned that the church had been so focused on social justice (I believe that may have been the reason for their founding) that they've been trying to sort of rediscover their roots; while on this path, she mentioned that they were discovering all sorts of new things (as any root-searching should entail), including that there were parts of the bible they found they didn't particularly like. For me, dealing with those sorts of things would be where I'd build my base from.

People often assume that it's the High Church and elaborate liturgy I like and often suggest the Episcopalians or some of the Lutherans. But what these fail to realize are the ways in which Catholicism itself is quite unique. I'll see if I can do it any justice in trying to point it out.

I doubt I'll really explain it well but, if any religion could claim the title, you could argue that Catholicism is wedded to intellectualism. Perhaps extremely influenced by Roman and Greek culture (i.e. the Hellenic culture that had culminated by the time of the Roman empire), many in the early church philosophied about their religion (it's probably what earned religion the title of Queen of the Sciences). It's why they came to believe that God made the world ex nihilo (out of nothing): if God had to stoop to making the world out of existing material, that means there are things which even God couldn't control/do, etc. which would make Him less than an ultimate God. They attempted to apply the philosophy (much to many other denomination's dislike) of Plato/Aristotle. When the empire fell, a lot of the books and records were kept safe by monks. This often means that the theology of Catholicism is so much more elaborate and complex and, in turn, deep. God gave us a brain: "We ought to use it" is the answer of Catholicism.

Once (I think when a televangelist came on the T. V.), I remarked to my brother, "I don't think I could ever stand worshiping in a religion that didn't have a liturgy." Of course, my smart-ass atheist brother responds, "I don't think I could ever stand worshiping in any religion." Maybe it's because I'm a writer and English major but I take symbolism and gestures very seriously. Naturally, liturgy is very cool to me (and also very beautiful; have you heard the chants Catholics and the Orthodox have churned out?). And, to a degree, I really like ritual. I'm not entirely sure why. The Catholic response is that, when we worship, we should worship with more than just our minds: the entire bodies ought to be involved in the process.

And the last way I can attempt to let you understand "Why Catholicism" is the Catholic conception of the Church. I don't know how familiar with Christian theology you are but the idea of the Church is important to the religion. After the Protestant Reformation, the idea of what the Church is was to be understood as the body of Christian believers. This is partially, I think, why you have so many denominations and a lot of people feel comfortable (in the U. S., at least; I've heard it's a phenomenon frequent to us) church hopping: go the Methodists one week, go the Lutherans another Sunday.

For Catholics, we believe that the Church is the institution founded by Christ and as it exists today. But the Church is more than just an institution. It is the body of Catholic believers but also an instrument through which the Holy Spirit works. The pope doesn't get infallibility because we decided we wanted to listen for the rest of our lives to whatever an elected member had to say. The pope is infallible because (in theory) God the Spirit is working through him and guiding him as He is working through the entire Church.

You might respond with, "So what?" The significance of this is that God is active constantly through the institution that you reside in. It is not just that you're attending church; you are in the Church. It's for this reason that the Sacraments (Baptism, Confession, Marriage) can make sense to us while it just confuses other denominations as a pathway for Grace. It's not just actions being performed, they are actions being performed by and in the Church; it is God working through us. In a real physical way, God is presenting Himself before us.

And with that, there's this real sense of security I have as a Catholic that goes beyond just belonging to an organization that is huge. Anytime I go to a Catholic Church, I know any Sacrament I may receive is valid and facilitated by God, regardless of who is giving me the Sacrament and their past. I think that's also why a lot of Catholics have remained Catholic in spite of the scandal and abuse recently: there are terrible people in our Church, as in all institutions, but they are not all of what the Church is. The Church spans across generations and is more than that. We would rather call for greater accountability and try to call for prosecution from within rather than ever leave the Church.

When I was younger and dealing with the fact that there were certain attitudes within Catholicism that I didn't quite agree with, I'd take comfort in the fact that something like 60% of Catholics didn't obey what came from the Vatican. But, in a real way, we never stopped being Catholics. We still attended Mass, went to Sunday or Catholic schools, socialized in the circles, prayed in the same buildings, went to confession under the same priests. I don't think I understood it then but the reason I could find such strength inside those Cathedral walls while fragrantly disregarding the hierarchy was because, I knew, we were right. And in the end, that's what God cares about (Catholicism is about finding Truth). And we were safe within His halls of His Church. Frankly, the only other religion I can think of with anything close to such a concept is Mormanism.

And I guess that's a good place to address your question of what do I do if I come across something I don't agree with. In technicality…there isn't anything. And part of this stems from the fact that most people don't understand how Church doctrine is formed. All that which is declared infallible and dogma is binding. Anything less is decreasing levels of required adherence but not anything which cannot change in the future.

So, for example, I believe Purgatory has been dogmatically defined. You can't be a Catholic if you don't believe in Purgatory. However, while the hierarchy's position at the moment is that homosexuality is "severely disordered" (as in against the order of the universe), it is not something dogmatically defined yet. To a certain degree, I like this because it gives us a stable base from which build knowledge and keep unified. Someone like Curtis (who I really rarely agree with) and I can talk about something pertaining to Catholicism and be entirely on the same level because we both are Catholic.

And I think the last thing I'll mention as to why I'm a Catholic is that, as far as I can see, Catholicism is the only religion that still seems to be growing. Most religions really tie themselves to the idea that nothing will ever change about them; they will always honor their past. Which, to be honest, is true of Catholicism (kinda hard not to be when it's a religion that uses Tradition as an authoritative source). But Catholicism doesn't change in that whatever it declares dogma can never be revised; other religions never change in the sense that everything they've done in the past is all they'll ever do (I once had someone who was Orthodox tell me that the Orthodox have it right because they've changed nothing since (I think…) the Forth Council; Catholicism, on the other hand, comes out with a new dogma "every two years"). The idea of Catholicism is that the Truth is never changing – we just don't know all of it yet; over time, we gain a greater and greater insight into what that Truth is. Which, really, is the basic idea of discovery. But it means that really interesting things happen and not everything is quite understood. For example, we know that, for whatever reason, the Sacraments were established for transmuting Grace and that Baptism redeems the soul of the Original Sin. And yet current thought within the Church is that people who haven't been baptized can be saved. After all, what about babies that die before the chance to be baptized? I don't believe the idea of Limbo has been entirely thrown out yet but you don't have many clamoring towards the idea. So, if you can be saved without baptism…what's the point of baptism?

As far as I know, the Church's answer is that we don't know. We'll eventually know. But not yet.

 

All that said, I'd be lying if I said that Catholicism is everything I want. While women ordination and homosexuality haven't been dealt with as dogma yet, either of those being dogmatically banished would probably force me to have to find another religion. There's the fact that the notion of preparing for shabbat has always elicited that feeling of something being *right* in me…and I had never prepared for shabbat until I had reached college.

And there's the real troubling fact that Christianity tends to start from this path of "We're all guilty". It's true that Catholicism does a bit better in being firm that the Original Sin is not a sin for which any of us are at fault for (even if we still bear the scar upon our souls) but there is a *real* problem that I have with this notion of guilting ourselves (at its worse, I've seen people make the argument that none of us deserve Heaven, even just-born babies).

The New Testament is actually rather interesting in terms of its political stances and the ways it tries to reverse common norms (the most well known one being the notion of the weak/meek being powerful/"the stone that the builder rejected"). And so it goes with the notion of works. Yeah, being good? Throw out everything you thought you ever had to do. You actually have absolutely *no way* of doing it without Him.

Which, in a way, I get. It's the ultimate type of trust exercise. Throw out any expectation of your abilities and your capability to do anything and just entirely trust that He's got this.

What I absolutely hate about this notion is that, when you take away a sense of responsibility and choice in the direction of your life, it's hard to really impart a sense of…awareness in people. I earnestly think this is why my friend who grew up around fundamentalists was treated so amazingly poorly. Those people have ceased entirely thinking about any of the actions they're committing and how they're treating her; in their minds, the most important thing is you follow Jesus (BECAUSE NOTHING ELSE MATTERS) and, if you don't follow Him, you're breaking the cardinal rule. And that's the scope of their thoughts. You can't get to "Well, let's think about how you're treating her" because, literally, nothing else matters beyond whether or not you're following that rule of believing in Jesus. Anything outside of it is wrong. Why? Because anything we do outside of trusting entirely in God and getting others to do so as well is irrelevant. Irrelevant.

And I get that, in some way, it was trying to respond to a sort of legalism that was cropping up and the sort of people who do good just to look good. But I really think that when you start from a point of "You are disordered without Me", you endue this real sense of inferiority in individuals. I truly believe a just God doesn't tell you you're shit so you better believe in Me (but that's gonna be difficult too 'cause, you know, you're disordered) but tries to build the individual up. Let's stop focusing on following this one inane rule (and worrying about all the suffering you'll get otherwise) and instead focus on the fact that you're not entirely terrible (but wonderful in many ways) and that doing better and being a better person is important because it'll make you better and it's important to treat others well. The important thing is NOT how many times you fail but how much closer you are to making the world a better place because, really at the end of the day, it's every one that's important.

I do think Catholicism is a bit better at this; a lot of denominations disagree with it because Catholicism teaches that you can lose your salvation even if you believe in God: your actions are of important. Still, there are some strains of serious guilting and "Forgive us Lord because we are so unforgivable!" that I find to really be just unhealthy and abusive habits.

I also sometimes have to remind myself that our understanding changes. It was once understood that "There is no salvation but within the Church" meant within Catholicism but it's now understood as the Church being tied to that notion of the Truth; Catholicism is the best path but not the only one. That's a big change in meaning though the dogma didn't change at all. So who knows.

 

Anyway, if you don't find religion interesting, all of that must've been terribly tedious and boring and I apologize. I'll answer your last question further below since Danni asked a similar one.

 

@XxbutterflyknivesXx asked:

You've indicated on Facebook, and partly here, that you strongly support the LGBTQ movement...and a lot of the time people support movements because they've experienced struggle...is there's a story behind it? Do you identify as a different sexuality than hetero/are you closes to someone who does?

Man, you guys go straight for the meaty questions. I should be able to keep this one shorter than the last answer.

I've always firmly believed that it shouldn't have to take personal involvement to be passionate about something. Caring about others should be something that we just do. The two examples I usually bring up is that I've never self-injured or been Trans and yet I'm supportive of these communities (though, to be fair, a good portion of my ex-girlfriends and friends have had histories of self-harm and an ex-boyfriend and friends of mine have been Trans). I've never quite understood that notion of "Well, it doesn't affect me, so why should I care?" I tend to make decisions constantly by thinking from others perspectives and trying to think who I might be disadvantaging with a particular decision; it always catches me off-guard when others don't do that (and it's usually pretty obvious pretty quickly when someone is making a decision based off their own interest and clearly haven't considered anyone else's) though I suppose that's naïve of me.

I do identify as bisexual (though I suppose the ex-boyfriend part above may've given that away). But, at the time that I really jumped into the movement (I sorta consider that moment when I decided, in spite of my parents' opinions on the matter, to attend a meeting of my high school's Gay-Straight Alliance; I was quite a bit homophobic before that moment; thank God for change), I was taking the route of "God doesn't approve but I believe everyone has the choice so I'm going to support others ability to have that choice". So I really wasn't doing it on my behalf, frankly. The slow and rather boring story of my coming out was this slow progression of my views on the subject changing until I finally reached a point where I fully accepted myself and was able to see all the fascinating history and ideas that the Queer community really does have to offer. So you don't really get any dramatic conflict about my identity; I just slowly made decisions and, really, was very comfortable about who I was and what I believed.

Which doesn't mean there aren't cool stories, of course. As you might imagine, I was *quite* the closet case throughout all of high school. I told people I trusted and it got to the point that I had to keep tabs on who I had told and whatnot; that way, I could also keep track of when someone I didn't tell had found out and figure out who was blabbing. Seriously, I was so far into the closet back then. I came out at the very end of my Senior year (I was graduating, going out East; it seemed safe). Beforehand, I messaged just about everyone I had secretly come out to (thus people I trusted) and talked it over with them. Then I came out on Facebook (ahh, the Internet age…). Everyone was so amazingly supportive. It's honestly one of my favorite memories. And, I guess, since I had the big coming out, it always confuses me when people don't want that (but, then again, I always had a thing for dramatics). For me, my coming out was such a huge moment in my life; you know, it's making a very big decision about what you believe and who you're going to be. I've always wanted to get in the habit of having a party every time the day I came out comes around but I haven't gotten around to doing it yet. It was just this moment of baring a very personal part of me to all these friends who were really important to me and who I think so very highly of and it was just great to feel that same respect and love back.

If you do identify as a sexuality other than hetero, how has that been met? I know, and someone else has mentioned, that you're Catholic...has your family/other people in your faith had a problem with you?

Well, I did have someone tell me I was possessed by a demon once so that was fun. Though, really – since I generally don't care too much what strangers think of me –, I think the largest difficulty has been from the family. Siblings and cousins have been fantastically supportive. I generally just don't talk about it with any of those over-40 folks. My dad knows. And I have a feeling I could probably get my mother to accept it (one of the uses of taking 4–5 years to accept yourself while being active in the cause is the parents just sorta get used to it). I just don't care to. But, of course, you always have to be vigilant, regardless of how much you might not care what strangers think. I'm truly amazed at how much things have changed since the beginning of high school when it comes to public acceptance (and how about from there since the 60s?). But people are assholes and, unfortunately, hate crimes are a real thing. I've been generally safe from any of that so far, though.

Also, what do you do? I remember, you have a major in English, yeah? Or are you taking the gre to get the degree for what you want to do? I know a lot of people do graduate school because what they want to do requires more. Sorry if that's a stupid question.

That's correct. And I also have Computer Science and Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies degrees. And they have earned me no occupation. Though, frankly, I do feel that part of that is simply that jobs expect work experience. That can be, in many ways, more important than the degrees you have. Partially because my coping method for both my depression and my parents was shutting everything out and partially because my parents didn't seem to find it important to explain this clearly, I did not spend my summers in college looking for internships or some way to pad my résumé. Now I've been trying to find work in a poor economy while balancing a severe sleeping problem along with a general social anxiety and my raging depression. It's not been well.

I'm considering grad school simply since it's been a year now that I've been unemployed. If I could get a Master's (without sinking myself in debt) for Comp. Sci. or English, it might help in getting a job. I also wouldn't mind becoming a professor somewhere. But my grades weren't so great so who knows. I'll keep you updated.

If it's not weird or intrusive...how much younger is your little sister? 

Heh, not in the least. She's seven years younger. Now I'm just curious, why do you ask?

How does the writing process work for you? Do you plan, or do you just sit down and write? Because, if you just sit down and do it...that's kinda impressive. I feel like your work should be in a literary magazine or something, and not just buried on xanga.

Well now, that is a high compliment, particularly considering that I've submitted pieces to places before and none took (though, to be fair, I haven't submitted to many places); I hadn't realized you thought so highly of them. Thank you, sincerely.

Honestly, I'm terrible at just jumping into things. Probably also my perfectionism but I need to have a full idea of what I'm doing before I start. That being said, I pulled "A Memory" from a larger piece of flash writing I had done. That last post I did was three lines from something longer I wrote years ago without thinking it through. And the new thing I'm working on (involving the characters Chrissy, Amy, 'Rome, and James) has been (largely) just written down without a great deal of pre-thought though that's because it's not as short as I usually tend to make my pieces and I have a feeling I'll never get anything done if I be my usual anal self.

I think, either way, the thing that's consistent is that I tend to sit and chew and edit on things until I get them right. I'll notice something I hadn't before and then do edits. Sometimes I'll force myself to write something I then think I'll throw away just in case I come back in 6 months and decide that I actually was going somewhere and just need to flesh it out (or if there's a piece in there that would be great without all the extra fluff I wrote).

 

Aaaand that should be it. Hope I answered your guys' questions well enough.

 

 

 

*I'm usually incredibly slow to pass judgment or assume things simply because I could be wrong. The only real area where I'm generally willing to be strict in an opinion is when it comes to harming others. As such, I generally try to refrain from speaking negatively about Evangelicalism as if it's a given; that said, I have no a great deal of people who've been harmed by members of that religion and have generally found the culture that it propagates to be unhealthy not only for those who come into contact with it but also those who practice it. Obviously, no one enjoys being greeted on the terms of "Your religion is terrible" so I try to refrain and keep an ear open as to whether I may actually be wrong but I, at times, forget myself.

@XxbutterflyknivesXx

Habemus Papam.

 

 

He is not remotely as progressive as I would have wanted (unsurprising), though ground-breaking in many ways (pleasantly surprising).

It is done; I submit to our Holy Father's wisdom in informing my conscience, which has primacy in so much as I can discern it, with assurance that God the Spirit dwells within him as Vicar of Christ.

Our Body is whole again.

And Jesus came into the quarters of Cesarea Philippi: and he asked his disciples, saying: Whom do men say that the Son of man is?

But they said: Some John the Baptist, and other some Elias, and others Jeremias, or one of the prophets.

Jesus saith to them: But whom do you say that I am?

Simon Peter answered and said: Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God.

And Jesus answering, said to him: Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jona: because flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but my Father who is in heaven.

And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven.

The Father which is not the Son which is not the Spirit which is not the Father is our God with the Son and the Spirit; the Lord is one.

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There is something which gets stirred within me at the professing of that Sacred Mystery, every time.

It is the same feeling I have when standing before the amazing architecture of the Library of Congress or reading Shakespeare or simply taking in a beautiful day or taking in a particularly ingenious intellectual argument.

I've always maintained, to some degree (and this is growing as time goes on), that there is very little difference between all these things; this, I would imagine, can be used to bolster an argument for absolute morality.

This has also led to the confusion some have had to how I've viewed being religious and being a secularist as being seamless.

But I don't want to discuss any of those things, things which have either been discussed in detail before here or would require detailed discussion that would escape the point I do want to address.

 

Rather, read the portion listed below. It'll help me make my point, in my usual round-about way of doing things (also, it contains potentially offensive concepts if you're of more restrained mind about thinking about God).

An excerpt:

Growing up outside the church, I'd drawn my ideas about the Catholic god from Fellini movies as being something like Anita Ekberg driving a red Ferrari. It had never occurred to me to ask the question "Is God fuckable?" because I never doubted the answer. It's one of the reasons I wanted to be Catholic.

When I first started going to Mass, in my thirties, I'd been studying Saint Augustine and was soaked in his language of intense longing for God. I wasn't surprised at all that in one of the first homilies I heard, the priest said he wanted Jesus to be his lover. I didn't realize this was an extraordinary thing for a priest to say. The mystics are always saying stuff like that. Sitting in the pews for a few years, I figured out that when it comes to sex, parish priests more usually offer a mix of awkward shame and romanticism right out of junior high. Mostly, though, it's just not mentioned.

Catholic religious imagery is intense, but after a while, it can become as unremarkable as a pair of slippers. You almost have to be an outsider, a newcomer, or in some sort of crisis to notice it. 

Took me a while to slip into the slippers. Once when I was supposed to lector (read out loud) at daily Mass, I glanced at the reading beforehand and saw it was something about Jerusalem offering her abundant breasts to suck and fondling you on her lap (from Isaiah 66, I think). 
The priest who was due to say Mass that day was a man I wasn't altogether at ease with, and I didn't really want to read this facing him across a small room. 
I said to the guy who set up the daily Masses that I didn't feel comfortable reading this passage. 
He looked at me, absolutely shocked. "But it's scripture," he said. 

I knew he would read it if I insisted, but I thought, OK, fine, lepers or lambs, it's all the same, people don't even hear it. So I read it and the priest stared into space and I stared into space and I could have been reading the Lord's laundry list.

The passion, the body, can get pretty drowsy and domesticated in church, like urgent desire does if you give it warm milk and don't poke it with a stick. Still, it's there if you want it, or if you need it, and if I asked most Catholics I know if God is fuckable, I think I know what they'd say. 
They'd say something like, The world is a sacrament. Take and eat.

Now, the idea of God being "fuckable" is something completely new to me. The author's assurance at how most Catholics would respond to such a question sort of makes me wonder what world they live in and where would one find it.

Yet the questions of sex and, in particular, the religious rituals toward the end do strike a cord.

While I have yet to find the strains of liberal thought I am so certain are within Catholicism (somewhere…), the openness about sex in the context of religious imagery certainly rings true within my knowledge. I once had someone try to tell me that notions of homosexuality in older texts were simply people misreading descriptions of encounters with God because such encounters can take on a seemingly sexual nature (which only serves to reinforce the sacredness of sex and its sacramental component). It's one of the many ways Catholicism seems to gray what is normally taken as strictly black-and-white concepts in religion (though never going nearly as far as some would like and always having an explanation that maintains the traditional viewpoint). It's hard to explain unless you have familiarity with such things (or, seemingly, familiarity with Catholic thought, which is funny to me given my own late blooming that I keep coming back to on this xanga).

But there's something more.

It's that last portion (which is really so beautiful, if understood in its context, that I can barely take it): "They'd say something like, The world is a sacrament. Take and eat."

Someone once told me they couldn't see themselves part of any religious branch which didn't have some notion of the sacraments. I couldn't have understood it then but I have come to. And, for those unfamiliar with the concept of the sacraments, I could give you a description but I don't think it would suffice.

Thus, for now, I shall simply address the sacrament which the passage is clearly alluding to: the Sacrament of the Altar, Holy Communion, the Eucharist (arguably, the focal point about which all of Catholicism circles; without, there is no Catholicism, no Church, no Faith).

For some, this is a concept entirely bereft of familiarity (which, for me, makes it all the more singular and significant).

To make allusion to the Eucharist (the literal embodiment of God offered to us as sustenance, both spiritual and physical) is not simply to say enjoy experience or "take the most out of life". It is to literally make this engagement a holy and spiritual act given to us, again in a spiritual context, by God.

 

I have continually said that I like that Catholicism takes every experience into consideration in worship: we cross ourselves to engage our touch as we simultaneously speak aloud our belief in the triune God, we use all the visual glory that candles might give a service and incense to reach our scent, etc.

This concept can go into all sorts of fascinating conversations about the state of human nature and its relation to the spiritual, etc. but I don't want to address those here. Rather, in that context, the sacraments take on a more defining conceptualization.

They become a sort of testament of sorts, helping to define the religion. In the ways of symbolism so defining for Catholicism, defining the religion around the Eucharist (for everything that it is from having to physically enact it out to the fact that is the act of eating to the spiritual concept behind its action) sets, tenfold, fundamental concepts about the religion at its very foundation.

Perhaps this is the best (for now) way to describe why we become so impassioned by our sacraments.

And it explains why the recitation of that Sacred Mystery at the top can be such a high to partake in. Were I more of a Protestant, I suppose it'd be the same for reciting John 3:16. Or the love of life without the Spiritual for the Secular Humanist. Or that the Summation of Life is to give Life meaning for the Existentialist.

And the reason the end of that above passage is so great is that it ties these other aspects of life into these defining concepts of the Faith as seamlessly as these definers illuminate the Faith (though the current hierarchy would protest to the fundamentalism I seem to see sex as having, even outside of matrimony).

 

Anyway (in spite of the difficulty to understand some of the above unless you understand what certain concepts mean and feel like), all of this was to articulate this emotion and the potential reasoning behind it.

And to say that, while I always have this religious-like experience with other religions or religious places (only part of why I was involved in interfaith activities), there is only one other religion (or religion-related to encompass when dealing with intellectualism, thus including my secularism) I have ever had a similar reaction to when encountering the whole of the religion and that is Judaism.

And I'm not really sure what to do with it.

Because I can, at times, be of poor memory, and the remembrance of memories is all that is left of what ever happened:

It was during finals period of this last school year. In my absolute anxiety, I hadn't bothered to've started writing my 15 page rough draft for my final paper for my WGSS senior seminar until the point that the paper was due. Between staying up and lightly sleeping in the hopes of even starting the damn thing, I had a raging headache by the time night had rolled around. Needless to say, I was miserably irate and depressed.

As I was rushingly trying to finish this late draft, I happened to notice it was 10 or 11 and that Theology on Tap had started. Based off of a Catholic event that had started in Chicago, Williams's version was to get all of the chaplains together, and students would ask them any question they wished regarding religion. It's one of my favorite events of the year, not held too frequently, and I had already missed the last one or two times it had last occurred. I figured the brief escape might help my morale to some degree.

I was partially wrong. A few students were questioning the history of the church and Father Caster was feeling harassed (I expect his family troubles didn't help to put him in any sort of calm and explaining mood). There wasn't much room, so I sat at the end of one of the benches and just tried to avoid any light.

A little bit later, some room opened up next to Julia. They offered for me to move away from outside, on the edge of the circle. I naturally declined at this sudden and unexpected change. A few minutes later, upon considering that it'd be nice to be next to Julia (who had been becoming a closer and closer friend to me over the past few months), I decided to move over.

Julia, recognizing I was hardly in remotely a good mood, put her arm over my shoulder as I sat down. As the event went along, Father Caster was responding to another person's question (actually, all the chaplain's were; I just remember Father Caster's response). It may have been because of my exhaustion, but I don't recall what the question was; I think I sort of came in, while Father was already giving his answer.

From my vague memory, he was describing how some aspect of his answer related to when we care about someone else. Gah, this is going to irritate the shit out of me now, because I do think his wording was very important to how the scenario played out. Regardless, to paraphrase, he was describing that when we care about someone, we take care of them, we do actions that mean something to them.

As he was in the middle of describing this, I thought I ought to knowingly nudge Julia. It was the kind of private exchange that I particularly enjoy and also a means of reciprocating the (what seemed to me) wholesale over-credit Julia had been giving my character as of late. Perhaps I'm just a slow creature (in that choices, decisions, and – at times – actions ought to be approached only when entirely certain), and what seemed to me like a very quick shift from being somewhat-alarmed-by-me/acquaintances to being close friends (in that loyalty, fondness, and feeling safe enough to lean upon the other were at play) was hard to justify in my head; not that I didn't appretiate and welcome these things: I simply had a hard time understanding their occurrence.

In the time it took for me to debate whether to do this (rather, there was no debate whether I should; it was that, once again, any action that was not thought was exceedingly draining of me in such a depressed state), she nudged me. I glanced up to see her knowingly smirk at me. I, in turn, nudged her back, smiling with what energy my body was willing to concede.

 

It would be false to say I did not have any friends at Williams. I did not have as many close friends as I would like (certainly less than I had upon leaving high school), though it would be false, I think, to say I had none as well. I think the most irritating thing of the entire experience, though, is the way that I felt most people didn't try to get close to me at all (some did, to be sure). I would like to firmly place the fault of which upon my own introversion and aloofness and, therefore, utterly out of a fault of their own.

There is a phenomenon that I feel I occasionally hint at or passingly refer to from time to time on here in my life, where I find an aspect of myself which I recognize now but would seem to have roots that trace back to some point that fades into the past, and I can no longer discern it distinctly. My liberalism (and the creeping feeling that this was retrieved and enforced by my surrounding culture throughout the entirety – just about – of my childhood) is one of them.

And, it would seem, my Catholicism is one as well (which is particularly bizarre to me), because I really never identified strongly with my Catholicism until college. I don't believe I ever have mentioned this here (though I started to actually notice, and mention, it for the first time after discussing religion in college, first in Williams Secular Community, then with Arantza, Andrew, and Kahn, and then in InterFaith) but, in spite of attending Sunday School (on and off) and stepping foot into a church at least half of the year (Catholic, naturally), I didn't really have a particularly Catholic identity. Sure, I identified as Catholic, but my religious affiliation could really have been better described as a Christian identity than a Catholic one.

America is a Christian nation – insofar that "Christian nation" means one based upon a premise of generic Protestant Christianity largely due to a bizarre necessity, by a decent amount of people, for evangelism (including tacit evangelism like politicians feeling it's necessary to say God bless at the end of every speaking engagement, regardless of zir own religious identifications or those whom ze is addressing) and a held belief that, so long as we all believe in JESUS, everything else will turn out fine (seriously, though, we need to all agree on that one fact – we do, right? Right?).

The downfall of this approach (other than the glaring fact of expected cultural religious conformity) is that a lot of the cool denominational diversity that exists is passed over. However, from a personal perspective, it robbed me of the diversity within my denomination by making me think that Christianity meant X (and, since Catholicism is a form of Christianity, Catholicism must mean X). This provided me with thoughts like Catholicism believed in sola scriptura (Latin for "by scripture alone"). Or, as I've complained irately a multitude of times here, sola fide (Latin for "[salvation] by faith alone").

This, in turn, had me stating that there was no real Christian denomination that I agreed with (how could I, when, in my ignorance, they all required faith for salvation?); I identified as Catholic, because that's what I grew up in and, therefore, was the place of my attendance (it surely had nothing to do with me agreeing with the theology).

This, I think, is why discovery of my Catholicism was this very cool experience (and welcome relief) in college. However, it was also a somewhat bizarre experience, as I realized that a lot of my religion fit me so well. This was bizarre because I had not sought out Catholicism for its stances (indeed, I was so utterly clueless the whole of my childhood as to what Catholicism stood for that I actually rejected it (as I did all Christian denominations) as an imperfect expression of my own beliefs; I had no issue with being Christian: I just didn't agree with the conclusions most Christian religions extrapolated from that). And yet Catholicism seemed to verify so much of what I did agree with:

We employ incense and cross ourselves, because worship should involve all the senses?
Cool; I never thought of theology in that light before.

Our liturgy, like aspects of our scripture and Jewish liturgy, ought to be symbolic and metaphorical?
Cool; as an English major, I can completely get that.

Our Mass should include beautiful music and incense and pretty stained-glass windows, because it ought to be art, because art is a means of connecting with the divine and Truth?
What a beautiful idea.

Reason and logic are tools given to Human-kind, and we ought to use them and, indeed, can (and ought to) use them to perceive and understand God?
How very Enlightenment like.

In lieu of the last point, there ought to be a respect for science as an explainer of our current universe? So much so that St. Augustine said that scripture should possibly be regarded as metaphorical if science contradicts it. On top of that, there's a very rich history of priests as scientists, as well as the church being a patron of the sciences; lest we forget, it was a priest that helped formulate the concept of the Big Bang.
Wonderful.

Of course, some of why I like those things (stuff like the use of reason and the importance of beauty/art) are because they tie us very close to a celebration to the human/earthly form (which, in turn, is why more on the Protestant side dislike Catholicism and just see it as an extension of paganism. All that incense, candles, and stained-glass windows? Just distractions taking your mind away from focusing on God during the service). Admittedly, my favorite priests were the ones who'd sit down with you around at a pub with a beer (or mix drinks) or join you to hang out somewhere or had experience at college campuses – imagine the somewhat portly priest so ridiculed during the middle ages, the priest perceived to be too much of this Earth, too down-to-Earth. Of course, theology was always so much more strongly about morality rather than how wicked the Earth itself is, so I've never been too afraid of celebrating and enjoying our Earthly humanity.

An orthodox Catholic would probably find a middle ground, of sorts. Certainly our humanity isn't to be wholly repudiated. After all, Christ became man, and what was his first miracle? Making water into wine.

But I think this highlights the final conclusion I came to: while Catholicism, I discovered, was the religion that fit me the closest (sans Judaism), I still wound up disagreeing with aspects of it. I graduated with a degree in Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies with a concentration in Queer Studies, after all. I would not be surprised to learn that the pope and I have some differing ideas. Despite the absolute unlikelihood of it, I want women ordained; I understand all reasons the why the church refuses on that point, but I can't – in good conscience – agree. And you know, really, my differences are small in number. But they all focus around things which are pretty much dogma by now. For all the changes the church can make (and they can be awesome; how the Mass is viewed after Vatican II is an awesome understanding and approach to our liturgy), they won't be any that address the bulk of my issues with Catholicism.

However, unless I decide to convert to Judaism, this is what I have. The time I became an atheist taught me (ironically) that I am a religious person; my understanding of the world involves religion. Honestly, I think it's inseparable from who I am (there's a reason I was co-president of InterFaith for two years).

However, this isn't a complete impediment. After all, I spent most of the entirety of my life in a religion that I disagreed with; I now agree with it so much more so, so it's even better than it was before, right?

And, really, I don't think I'm really making how clear I like a lot of Catholicism right now. I forget if I mentioned it on here or had only thought to, but it's very difficult to describe the feeling I got when hearing an organ playing from out of a cathedral while at Princeton for the interfaith summit. Or the sounds of, really, any form of chanting of psalms and hymns (though, naturally, Gregorian has a special place in my heart). And, of course, the celebration of the Mass.

But there's also another one of those phenomena I mentioned at the beginning of this post that makes my Catholicism so cozy. Again, for the life of me, I'm not sure where I get this feeling (in particular since I only really started understanding Catholicism in college), but there is a history of liberal Catholics throughout history, a group of liberal intellectuals who, in spite of their differences with Catholicism due to their liberalism, are fully Catholic (and are, in fact, liberal fully due to being Catholic). Yet, if you were to ask me for examples, I would come up short, which isn't to say that the idea is far-fetched. As I've already said, there is an emphasis and respect for intellectualism within Catholicism, particularly in the area of philosophy. And, while part of the reason you can consider the Catholic voting bloc Democratic for the most part (even to this day) is because most Catholic immigrants were Irish (and thus Catholic) while also being working class and, thus, labor (as well as Kennedy, obviously), I think it's telling, when Catholic no longer means Irish here in America, at least 50-some percent of Catholics are still voting Democrat. The only time I've actually really witnessed this was during my Senior year of college with Andrew. We were both pretty hard-leaning liberals, though of different stripes in the end, and yet entirely Catholic.

Both of us could back up why we do what we do during Mass and in most of our theology. Andrew was more versed in the philosophy used by Catholicism to justify itself. I'm pretty concerned regarding liturgy (including that outside of Mass). And, while I was always happy to find myself in a fully-Catholic room from time to time (due to, for nine elevenths of my life, not fully identifying as Catholic), Andrew and I would often laugh about what we disagreed with and perceived as ridiculous about our church (at one point, he mentioned that he thought he had heard that the papacy had released an official apology for what had happened with Galileo; we marveled how, in comparison to other Christian denominations, ours could get so many things right and yet others still so utterly wrong. Then we laughed as we noted the church had no problem with evolution (unlike other denominations) but still hadn't apologized for when it denied that the sun revolved around the Earth).

Side note: come to think of it, Kaz and I probably fall into that same place together, but I feel him and I haven't discussed politics enough for such a dynamic to unfold.

And this is my longwinded way of eventually reaching the point of this post.

I like my religion; I do. Actually, it's (admittedly) more torn than that, with high extremes of each end. While I often don't put anything in the collection plate each Sunday (in part because I don't really have any money, though more these days because I can't justify supporting financially an institution that I disagree so extremely on in some cases), I still vouch for the religion. But the point is, I'm trying to find my place in it. Based on the merits that Catholicism does have, I think we ought to root ourselves in that. In other words, Catholic culture. But what is that, exactly? Good question.

And these thoughts which are usually lurking around my head came to the forefront, when I came across this article: http://patrickdeneen.blogspot.com/2009/05/abortion-and-catholic-culture.html.

At first, I thought the article was going to make the argument that abortion and pro-life culture dominated Catholic culture at the moment (which, really, you can't create a culture around a singular idea), and it was because of this that people were leaving the church in droves (particularly young people). To quote two sentences from the article: "In my view, the singular focus upon abortion as THE issue over which conservative Catholics will brook no divergence and around which we are called to rally reveals, to my mind, not evidence of robust Catholic culture as much as its absence.[…]The ferocity over this issue – and this issue almost to the exclusion of nearly every other issue that might be part of a rich fabric of Catholic culture – suggests to me that Catholic culture, where it existed, has been largely routed."

Instead, the article is about how we live in American society's culture and not in a purely Catholic one, and this is why some Catholics feel okay not centralizing their Catholicism around abortion (after all, abortion is not at the center of Catholic spirituality or theology).

***Note: I'm not interested in contemplating the morality of abortion; that's not the point of this post. Everything written here will be sans my own opinions on abortion, if I even have any***

And this is somewhat central to my search for a Catholic culture or, really, namely a Catholicism I feel comfortable in.

As I noted to my dad a few days ago, I'm extremely conservative when it comes to liturgy (possibly a small part of why I'm so interested in Judaism – our liturgy came out of that, so, if you want to go back to the source…). On the other hand, as I've noted (and demonstrated) a multitude of times here, I'm extremely liberal (no surprise anymore). So, when I find someplace I really like worshiping, I will probably not be liked by most of the people there.

On the other hand, I agree entirely with the concepts of Vatican II regarding changes to the Mass. The difficulty comes with the part that calls for more local aspects brought in (which, ultimately, I do agree). A Mass is a Mass is a Mass. And while I recognize it as valid, it's not my ideal way of celebrating it (a valid opinion, I would argue, seeing that the very construction of the Mass was as an art to be enjoyed and admired). The part of the article that talks about how we are members of parishes (where we live) rather than shopping around for the right place and, thus, we have a culture of acceptance rather than transformation struck me as funny, largely because I've been going to different parishes to see the differing Masses because the one in my parish is far too liberal in its liturgy for my taste (and it's not even that liberal, by today's standards; it's actually rather common place – hence why I haven't settled for a particular parish yet).

Yet there's the rub. I agree with Vatican II (I know, technically I'm not supposed to even have the choice of disagreeing if I'm a part of this church, but clearly I'm not a fully orthodox Catholic). I don't disagree with these Masses; I simply dislike them (stylistically). There's an important difference in that.

So, in the grand question of what is Catholic culture, how do we decide in such diversity? Well, the first problem, I would guess, would be that you can't define culture around the Mass (though there are some interesting questions that arise from such an idea and I'm certain there have been Catholic philosophers (and I would probably agree) that there are ways to do so partially). Sure, liturgy can be important to culture, but, as I've said several times, Mass is not the only part of the liturgy. Did you know that it is practically literally impossible (I don't know if I've checked all the possibilities yet) to find a parish that celebrates Vespers within a 45 minute drive from my house?

Perhaps it's more linked to the problem that I tend to find in my own spiritual life. If it isn't obvious yet, I prefer liturgical religions. There are some liberal reasons for this involving analysis of systems and how it affects the adherents, etc. but I think this post is getting long enough as it is. Yet if I wanted to find other means of discovering the wealth of diverse and beautiful liturgy we have? It literally took me a year to fully understand what the Divine Office was, let alone how to practice it. And, if it weren't for the particular people in my life during that time, I don't know I would have discovered it so quickly; yes, you can always ask your priest, but doesn't it make more sense to have that information readily available somewhere in easy-to-digest form rather than putting it through a bottleneck of one person?

So where was I supposed to discover the wealth of my Catholic faith? Arguably, Sunday School (and, God knows, those poor teachers did their best) but you can't expect children from such a young age to truly value the information their receiving (at one point, one of the kids just played his Gameboy under the table while claiming he was meditating; I'm pretty sure my teacher just gave up).

But after that? Sure, my brother and I were made altar servers (from which I learned a great deal), but there really isn't any other means other than lector or Eucharistic minister – all of which doesn't really teach you or envelop you in the liturgy (particularly outside of the Mass). It envelopes you scripture, sure, but – you know – we're heretics and scripture alone isn't enough for us.

And this is why I got so excited about that article. I thought it was going to repudiate abortion (or same-sex marriage or contraceptives) as the pillar in which to encircle our culture around. Because you can't create a Catholic culture around an external cause. It has to involve more (and I do defend this point, even to the issue of poverty, an issue which has been a Catholic cause for ages and strikes directly to Catholicism).

You want to know why people are leaving the church? The first is that you're zeroing in on divisive issues (homosexuals and Transsexuals and condoms in Africa) and, like good Catholics, the laity is using their God-given reason to see that the church's position just doesn't make that much sense (plus, it hurts people). At least, that's my pet theory.

However, more so, you're not giving these people any alternative. A religion focused around fighting abortion is not going to keep people; people want a little bit more.

Give them something which makes them feel Catholic. Because, right now, there isn't really much. I was stuck in rapt horror during the Mass before the March for Life as it was built up to with generic worship music (which, naturally, all sounded the same and could think of remotely creative lyrics even though they're supposedly written for a higher power). I might as well have been attending any evangelical group back at home because there was hardly any difference other than there were a bunch of priests and seminarians walking around. The only point that an actual difference started to emerge was during the introduction of the bishops present and a reference to the relic being used on the altar (and, of course, the Mass itself).

Now, there's a long and personal history as to why I'm so bitter against such worship, but the point still remains: why am I bothering to stick with Catholicism when evangelicalism is offering pretty much the same thing? Evangelicalism is able to keep its adherents, because it operates on a system of fearing about your own salvation and the salvation of everyone you care about with a constant threat of going to Hell and an expectation to be continually perfect to the point that it becomes an informal (not always realized) game of bragging rights. This is not Catholicism (though, of course, with some of the laity (and apparently some of the clergy) seeing no difference between evangelical culture and Catholic culture, who knows anymore).

Setting up places to more easily understand and learn about liturgy would be a start, as well as the ability to learn about Catholic philosophy would be good.

Of course, they may end up tacitly (and then un-tacitly) agreeing with opposition to same-sex marriage, contraceptives, and the like. I need more liberal Catholics; where do I find them?

 

***Note: I think it's obvious, but better safe than sorry – when I refer to evangelicalism here, it's a rather large umbrella term and is referring to those groups I have personal experience with, rather than everyone. Further, it's more often in reference to evangelical culture than necessarily theology***

You know, I've become friends with this absolutely fascinating and wonderful person recently – and I can barely find the energy. It's weird. Because I've attacked my school work fine this year; assuming I get to next Wednesday and past my midterms and lab, I'm not burnt out yet. And I've kept up doing things; I'm running InterFaith still with a thoroughly wonderful board, I've been involved with the band still and even been doing a decent job as the MoCA (the group is looking absolutely wonderful this year). Keeping things up with Williams Catholic as well. But when I have to show initiative for anything, I find myself being dead. I just want routine and to get by.

Which isn't to say I don't want interaction with people. I think my club activity is a testament to that. And I'm still irate and irritated as usual about how my shyness is making interactions with people more difficult (having more organic and non-stilted conversations with Julia would really be nice, you know).

But I think the issue is that I want people to be interested in me. I'm sick of feeling like I sort of have to butt my way into conversations or actively say hello to people because, outside of what constantly feels like a small amount of people, no one would bother to care if I didn't. Or they say hello to be polite but couldn't really care beyond that. Or, probably, I'm just being over-dramatic as usual. It's funny; I used to have to try to find friends who wouldn't mind or would bother me to hang out because of my natural tendency and preference to being reclusive; the point being, the reclusive-ness didn't bother me. Now it irritates me that I go weeks without seeing some people other than running into people and yet it's my own damn fault.

I think, now that I think about it, that's the reason I've been so hesitant (that's actually being nice; it's been absurd to me, but it's actually been near-to complete apathy) about asking Margaret out. It's not like she's even been given a conscious decision about the matter yet (may not have even crossed her mind), so such behavior is not really fair to her, and yet I can't help but just not want to give effort to anyone who's not interested back; I want someone who is interested in me or what we're doing for just about anything I've had to do this year. So, I guess, that feeling of not wanting to even bother with those not interested back has just become instinctual, in a sense.

And the thing is, Amanda is thoroughly fascinating. I have a decent amount in common with her. Even for those things where we're not, she's still damn interesting. It's like, I've been saying for the past two years that I really want to get to know people more. Partial point of college, right? And, as I've said enough times to make the ears bleed on here, I am fascinated by the human personality. I like getting to know people.

And, if I'm sitting with Amanda in person (or anyone else, I've found), I could talk for hours. Share your life story, please; I can make time for a week a free time if it's needed. But this resistance to putting effort into anything seems to affect me in places where it doesn't even make sense. I feel like, back in the day, I wouldn't just respond to the E-mails Amanda sent me - I'd actively send others back that aren't just responses. I'd ask more questions than simply just respond to the contents. But I can't even muster the energy while not in person. I just want to dump the effort of anything we're doing on the other person, it seems. Which is stupid. It's not even helpful to the things I want. I'm struggling to find a way to label this even some sort of survival method.

You know, I thought I had gotten over this. It's not the end of 2009 anymore, Jon.

Note: I wrote this 24 hours ago, but was only able to reach internet to post it until now.

 

Long time readers will remember that I attempted the Überman sleep schedule sometime roughly around last year. After one of my posts, I simply ceased mentioning it, not mentioning whether I failed, decided I didn't like it, or succeeded.

I had intended to give a quick detail, but I was in the middle of my semester at the time. And my temperance has become more and more a slave to tempering my mood these past few years, as I've mentioned before.

I forget if I mentioned it them but, while others tend to feel immense tiredness during the process, I didn't have that problem as much. But I've noticed, as I've played with sleep deprivation more and more these past three years, that I seem to be able to handle myself without sleep shockingly well (even when I anticipate there being a problem). The main problem was the same problem I've always suffered with: not staying up but waking up.

Every so often I'd wind up oversleeping my alarm and, interestingly, wake up three hours later on the dot. Notably, I think such a pattern might fit in with the Everyman-3 schedule, which shocks me since I have skepticism of anything between a siesta sleep schedule and the Überman. Regardless, not only was such oversleeping problematic (I overslept two of my classes during that time), it was reduntantly pointless; overshooting my naps was not going to break me into the Überman, only provide a slightly uncontrollable sleep schedule that didn't yield the same clarity and lack of exhaustion that I could more often achieve on a monophasic sleep schedule (in retrospect, it's interesting to note that one of the reasons I ditched monophasic sleep was that it was, for me, disgustingly bloated and kept me feeling groggy every time I first woke up. The only time I actually seemed coherently energized to my fullest was when nighttime hit, so maybe I didn't actually lose anything during my polyphasic sleeping given that I was tired in both cases and my appetite for 12+ hour naps isn't exactly the definition of control either).

Given this situation, I decided to ditch the schedule given my certainty I would need a partner to even reach a point where I could finally determine if this thing was even possible, considering my inability to wake myself. No one at school was going to sign on to that.

 

Recently, I decided to rescind this decision. Notably, the smart decision would have been to start trying to accomplish this before three (going on two now) weeks until I go back to school. But I suppose it gives some slight comfort to know that jumping into things and discovering what can go wrong along the way is an impulse which hasn't died entirely in me yet.

However, there are other reasons why I need to do this. Once again, the amount of time I'd gain from only getting 3 to 2 hours of sleep per day are unspeakable. Particularly in the advent of upcoming school? I'm pretty certain that I couldn't have gotten done first semester last year had I not been operating on the Überman. It just opened up so much more time.

Which, of course, beats my need for over 12 hours of sleep (something continually set back until the weekend each week as I must wake up for class each day)…only to wake up groggy and, half the time, sore (not to mention the weakening of back muscles).

However, more than anything, my depression needed it. If you've read my xanga from its very beginning, one of the things I've continually lamented is – at times – a seeming slip in control. At first it was emotions and, I think (funny, no?), memory. Recently it's simply been life. For the past 2 months straight, I've been bogged by a consistant depression. As in, it has not lifted. There was no change, alteration, or simple peace for the past two months. It's like hitting a rut and just staying at that low.

Add to that lack of control my sleep schedule (plus the depression at times). I missed Easter Mass simply because I could not get out of bed. Muscles were working fine, but the brain seemed terrified by the very notion. I stayed in bed for 24 hours that day because of a combination of depression, anxiety, and exhaustion. And, of course, these things feed on each other. Stress and depression make you tired. Being incapable of making arrangements with friends makes you bitter, feeding the depression. And, above all, a feeling of lacking control is not something I can tolerate.

I can put up with people, most days. I can put up with everyone disagreeing with me or even the stupidity that humanity (particular en masse) can exhibit. But I need control. Part of why I can stick by what I say, think, and do is because I know backwards and forwards why I do it. I believe in it. I can back it. That's all I need to know. As long as I know I'm in control of what I'm doing and have a grasp on my surroundings, I'm okay. Being thrown into a new environment (college) and reliving just how socially awkward I am and incapable of doing things when uncertain of myself (mark that with being sociable in general) obviously doesn't help this. Adding depression and an inability to get out of bed? That's too much.

These past two months I've been drifting, more so than even I would want to. I've been distant, I've not bothered to instigate meeting up with people, and I've been beyond my usual un-initiating distant that I usually have with people. Sure, I've always maintained that I friend more extroverted and outgoing people because I need people who will remind me to meet up and keep in touch. But I've fallen behind in nearly all correspondences I've even started. I flat out missed meeting up with Allen this summer. I still have a slew of FB catch ups I need to respond to (including catching up with Emily Lin, for fuck's sake!). I've avoided IM to avoid talking to people. I've just been distant, too thoroughly comfortable with isolating myself like this. I have duties, such as working on Williams Catholic and the Moocow band's websites. But no.

As I've said before, I need purpose, and I need direction. For whatever reason, I lack at the moment. Since starting to try to jump into polyphasic sleeping again, I've broken that depression after two months; I have a goal, and I'm actually trying to accomplish it. Part of it too is, again, how my mood is affected. Having less time in a day exacerbates a feeling of being unable to do anything, which worsens my depression, which worsens my ability to do any of of the simple tasks in the paragraph above.

I need all hours of the day. I work in the night, when it's peacefully beautiful, and I can be alone. The morning, again beautiful, lets me rejuvenate. The day is generally dedicated to everyone else's needs (work, club responsibilities, shopping, etc.). Remove one of these and I don't have enough time. And my depression makes doing anything that belongs during a different time of the day grating because, simply, my depression doesn't want to do it (aren't mood swings fun?).

 

As to the drawbacks, I've never quite understood them. Sure, you have 6 half hour naps placed throughout the day. But they're only 30 minutes. I don't drink, as it is, so I don't have to worry about it crashing my drinking. If I was staying up, I can't imagine anyone I would hang out with would really be bothered by it. Further, if you're staying out for, say, 6 hours – you only miss a half hour of it. Plus, you can nap anywhere (if how they describe your reaction to the schedule is correct). And all the other benefits completely sideline this.

Further, I've already said I handle sleep deprivation fine. I already have to stay up to make up all the responsibilities I have to get done usually, so why the Hell not. Lastly, I have depression – living is a health concern. I get more stress than I normally should. Like I've said before on here, I will be shocked if I don't get type II diabetes by age 25. Shocking me in terms of everything I know about how I treat my body already, the doctor has told me the only thing wrong with me is my good cholesterol (it's scarily low) – so why not free up some time to do the exercise I need to fix that? Lastly – I'm young. And clearly my depression is the only one in favor of doing anything slowly, burning out like a candle.

And, like I've said before, death just doesn't scare me. Not that I don't think it's around the corner (everyday I feel like I could grab it and put it in my own hands, actually) – my quarter life crisis should make that one clear. If anything, I feel far older than I know I have any right to feel. I just…don't give a damn; and, really, this is the best choice. I need this.

I've kept oversleeping the first two days. I thought I found a fool-proof method by using headphones so that the alarm would shock me awake, but I would up sleeping through it for an hour and a half past my wake-time this morning at 8 (which probably wasn't any good for my ears, either…). I don't want to give up yet, though. If I can get past the first two, maybe three, days, I think I'll be golden. We'll see.

 

 

Earlier in the summer, I met up with Victoria and Laura. I forget the surrounding discussion but, at some point, Victoria mentions that Michelle and I should happen as a couple. This was, if my memory serves, shortly after Jeff's graduation party, during which Michelle and I wound up shoving cake down each other's clothes, make snide remarks at each other the entire time, and wound up watching the movie Jeff wanted to show us with me sitting on top of her the entire time (at first in an attempt to annoy her, then not bothering to move because apparently the pressure wound up helping some sore muscle). So, admittedly, I can see where she might've gotten the idea.

Regardless, I immediately told her no (I think my exact response might've been cocking my eyebrow and asking, "Why?"). I told her, for one, that I had a strong feeling that Michelle would say no right out the gate. And, even if that wasn't the case, Michelle and I – I think, at least – wouldn't be a good match. If she was also interested, sure, why the Hell not. But there isn't enough incentive for me to go out on that limb as things stood. Neither of us were so let's leave it at that.

Yesterday (alright, two days ago technically), I came across Michelle's OKCupid account. And I still have no idea what the Hell happened. I was amused and messaged her, both of us bantering as usual. And then…I started looking at her differently. And, again, I have no idea why. I don't know what exactly changed at that point from the other 5 years of our friendship, let alone the time between talking to Victoria and now.

So, it seems I've got a crush – which even I can admit is irresponsible and unwise. Why?

First and foremost, as I said before, Michelle and I don't really make matches for each other. While not a comment on it's supposed accuracy, even OKCupid ranks our chances of being a match at only a 67%. Yeah, I know, people don't have to match up on everything to be a fit but – in my case – they tend to have to.

I don't think I'd describe Michelle as a distant person; we've had serious moments in our friendship where we've really connected, though we haven't spent much time at all expanding that (though, admittedly, I realize now that our friendship hasn't been developed in a lot of ways, which is why we tend to stay on the annoying each other waveline most of the time). That said, though, Michelle even says in her profile that there needs to be a fair level of teasing in the relationship (if Larry was any indication, nothing too different that Michelle and I's friendship right now). And she at least says and puts on a higher self-esteem by far than me (though I do have slight reservations on that assessment). While I seem to be drawn to those with at least a somewhat extrovert personality, I like (really, need) someone with a fair dosage of insecurity, in part to balance my own and in part for other reasons I've listed out here in the past. Laura, jess, and Allison are all perfect examples of this.

Because, while clearly I can have an animated personality and my xanga is a perfect example I can be tersely caustic and raise a little Hell, I'm more often…not. I'm an introvert at heart, and I like myself that way. But, more pertinent to the point we're discussing (and as I said before), I'm insecure. I'm hesitant. I'm, all too often, severely emotional. I have a habit of taking care of others and need to be close to people. And – more than anything – if you're looking for someone wholly independent, I'm not. I've got baggage, a good 15 years of it.

Of course, I could be wrong. Our personalities might mesh just fine. But, from my very limited view, it seems to me that what we would want and need out of a relationship would vary too greatly for us to work long term.

There's also the timing of the stupid thing. Two weeks before I go back to school, I remind. While, actually, I might be more willing to do long distance with her while I explicitly didn't go chasing after other people for that very reason, distance was the splitter for her and Larry. While it seems she might've burned out her need to kinda run freely (again, me guessing), I wouldn't want to launch into something as restrictive as long distance can be on her, especially when that's the opposite of what she wanted out of college to begin with.

Then there's also the fact I've had a crush on Margaret since before she went abroad – and I've been waiting for a semester and a summer until she came back. Of course, while to not the same degree as Michelle and for different reasons, I have a suspicion that Margaret and I aren't quite a perfect fit either. But I know too well what fruits come from constant hesitation. Besides, not like anyone else at Williams has caused me to linger for so long.

But, the overall block that makes any other consideration superfluous is that I'm pretty certain that, even if I asked Michelle out, she'd say no.

And, while I don't really have anything to give evidence that Michelle would do this (and, hence, will not bother to contemplate if such is the case), this whole conversation highlights in my mind a trend I've been noticing with just about anyone I've had an interest in or who has thrown a bit of interest towards me since Laura.

It goes along the line of, "You're a really nice guy and very sweet, etc. but…"

not good enough.

There is something which just holds the person back, makes them willing to pass over me. Now, I know I'm not usually in the habit of building myself up, unless it's clearly joking hyperbole. Excluding a few particular traits, I'm usually willing to find fault. That said…I'm not that bad of a guy.

I'm nice and you basically have every guarantee I'm not going to cheat or deliberately hurt you; any person who's known me since Sophomore year of high school knows that one. I've worked for it; I've been very loud and public about the need to make sure others are alright – there's a reason that's how most of my friends describe me, there's a reason people I've met tend to wind up confiding in me more or coming for advice.

I'm patient; I'm understanding. I'm compassionate. Apparently there's a decent contingent of people who even find me funny.

And, no, even I wouldn't call myself the best catch out there. If you want confidence, probably not best to make me your first choice. I'm eternally awkward in oh so many ways. And, sure, you have to put up with my many high principles; I've got my fair share of what people might call odd habits. I don't fit mainstream appeal, sure.

But if you're asking me to shave, or "do something" with my beard, I have to wonder if you're even acknowledging me.

I've always been very loud about my feelings toward physical appearance. I've written on the subject here God knows how many times. I'll run your ear on the subject if you let me. I actively am particular with my language on account of it and am quick to explain it if you ask me a question along its lines. It's kinda my hallmark crusade, other than Queer rights. It's what I've come to be known for, for some people.

So I cannot understand people who continually ask me if I'm going to shave it, or ask over and over it again why it's a big deal. It's like asking a religious person, "Oh, I know this means a lot to you but could you please urinate on your holy text, for me?" This is one of the central tenets of my ideals. Like, it's very fundamental reason for existence is based on how I feel you should treat others – you remove or violate this and you basically stab everything I hold dear. There's no reason for me to give a damn about anyone else. I mean, I usually like to think there is no one out there as bad as my mother but you operate with the fundamental stupidity she seems to possess when you do this. Because she asks if I'm willing to shave, I explain the whole point of it all, then she asks, "Well, how about we just trim it? See, it won't be that much." And then I explain it again, and we repeat this process indefinitely.

How little it is isn't the point.

And her complete inability to use basic logic to take my explanation and understand why I refuse demonstrates her limited intelligence – people give a complete damn about their appearance, everyone. It can't even enter her head otherwise. And, the mainstream and majority of people she meets do as well. So it must be true. Therefore, it doesn't matter what I say. In her mind, the reason I refuse is because of how much hair I'm cutting. Because, from her mindset, this is the only piece that fits.

And that is the brain-dead intelligence you wield when you ask me the same question.

But more importantly, I can't remember if I've discussed point of view on here much. People's inability to see things from other people's point of view is one of my biggest complaints. It would resolve a lot of misunderstandings and hurt feelings, for one. But, two, it doesn't seem like such a difficult ability to me; yet it seems to be.

But I'm fascinated by other's point of view. My obsession with the human personality (and, thus, a person's life experiences) fascinate me. I'm willing to try to understand where someone is coming from. I might not agree with them in the end. But I'm interested. Notice that I've described here a willingness to date a person if they also show interest (admittedly, as Dodi once said, someone liking me can often go a long way in having me like them). I might be hesitant to try it otherwise, but I'd certainly be willing to try it out if they're interested in me.

I'm willing to give it a chance.

It just seems to be that no one is really interested in even bothering to consider what I hold dear and what I find to be amazing. I mean, sure, if it was something like archaeology and no one else found it interesting (not that no one would date me because I like it, because that'd just be stupid of people), I would say, "Fine, fair." And this is not me asking rando number 3 off the street, either. This is, for one example, Monica, someone I've known for years now, someone (of all people) who should know my politics by now. Yet the very most fundamental aspect of me, the one to which – I would argue – you have to understand in order to understand me, comes with an "Well, if…" criteria.

Once again, as if no one quite gives a damn; as if my very principles (and cares) are negotiable and excusable as far as the world is concerned.

I just feel alone.

 

 

J: If I were a fermata, would you hold me? 

    Btw, I'm sensitive and you have a habit for teasing, it seems. Do you think that could feasibly be a problem??

M: With a beard like that, NOTHING is a problem. But I'm going to have to call you ducky. Do you like purple drink?

J: Haha, well, I think ducky is a small concession in comparison to that *last* question. But you're too tempting for me to resist, my belle Juive.

M: There is no way you could handel me, ever. But nice try. I am faster better stronger smarter prettier and I win more. You will never beat me. NEVER, I SAY!

J: Who said anything about beating you?! That's completely a fabricated stereotype about black males in relationships, you must know that!

    However, it seems you're issuing me a challenge. And I can be quite stubborn on principle.

M: You know what, Jawn? Suck. My. Cock.

    While you're at it, order me a pizza and tell me I'm pretty.

J: Oooh, I love it when you talk dirty.

    And have I ever told you how you always just seem to glow? Your graciousness and joyous nature inspires everyone in the room. It's no wonder they hang on your every word. Aphrodite herself would blush deeply red in jealousy of the way your eyes catch the light, or the coaxing passion of your smile. You are radiant, m'dear.

M: Why thank you, vagina face. I love you, too. YOU NEED TO HANG OUT WITH US BEFORE YOU GO BACK TO SCHOOL, YOU ASSHAT D:<

    I miss being mean to you ):

 

 

Worked a booth at the county fair today. I know I've said it before, but I feel the need to say it again – public displays of religiosity completely unnerve me.

I could tell you about the Catholic booth, in which one of those staffing the booth told me as I was leaving, "Stay righteous and stay Catholic; we wanna be sure to get you into Heaven." I could also tell you about how overly un-confrontational that I am, seeing as all I could muster was smiling and walking away instead of bothering to point how overly offensive and pretentious such a statement is (though no Christian would dare admit such a statement could be that) or quote our shared catechism (337 LG 16; cf. DS 3866-3872: "Those also can attain to salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the Gospel of Christ or His Church, yet sincerely seek God and moved by grace strive by their deeds to do His will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does Divine Providence deny the helps necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God and with His grace strive to live a good life.").

Or I could tell you how, as I stopped by the Gideons booth (you know, those guys who feel the need to shove Jesus down your throat even on your vacation so they fill every hotel with a bible), I was led on (after listing a desire for a portable New Testament, being a Catholic, and following the commandments as laid out by the Bible) to say that I had accepted Christ as my personal lord and savior before the guy would give me one of the pocket New Testaments. I guess they believe you have to convert before being able to grace your eyes upon the sacred words of Christ and Paul…? Great proselytizing plan, guys; but I despise proselytizing in nearly all forms so keep up having everyone of sane minds thinking you're obnoxious.

 

Instead, however, I'm going to watch my feel-good movie tonight, perhaps with a bowl of ice cream, while our dog sleeps next to me. If you guys haven't seen it yet, I highly suggest to watch it. It's called Show Me Love or Fucking Åmål in the original Swedish (it's a foreign film; Åmål is a small Swedish town). Links to watch the movie online are here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spGW5p9p1c4.