Afraid to return to Mass

[pearl]

Now my local parish offers three weekend Masses. Now I am vaccinated. Now the mask mandates are being relaxed as the Covid-19 infection numbers and hospitalizations recede. We can gather. From my window, I can hear the bells tolling the start of each Mass. Every week I plan to go. Every Sunday I do not go. Why? I should be running back to in-person Mass so I can embrace the real presence of the Eucharist.


I’m afraid of once again confronting a superficial pro-life philosophy, one that is pro-pregnancy but against providing any assistance to those in need, even the bootstraps by which they are supposed to pull themselves up. I’m afraid of once again encountering members of the clergy and laity who parrot cruel political talking points while dismissing Pope Francis’ call to tenderness. Mostly, I’m afraid that some misguided homily is going to be the straw that breaks me, the last straw that finally makes me leave this church that I belong to, that I say I love. Even as I confess this weakness of faith, I recognize my fear that my little bird is not viable outside the nest. I do believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

My life changed when one of my children came out of the closet. As the parent of a transgender person, I felt called to advocate publicly for civil rights and equal treatment for the L.G.B.T. community, which meant that I had to leave my paid position at the parish. The sexual abuse scandal was also swirling around the Catholic Church at the time. My husband, a cradle Catholic, opted out and became an Episcopalian. The safe edifice of my Catholic family had crumbled.

Long story short: I fell from being a pillar of parish programs to sitting alone in a back pew. I think of my Catholicism now as a fragile little bird that I keep sheltered in the nest of my heart. I’m still here. Even as my trans child felt abandoned and reviled by the faith into which they were baptized, even as my husband was no longer at my side during Mass, I stayed. I was a Catholic, by God. I was not going to be driven out. Rather than throwing up my hands and surrendering, I held on by a fingernail. The personal criticism, the institutional blindness, the wear and tear of alienation, even the lurking guilt I had for not leaving the church to support my child would not win.

I’m afraid to return to Mass in person. And it’s not because of Covid. | America Magazine

 

[exchemist]

Now my local parish offers three weekend Masses. Now I am vaccinated. Now the mask mandates are being relaxed as the Covid-19 infection numbers and hospitalizations recede. We can gather. From my window, I can hear the bells tolling the start of each Mass. Every week I plan to go. Every Sunday I do not go. Why? I should be running back to in-person Mass so I can embrace the real presence of the Eucharist.


I’m afraid of once again confronting a superficial pro-life philosophy, one that is pro-pregnancy but against providing any assistance to those in need, even the bootstraps by which they are supposed to pull themselves up. I’m afraid of once again encountering members of the clergy and laity who parrot cruel political talking points while dismissing Pope Francis’ call to tenderness. Mostly, I’m afraid that some misguided homily is going to be the straw that breaks me, the last straw that finally makes me leave this church that I belong to, that I say I love. Even as I confess this weakness of faith, I recognize my fear that my little bird is not viable outside the nest. I do believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

My life changed when one of my children came out of the closet. As the parent of a transgender person, I felt called to advocate publicly for civil rights and equal treatment for the L.G.B.T. community, which meant that I had to leave my paid position at the parish. The sexual abuse scandal was also swirling around the Catholic Church at the time. My husband, a cradle Catholic, opted out and became an Episcopalian. The safe edifice of my Catholic family had crumbled.

Long story short: I fell from being a pillar of parish programs to sitting alone in a back pew. I think of my Catholicism now as a fragile little bird that I keep sheltered in the nest of my heart. I’m still here. Even as my trans child felt abandoned and reviled by the faith into which they were baptized, even as my husband was no longer at my side during Mass, I stayed. I was a Catholic, by God. I was not going to be driven out. Rather than throwing up my hands and surrendering, I held on by a fingernail. The personal criticism, the institutional blindness, the wear and tear of alienation, even the lurking guilt I had for not leaving the church to support my child would not win.

I’m afraid to return to Mass in person. And it’s not because of Covid. | America Magazine

This person needs to attend a different church, obviously. I do not recognise my own London Catholic parish at all in the sentiments and fears expressed here. Nobody who attends my local church could possibly think like this - unless they were in the grip of mental illness.

 

[metis]

Now my local parish offers three weekend Masses. Now I am vaccinated. Now the mask mandates are being relaxed as the Covid-19 infection numbers and hospitalizations recede. We can gather. From my window, I can hear the bells tolling the start of each Mass. Every week I plan to go. Every Sunday I do not go. Why? I should be running back to in-person Mass so I can embrace the real presence of the Eucharist.


I’m afraid of once again confronting a superficial pro-life philosophy, one that is pro-pregnancy but against providing any assistance to those in need, even the bootstraps by which they are supposed to pull themselves up. I’m afraid of once again encountering members of the clergy and laity who parrot cruel political talking points while dismissing Pope Francis’ call to tenderness. Mostly, I’m afraid that some misguided homily is going to be the straw that breaks me, the last straw that finally makes me leave this church that I belong to, that I say I love. Even as I confess this weakness of faith, I recognize my fear that my little bird is not viable outside the nest. I do believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

My life changed when one of my children came out of the closet. As the parent of a transgender person, I felt called to advocate publicly for civil rights and equal treatment for the L.G.B.T. community, which meant that I had to leave my paid position at the parish. The sexual abuse scandal was also swirling around the Catholic Church at the time. My husband, a cradle Catholic, opted out and became an Episcopalian. The safe edifice of my Catholic family had crumbled.

Long story short: I fell from being a pillar of parish programs to sitting alone in a back pew. I think of my Catholicism now as a fragile little bird that I keep sheltered in the nest of my heart. I’m still here. Even as my trans child felt abandoned and reviled by the faith into which they were baptized, even as my husband was no longer at my side during Mass, I stayed. I was a Catholic, by God. I was not going to be driven out. Rather than throwing up my hands and surrendering, I held on by a fingernail. The personal criticism, the institutional blindness, the wear and tear of alienation, even the lurking guilt I had for not leaving the church to support my child would not win.

I’m afraid to return to Mass in person. And it’s not because of Covid. | America Magazine

I hear ya, and such things have also gone through my mind. However, I've stayed, and let me briefly explain why.

First of all, the clergy of Church has both the right and the obligation to teach what they believe is correct. We also know that the Church has a near 2000 year history. We also know that we have the right of personal discernment.

Put all together, the Church is not at all likely to be up to date on making changes and for more than one reason as you're aware of. But change it has, and let me use as examples the acceptance of the basic ToE and most other scientific axioms.

PF is getting some criticism in his desire to be much more accepting of the LGBT community. Our former choir director is gay, and yet no asked him to be removed, and he served under three priests here. One of the priests in our diocese was gay, but obviously didn't talk about it.

Always remember: the Church is not the Gestapo. If we look for a perfect match, good luck because people who think can sometimes disagree.



ADDED: When I sought to rejoin the Church three years ago, I sat down with our priest and told I'm that I'd like to consider coming back to the sacraments but that I would always have questions because my orientation is science. However, I told him that I can commit to the Church and help out in ways that I can. He said I could resume them, and since he knew that I used to co-run our RCIA program there, he asked me to get back into it. I told him "one step at a time", but I did rejoin it the following year.

Good luck with your concern, but I'd hate to see us lose a person as nice and intelligent as you are.

 

[RestlessSoul]

It's the Roman *Catholic church, and no one can tell you you don't belong.


catholic
[ˈkaθ(ə)lɪk]
ADJECTIVE

1. including a wide variety of things; all-embracing.
   "her tastes are pretty catholic"
   synonyms:
   diverse · diversified · wide · broad · broad-based · eclectic ·
   [More]

 

[ChristineM]

Now my local parish offers three weekend Masses. Now I am vaccinated. Now the mask mandates are being relaxed as the Covid-19 infection numbers and hospitalizations recede. We can gather. From my window, I can hear the bells tolling the start of each Mass. Every week I plan to go. Every Sunday I do not go. Why? I should be running back to in-person Mass so I can embrace the real presence of the Eucharist.


I’m afraid of once again confronting a superficial pro-life philosophy, one that is pro-pregnancy but against providing any assistance to those in need, even the bootstraps by which they are supposed to pull themselves up. I’m afraid of once again encountering members of the clergy and laity who parrot cruel political talking points while dismissing Pope Francis’ call to tenderness. Mostly, I’m afraid that some misguided homily is going to be the straw that breaks me, the last straw that finally makes me leave this church that I belong to, that I say I love. Even as I confess this weakness of faith, I recognize my fear that my little bird is not viable outside the nest. I do believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

My life changed when one of my children came out of the closet. As the parent of a transgender person, I felt called to advocate publicly for civil rights and equal treatment for the L.G.B.T. community, which meant that I had to leave my paid position at the parish. The sexual abuse scandal was also swirling around the Catholic Church at the time. My husband, a cradle Catholic, opted out and became an Episcopalian. The safe edifice of my Catholic family had crumbled.

Long story short: I fell from being a pillar of parish programs to sitting alone in a back pew. I think of my Catholicism now as a fragile little bird that I keep sheltered in the nest of my heart. I’m still here. Even as my trans child felt abandoned and reviled by the faith into which they were baptized, even as my husband was no longer at my side during Mass, I stayed. I was a Catholic, by God. I was not going to be driven out. Rather than throwing up my hands and surrendering, I held on by a fingernail. The personal criticism, the institutional blindness, the wear and tear of alienation, even the lurking guilt I had for not leaving the church to support my child would not win.

I’m afraid to return to Mass in person. And it’s not because of Covid. | America Magazine

I am not religious really because what you describe seems to be to be all too common, unlike you, i couldn't stand it anymore.

You seem to want to stick with your religion but don't see eye to eye with your local church so my suggestion for what it's worth is look elsewhere.

 

[sun rise]

More and more people see that organized religion does not "walk the talk". For Christians, the two greatest commandments are clear and unambiguous - a call to love. My love for my wife is not conditioned on her always doing what I consider the right thing. It is unconditional (in spite of occasional grumpy lapses).

What I see in much of organized religion is superficiality, hypocrisy and often ignoring what scripture says is an unconditional commandment.

 

[pearl]

Always remember: the Church is not the Gestapo. If we look for a perfect match, good luck because people who think can sometimes disagree.

While this is true, for the majority of Catholics it is the bishop of the diocese who sets the tone. I offer an example from own diocese. There is a private Catholic school operated by the Jesuits. Among the flags that fly at the school are those of 'black lives matter' and 'gay pride'. Years ago one of our Catholic colleges invited a speaker for commencement ceremonies, Victoria Reggie Kennedy, the wife of Senator Edward Kennedy. If she was to speak the bishop would not attend, Kennedy backed out.

Unless one reaches out to the larger Church we experience church through the bishop. The experience through a loyal Vat II bishop is quite different.

Good luck with your concern, but I'd hate to see us lose a person as nice and intelligent as you are.

Guess I need to explain what I presumed was a given, that 1st person references apply to the author of the article, not me.

 

[Father Heathen]

This person needs to attend a different church, obviously. I do not recognise my own London Catholic parish at all in the sentiments and fears expressed here. Nobody who attends my local church could possibly think like this - unless they were in the grip of mental illness.

Christianity in America is antithetical toward the teachings and examples of Christ.

 

[sun rise]

Christianity in America is antithetical toward the teachings and examples of Christ.

That's true in the media. I know Christians who quietly walk the talk calling no attention to themselves as they minister to the "least"..

 

[Truthseeker]

That's true in the media. I know Christians who quietly walk the talk calling no attention to themselves as they minister to the "least"..

Yes, we can't be stereotypical about this.

 

[metis]

While this is true, for the majority of Catholics it is the bishop of the diocese who sets the tone.

I actually think it's more the priest at each of our local parishes, although the bishop has more correspondence with some of the "upper brass".

Guess I need to explain what I presumed was a given, that 1st person references apply to the author of the article, not me.

OK, so I'm not the sharpest tack in the drawer.