The roommate and I decided to go to church today. It seemed like a good idea–it will make the Mom happy, it’s a step towards better integrating into the community, and those hymns can be damn fun to sing along with.
Those were the general thoughts, as opposed to ones like–I need to save my soul, or, I hear Father Kirkpatrick is a real fox in his ornate robe.
Anyway, it’s a beautiful church, but I don’t think I’ll go back. Not for any one reason, but just because it didn’t feel right. I felt like I was pretending, like whatever spiritual fulfillment I’m looking for would not be reached within those walls.
The sermon was about an Air Force pilot that uses his talents to draw Jesus’ face out of exhaust smoke in the sky. I had a little difficulty understanding the priest, but it was something along those lines. So all I could think was, that’s great, but he better be doing it on his own time… But not great! Those Jesus faces are killing the planet, one greenhouse gaseous cheekbone, eyelid, nostril at a time.
Before mass ended an announcement was made by a young girl, probably in her mid-teens. She informed us that 45 million fetuses had been “murdered” since 1973 with Roe vs. Wade. And to send a message to “the new administration,” parishioners were urged to sign up for an upcoming trip to DC on a free shuttle bus to a pro-life march.
I want very much to march in DC, but not at a pro-life rally. A free shuttle bus to a protest comes along and of course it’s for a cause I disagree with. So much for a generous God. But you know, here’s the silver lining–there is a new administration on its way in. So scary zealous pilots (like John McCain) can keep scrawling their crap in the sky. But I have faith that decisions for the greater good will be scrawled where it counts.