Even though I've left organized religion behind me, where it's almost too distant to see in the rearview mirror, I still find an "intelligence" pervading life. One place this can be seen is where things work out in a way that you never would remotely come up with, and where things are just so ironic that you can't help but laugh at immensity of it. There is a brilliance to irony. Irony is poetic. It's something that's so freeing when it's realized. Whatever story you're spinning in, whatever you're caught up in your head with, when you realize the irony of your situation it's an immediate exit to that beautiful place of self reflection and acceptance. You can appreciate life in those moments.
I was fortunate enough to recently experience this kind of irony. I had the privilege of staying with Catholic priests at the Montfort missionary house in Litchfield, Connecticut. It's a beautiful house and property that was used as a seminary. And now it's the residence of the missionary priests and also serves as a retreat center. On the grounds are a chapel, the "Shrine of Lourdes" (a replica of the Grotto Lourdes in France), and a "Stations of the Cross" trail, which takes visitors on a journey through the stages of Christ's crucifixion. You can learn more about the Lourdes in Litchfield here.
Before this, my experiences with Catholicism were virtually zero. I have met and worked with ex-Catholics and I knew some stuff about the Catholic faith from general research and curiosity, but I had never spoken to a priest or attended mass. While traveling to stay at the house, I already found the whole thing amusing. I was definitely looking forward to the experience and my curiosity was piqued. I was anticipating whether or not this experience would trigger me and I was very curious to see how I may react. Anyone who has left fundamentalism can understand this, I'm sure. A lot of people in religious trauma support groups talk about getting triggered by things like prayer, driving past churches, seeing bibles in hotel rooms, etc. I knew I was in a really good place in my recovery process so I wasn't worried about little things triggering me, but I've never sat down with a Catholic priest who has taken vows and dedicated his life to his faith. Maybe he knows something I don't. Would this experience send me through yet another transition in world view and faith? I doubted it, but I've been on that rollercoaster a couple times so I couldn't help but entertain the thought.
On the second day of our visit, one of the priests accompanied me and the people I was with on the "stages of the cross" walking trail. It was a loop trail a mile or less in length. There were plaques and statues along the way depicting the stages of Christ's crucifixion with the final stage being a very large and impressive Calvary scene. I actually found the whole experience to be very beautiful and reflective. Being raised as a Jehovah's Witness I never was taught to put much emphasis on the cross or on Jesus' death. I was taught that Jesus did die for our sins but it wasn't really the same as how the Catholics view it, and of course the JWs don't use the cross as a symbol of worship. Reflecting on the sheer intensity that these images have had on such a large population in human history is almost overwhelming. The story of Jesus's crucifixion has been foundational to our society and the image of the cross has been carried into battle, used as a means of justification for wars and atrocities, but also as a personal symbol of hope, sacrifice, protection, and love for so many. It truly is an incredible symbol in the human saga, of which I'm not sure anyone can fully comprehend the magnitude it has had on our collective experience.
Once we finished the walking trail I decided to make a quick trip into town to pick up some lattes before joining my friends back at the missionary house for lunch. I located a coffee shop and pulled into the parking lot. As soon as I got out of my car, a man started yelling and waving while walking briskly at me. Startled, I stopped, not sure what was going on, and then I realized I had parked in front of a Jewish synagogue (adjacent to the coffee shop) and the man trying to get my attention was a rabbi. He walked up to me and asked if I'd like to do a "Mitzvah" today.
"A what?" I asked.
He laughed and explained, "A Mitzvah! It means a good deed!"
"Well of course!" I replied happy and amused.
He then went on to explain that it's against his tradition for him to turn off lights on Shabbat. It was a Saturday. Apparently, his normal gentile volunteer didn't show up that day to assist so he was waiting for someone to turn off the lights before closing up. He took me around the synagogue and had me turn off all of the lights. We started chit chatting and he thanked me and asked me where I was from and what I do. I laughed and explained that I'm a religion recovery coach and I work with people who are recovering from religious trauma. It was clearly a new concept to him. He was very interested and curious and we had a very polite and genuine conversation around the good and the bad of fundamentalist religion. We were able to find lots of common ground and I appreciated his insights into Judaism. He gifted me a coffee flavored kosher candy, a Jewish newspaper, and asked God to bless me for my mitzvah.
The next day I attended my first Catholic mass. The irony of being a religion recovery coach staying at a Catholic missionary house, walking the stages of the cross, turning off the lights in a Jewish synagogue, and then attending my first mass wasn't enough. To add to all of that, the priest began his sermon by unwrapping a large cardboard sign that said "The end is near!" He then went around pumping the sign up and down just like you'd expect any eccentric doomsday proclaimer to do. I was immediately laughing. I found it very funny that my first Catholic mass, which was also the first time I have sat in any form of a church service in several years, was all about the end of the world. Of course, the priest was doing this as a joke and he wasn't serious about the world ending. But his sermon went on to talk about current events and whether or not they are a sign of the "end times." The irony here is that the religion I was raised in, the Jehovah's Witnesses, is essentially a doomsday cult. Their entire message is that we are living in the end of the world. I've had the idea that we are living in "the last seconds of the last day" drilled into my head over and over since I was a child, and this has been one of the biggest things I've had to deconstruct in my process. I certainly would never have expected my first experience back in church, at my first Catholic mass, to be so reminiscent to the religion I was raised in. The irony is fantastic.
I really enjoyed the service. The priest was clearly a gifted speaker and he was having a lot of fun, which flowed into the congregation and created a beautiful space for heartfelt singing and worship. I left feeling happy and grateful that I was able to have that experience. On the drive home I was filled with laughter and amusement as I looked back on the couple of days I just had. It was a great experience that allowed me to look at myself and see that I have come a long way in my recovery process. I'm able to enter into other worlds of belief and ritual and enjoy them for their good, without having to feel the need to challenge them or to prove my beliefs are better or more true. I've come to realize that beliefs, religious or otherwise, are ultimately subjective in terms of the value they bring to our lives. Does your belief bring you happiness, fulfillment, peace? Does it enhance your life? If yes then that's a good thing to believe in. If no, let's look at it. I'm more than happy to have that conversation with you.
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