Mother and I had an argument today.
See, my Mother comes from an extremely conservatively Catholic god-fearing culture where, from the age of 3 you’re taught that if you miss even one Sunday mass, you’re likely to be struck down by heavenly rage for all your mortal sins.
So when I reject the idea of attending mass, she gets horrifically appalled like I’ve just announced that I’m going to stab 10 fetuses through their pregnant mothers’ respective abdomens before sacrificing all 20 souls to Beelzebub, one of the 7 princes of Hell.
…I honestly kid you not.
Ever since I was little, she’s tried to stress to me the importance of mass, how God deserves one day out of the week, how we need to consistently praise him with every breath we take, and if good things happen it’s because God made it so and has nothing to do with your own abilities as a person. Now, I’ve talked about my faith before and I still maintain what I’ve said, that faith is a matter of mentality, a place in your mind that you can take solace in where you can reach out to the omnipotent being in the universe and ask them to hear your requests that amount to barely a whisper beneath the rabble and discord of the rest of humanity.
So I’m pretty lax when it comes to my spirituality and my faith, believing that they exist to keep me sane, rather than thinking that my religion exists to “save” me. There are so many reasons why that idea is ridiculous starting with, if God loves us all, then what happens to the people who never hear about him, let alone don’t worship him? Do they automatically go to hell because they never had the opportunity to praise God in all his glory?
Kinda hypocritical to the whole “Save humanity” motto of Christianity, no?
So I’m not a big fan of religion, let alone mass. Sometimes I manage to find a good preacher who actually talks about things that are relevant to life and morality and brotherhood. Those are great to listen to because they’re not only entertaining, but the message they pass on aren’t nearly as lofty or overbearing like every other Christmas special. Other times, the priest has an insanely thick accent who simply rambles on and on about something so mundane and nonsensical that, by the time I figure out wtf he’s talking about, the homily is over.
I tried explaining this to my mother (we go through this at least once a month) but she’s adamant about going to church, stressing that we have to do it because she fervently feels that bits and pieces of our souls are singed when we miss mass. So, we always end up in a stalemate, with me stressing that, while I do have faith and have the occasional conversation with God, I genuinely don’t believe mass and church and the politics they revolve around are conducive to my personal beliefs, so why on earth should I be forced to sit through them?
The answer’s simple: I shouldn’t have to.
Mother doesn’t seem to understand this idea even after I point out that I’m an adult and capable of developing thoughts outside the realm of the Bible. Her way of thinking revolves around the phrase “Because I say so,” completely bypassing the fact that she’s forcing her own mentality and beliefs on me. She thinks this is okay. And me suggesting or flat-out asserting otherwise constitutes me being the most ungrateful, un-filial child to be passed through her vagina.
It’s not like I’m putting down her own perspective; I only point out the things that I don’t agree with and it just so happens to go against several of her own. I just don’t think that because she funded my life for the past twenty-two years that the rest of my life should be spent thinking the same way she does when I know more and better than what she’s attempted to force on me.
And yes, I’m including “blasphemous” concepts like evolution and dinosaurs, both of which are scoffed at by the elder generation of my culture.
Personally, I think there’s a certain place when and where religion/faith can fit together with what our earth’s history tells us.
I just don’t think I’ll find it in the fifth center pew of 11:30 Sunday mass.
