This may be one of the more timely and important things you've written. I enjoy everything you write. But this needed to said. And you said it beautifully. This should be talked about more widely. Thank you for starting the conversation.
I guess I did what you're suggesting. There was more fighting and arguing going on about going to church than actual time spent there. After many months of this I realized if I kept insisting and demanding and fighting my kids there was a very real chance all they would remember about God would be the fighting. And my zealot like behavior. The previous 10 years of instruction wouldn't matter. They wouldn't remember all the important stuff, the big stuff, the philosophy, because the fighting, consequences, the arguing, the anger, was now overshadowing it all.
So I stopped. I stopped taking them. I stopped even mentioning the church. Stopped it all. And I walked away. The gamble was that when they were old enough to decide for themselves they would remember enough of the good stuff to gravitate back to God on their own. It was a huge risk. You have to play the long game. I got lucky. It worked. So far. The oldest who was 16 when we stopped going bc she was at the center of all the arguing and vitriol is now 21 and when she's troubled she grabs that rosary. She was the one who came up to me and mentioned that a holy day of obligation was the next day and we should plan to go the first time we went back. So, Your right. It can work. But I'll be honest, I felt insane doing it. I told no one why I was doing it. It sounded ridiculous. But I couldn't deny my reasoning was sound and the pay off, if it worked was worth it, and that I was fairly certain if I kept on the path we were going down I was virtually guaranteeing they'd never have a relationship with God ever again. I felt I had to try. One down. Two to go
Steve, you so often state what is in my heart but in ways I can never express as well as you. I know the damage I did to my kids who thankfully are still in their early twenties and we have cried together and I sincerely apologized to each of them not listening…for trying to make them be holy … and why? To please my family. Two of my three daughters engaged in quite a bit of self harm in their teens, and while I did try to love them through it, I went about all wrong. I always harped on prayer, essentially solidifying in their minds that they just weren’t being good enough and hence, more pain was heaped on them. I regret that I wasn’t more courageous, brave enough to follow my heart back then to say to hell with holiness and really listen and be there for them to help them work through their pain. Pain I had also caused through divorce. None of them went to church the minute they left home. For a while I thought it hurt me. That I hadn’t been a good enough example to them, but now that I have gone through years of soul searching and study and come to my senses and left the church and religion all together, we are all navigating life together. Closer than ever. And I would not have it any other way. They are my NOW, my purpose. I can only hope that the mistakes I made will be rectified. I feel like they are starting to be. Rituals and apostolates are never a substitute for pure and honest love and care and concern. If there is a God, I hope he recognizes that I am finally now trying to truly love and so are they. Thank you for being such a great writer and allowing me a forum to say the things that are in my heart.
Thank you for sharing this. I wish I knew the right way. I think it's better for kids to have the morality that comes with religion, and the aspiration to virtue, but there's a ton of baggage that comes with it, too, and when they're forced to go every Sunday to something they don't like and don't believe in, it builds resentment, and that can turn into antipathy.
I found out after we stopped going that my older boys already didn't believe anymore, they just went because we made them. And thinking back, there was nothing really compelling about it that would make them believe. It was worse for us because we went to a TLM at a parish that was way too small, and for the last few years we usually wound up stuck with a bunch of other large families watching the Mass on television in the parish hall. It was a surreal and disconnected experience.
I keep encouraging them to think about and wrestle with belief because of how much it matters, but I want it to be an exploration and discussion more than, "We do this because if we don't we're all going to be set on fire forever."
I would have never approach religion in a strict way if the threatened penalties for not checking the boxes weren't so severe. I would have looked at it as something inspiring and mysterious that we would have explored together and discussed to figure out what seems true.
I believe, though, that morality and virtue can be taught through studying Jesus and also through the study of philosophy… without all the baggage that comes from institutionalized religion. We went to the TLM for a while and to be honest, there was so little talk of Jesus, that I felt like it was more and offshoot of Judaism, or to be more specific a continuation of the Pharisees. Such an emphasis on the law. Not much emphasis on love and compassion and loving my neighbor. Raising children is a complicated endeavor, but I certainly think now that there are better routes in navigating that endeavor. I can’t beat myself up for the past. I just want to approach the future in a more real, and honest way, and yes, without the threat of eternal damnation. My children are truly good at their core, and for that, I am very thankful.
Lana, you are spot on with the observation of the continuance of the Pharisees in the TLM. It shouldn't be this way. My experience has been a mixed bag. Some of my priests have been a little too much on rules/law; others have been better about focusing on the love of God and love of neighbor. The influence of judgement and damnation have scarred me. I don't want to pass that on to my children. What is the correct path? Hard to say. Your approach seems good. I pray that it will bear much fruit.
Steve, thank you for sharing this. You gave an insight into your painful experiences with these topics in a way that resonates, and I’ve been musing on it for hours. More people need to hear this, and understand.
I believe we often forget that the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.
People are meant to be valued for themselves, but instead they are often treated merely as vehicles for right belief and right behavior. Obey. Comply. Avoid punishment. It doesn’t matter if you’re screaming inside. The rules ands rituals are what matter in certain minds, and you almost get the impression that they believe we were created for their sake, rather than them being created for ours.
It’s particularly heartbreaking when this comes at the hands of those nearest to us, whose validation and unconditional love we need the most. There really is no wound as searing as the feeling of being unloved. And there’s no wound we inflict on one another as casually, or with such smug self-satisfaction.
Thank you for your courage in sharing this. You are a gifted writer, and I will genuinely be praying that you find healing and peace from the splinters that have been lodged in your soul (yes, I read that post too 🙂).
What you say is sadly all too true. I've seen many instances of making an idol of religion among my friends and fellow parishioners. I've been guilty of it myself. Looking at the negative influences on my own life, I am now more attentive to the dangers of the temptation to idolatry and how it can impact my family. I hope I am doing the right things. Time will tell.
I've noticed there are large numbers of people deconstructing, and ultimately de-converting from across all denominations of Christianity. Their stories are all fascinating, and yet, they all seem eerily similar. So many people are raised in environments where they are forced or pressured to believe in things that just don't make sense. I watch the Harmonic Atheist YouTube channel, where the Host Tim Mills interviews various people from different churches, and allows them to tell their story and how gut wrenching loss of faith is. As a guy who struggles with faith mightily, I think I honestly resonate with non-believers better than with people who "are on fire for Jesus." If the God you believe in is silent and hidden, it's very hard to love Him. And frankly, it can be annoying when you're around people who claim they get messages from God, while your prayers vanish into the ceiling .
If there is no God, then why practice religion? Steve, you wrote "since God is perceptually absent/distant/nonexistent..." right there, haven't you assumed God away? Then what am I to make of Jesus Christ, St. Paul, St. Augustine, Padre Pio, Therese of Liseaux, Teresa of Avila, Mother Angelica, Mother Teresa, Maximillian Kolbe, John of the Cross, Faustina, Our Lady of Fatima, Our Lady of Lourdes. I myself had a conversion experience in a RCC confessional that was (took a long time to figure this out) the Baptism in the HS. I was shocked and am still shocked. Who am I that Our Lord should come to me? What was it like? Words fail, 5 to 7 seconds of absolute rapturous ecstasy 32 years ago, the priest was charismatic , turned my life completely around, but not in the snap of a finger. "(I) (still) had to work out my faith with fear and trembling, because it is God working it out in (me)." And He isn't done with me yet. (I am 70.)
Now this is a completely different topic from how hard to "enforce" and "impose" religion on the kids. I would say start only inviting them once they reach about age 18. Before that, I would say compulsory mass attendance. Why? Because the devil wants your kids, just like he wants the rest of us. If they don't get God, they may get fentanyl or internet porn or alcoholism. But I would make it clear re church attendance, family prayer: "I love you no matter what. I am here to give you 'roots' and 'wings'. Jesus said 'suffer the little children to come unto me."
Ask yourself "is Jesus Christ Who He said He was?" I found out: yes. And why did God come to me? It was situationally appropriate, but still, He did it in His infinite love and mercy, and that incredible kindness He showed me in my moment of utter desperation is something I will never forget. I cannot begin to repay Our Lord, but I mean you try in whatever time I have left. It was absolutely a moment of life and death, for me. "Like a break in the battle was Your part, in the desperate life of a lonely heart." (Lyrics from "Back on the Chain Gang," the Pretenders.) Jesus Christ literally saved my life. The saints played their part.
"An evil age asks for a sign." Take Pascal's wager: what have you got to lose? Nothing to lose, everything to gain. Were Faustina, Mother Cabrini, Mother Seton, Caryll Houselander, Elizabeth Liseur all deluded hallucinators? Set a good example for the wife and children, even if you only invite them to join you. I am going to pray to Our Lord for your re-conversion. My sense is "He wants you back. Get back to where you once belonged! " (Paul McCartney AND St. Paul.)
Pascal's Wager is detestable. It's not just the weakest reason to exercise faith, it's the most inauthentic, disingenuous, dishonest reason to do so. It's nothing but hedging a bet against servile fear. It certainly has nothing to do with devotion or love.
What do I have to lose? Autonomy. Self-respect. Integrity. Honesty.
I refuse to profess a faith I do not believe. That would be a lie of the worst kind.
And I wouldn't bring visionaries into this, unless you want to include all of those who receive affirming visions or near death experiences that you would consider false.
Steve, for whatever reasons, you've been severely hurt by the religion and are rejecting God. (I've read your recounts of your history with the Church and your native family, so I get it.) I feel sad for you, sad for your family, but I've said all I can to try to persuade you that you are making a mistake. I trust God completely, I entrust you to His mercy and love.
How can I reject a God who has never been there for me?
How can I love a God who refuses to speak to me, even in the most quiet moments when I seek him?
How can I worship a God who has allowed his alleged Church to be run into the ground by the most corrupt and perverse of men? Who does nothing to preserve the faithful from error and scandal and abuse and the destruction of whatever meager means they have to practice their faith?
How can I believe in a God who won't give me faith, even when I beg?
How can I accept stories about this God who is supposedly all-good and infinitely loving but nevertheless tells us that "few are saved" and most are damned to eternal conscious torment -- a fate entirely irreconcilable with love and goodness?
I'm not rejecting God. God has rejected every means of showing me that I should believe in him. He has all the power, if he's real, and I have none. Why is it on me to do all the work to make any of this make sense?
Okay, Steve, I have a huge advantage on you (I am going into detail here). When I was 38 years old (I'm 70 now, married with kids--have all the usual problems married people have, but I am very grateful to my husband, who is human like me), I went to confession. I was severely depressed, like wanted death. (Why? Midlife crisis, I'm leaving out some awful details--midlife crisis is mainly one finds out one is average. I didn't like being average, but that wasn't my only problem). I got in the confessional and found I could not speak. This came as a huge shock to me, because I used to speak professionally for a living as a professor (I'm now retired) and had NEVER been at a loss for words in my life. I could think what I wanted to say, but my vocal chords would not work. This did not hurt. So I thought, okay, I'll leave, but I found all I could do is look backwards at the door, and I could not budge to save my life. Now I was starting to sweat emotional bullets, because the priest knows I'm there. I leaned in in a state of despair and accidentally touched the priest's head through the screen; he was leaning in and I am pretty sure he was praying for me, because his head felt like a magnet. I could barely pull my head free from his. And he said "oh, take your time." You cannot imagine my consternation. Okay, about 5 second or 7 seconds have elapsed.
Then this wind starts blowing in the confessional and the wood starts creaking and I think "Oh, the confessoinal is going to explode." It was a tremendous change in the barometric pressure and I was being lifted UP. If Our Lord has kept this wind up I would have levitated. Right before the wind started, I heard in my head (no doubt, my angel), in my own voice --you know that voice in your head when you're talking to yourself in your head , the voice said "It's God." I thought "It's God?" Then the wind starts. Absolute rapturous ecstacy, beyond words, and I wanted to go with that wind, let me tell you. It was like spiritual honey being poured out on me, ran right through me. How long did this take? I'd say 5-7 seconds. Enough to register. Then I said my confession and left. I realized later "this happens to the priest all the time." He knew I felt what was going on, because I think the priest was shocked himself--I don't think he'd ever had this happen with a penitent--and he probably looked through the screen, because later he figured out who I was, and I was looking up, trying to figure out who turned on the big fan. So all that took 5-7 seconds. 5-7 seconds, could not move, could not speak, 5-7 wind, brief confession, went to mass afterwards (it was SAturday vigil, January 18th, 1992, around 4:20 pm. or so).
Now, I was shocked, I'm still shocked. Why me? I was not deserving, I was pretty heavily a sinner then, and it took me 6 months to even figure out what had happened to me. (I reread all the gospels and then came upon the words of Jesus to Nicodemus that a man must be born again or cannot enter the kingdom. So I was baptised in the HS. And I will never ever forget it.
I'd like to tell you everything was swell after that, but I went through a very racuous time with God, running hot and cold on Him. I wanted Him and all my other "delights"--(sort of like Michael Voris) and God made it clear--can't have us both--you cannot have Me and your extracurricular delights. "You want to hold on to your possessions? Then forget about me" (Sting, song: "Set them free."). So God about a year after that (God is very patient, I still was running hot on cold on Him) made a very specific request of me (a habitual sin I was indulging in had to go): I said "no, that is not a reasonable request." Well, within 20 hours I was about in the emergency room. So I learned not to say no to a direct order.
So why did God save me (and say, not you?) God's choices are a mystery, but my sense I was going to die, and it was going to be very very soon, and I was going to die in the exact same way my Mother died, and God said "I'm not having it! I'm not having it!" Why? Some people were obviously praying for me--I know who some of them were (people already in Heaven, but also people on earth).
Steve, you cannot demand a sign. That is one thing you cannot do. Right before this happened, I'd say in the year lead up, God was slowly, slowly reeling me in, I realize now in hindsight. It was like that scene from "A River Runs through it" movie (very very beautiful movie). St. Paul was the fisherman, God the Father and son are sitting on the shore watching Paul catch me (St. Paul is an expert) and I gave St. Paul a run for his money, as the scene shows.
That's enough for now. You write me, I'll write you back. And now I'm a Carmelite--but guess what? I'm still a sinner, but the surface sinful habits have come off. It took a lot of work. I am not the same person. But I am not perfected, and I'm still working on my stuff.
I'm the big fish in this scene (just like you, you're a big fish, and St. Paul is going to catch you I hope, too--the bait was the HS). The fishing pole was like the charismatic priest ST. Paul grabbed from Heaven (and yes, the character's name in the movie is Paul, BTW.) As you can see, I gave ole St. Paul quite a fight (but now we're buddies). You get it. And how do you think I know all this? Am I a delusional hallicinator? No, God let me know--just "locutions of the soul." I am a type of contemplative--most Carmelites are. You might want to join us. Just jump on in, Steve, the water is fine.
This may be one of the more timely and important things you've written. I enjoy everything you write. But this needed to said. And you said it beautifully. This should be talked about more widely. Thank you for starting the conversation.
I agree. This needs to be discussed more widely.
Thank you!
I guess I did what you're suggesting. There was more fighting and arguing going on about going to church than actual time spent there. After many months of this I realized if I kept insisting and demanding and fighting my kids there was a very real chance all they would remember about God would be the fighting. And my zealot like behavior. The previous 10 years of instruction wouldn't matter. They wouldn't remember all the important stuff, the big stuff, the philosophy, because the fighting, consequences, the arguing, the anger, was now overshadowing it all.
So I stopped. I stopped taking them. I stopped even mentioning the church. Stopped it all. And I walked away. The gamble was that when they were old enough to decide for themselves they would remember enough of the good stuff to gravitate back to God on their own. It was a huge risk. You have to play the long game. I got lucky. It worked. So far. The oldest who was 16 when we stopped going bc she was at the center of all the arguing and vitriol is now 21 and when she's troubled she grabs that rosary. She was the one who came up to me and mentioned that a holy day of obligation was the next day and we should plan to go the first time we went back. So, Your right. It can work. But I'll be honest, I felt insane doing it. I told no one why I was doing it. It sounded ridiculous. But I couldn't deny my reasoning was sound and the pay off, if it worked was worth it, and that I was fairly certain if I kept on the path we were going down I was virtually guaranteeing they'd never have a relationship with God ever again. I felt I had to try. One down. Two to go
Steve, you so often state what is in my heart but in ways I can never express as well as you. I know the damage I did to my kids who thankfully are still in their early twenties and we have cried together and I sincerely apologized to each of them not listening…for trying to make them be holy … and why? To please my family. Two of my three daughters engaged in quite a bit of self harm in their teens, and while I did try to love them through it, I went about all wrong. I always harped on prayer, essentially solidifying in their minds that they just weren’t being good enough and hence, more pain was heaped on them. I regret that I wasn’t more courageous, brave enough to follow my heart back then to say to hell with holiness and really listen and be there for them to help them work through their pain. Pain I had also caused through divorce. None of them went to church the minute they left home. For a while I thought it hurt me. That I hadn’t been a good enough example to them, but now that I have gone through years of soul searching and study and come to my senses and left the church and religion all together, we are all navigating life together. Closer than ever. And I would not have it any other way. They are my NOW, my purpose. I can only hope that the mistakes I made will be rectified. I feel like they are starting to be. Rituals and apostolates are never a substitute for pure and honest love and care and concern. If there is a God, I hope he recognizes that I am finally now trying to truly love and so are they. Thank you for being such a great writer and allowing me a forum to say the things that are in my heart.
Thank you for sharing this. I wish I knew the right way. I think it's better for kids to have the morality that comes with religion, and the aspiration to virtue, but there's a ton of baggage that comes with it, too, and when they're forced to go every Sunday to something they don't like and don't believe in, it builds resentment, and that can turn into antipathy.
I found out after we stopped going that my older boys already didn't believe anymore, they just went because we made them. And thinking back, there was nothing really compelling about it that would make them believe. It was worse for us because we went to a TLM at a parish that was way too small, and for the last few years we usually wound up stuck with a bunch of other large families watching the Mass on television in the parish hall. It was a surreal and disconnected experience.
I keep encouraging them to think about and wrestle with belief because of how much it matters, but I want it to be an exploration and discussion more than, "We do this because if we don't we're all going to be set on fire forever."
I would have never approach religion in a strict way if the threatened penalties for not checking the boxes weren't so severe. I would have looked at it as something inspiring and mysterious that we would have explored together and discussed to figure out what seems true.
I believe, though, that morality and virtue can be taught through studying Jesus and also through the study of philosophy… without all the baggage that comes from institutionalized religion. We went to the TLM for a while and to be honest, there was so little talk of Jesus, that I felt like it was more and offshoot of Judaism, or to be more specific a continuation of the Pharisees. Such an emphasis on the law. Not much emphasis on love and compassion and loving my neighbor. Raising children is a complicated endeavor, but I certainly think now that there are better routes in navigating that endeavor. I can’t beat myself up for the past. I just want to approach the future in a more real, and honest way, and yes, without the threat of eternal damnation. My children are truly good at their core, and for that, I am very thankful.
Lana, you are spot on with the observation of the continuance of the Pharisees in the TLM. It shouldn't be this way. My experience has been a mixed bag. Some of my priests have been a little too much on rules/law; others have been better about focusing on the love of God and love of neighbor. The influence of judgement and damnation have scarred me. I don't want to pass that on to my children. What is the correct path? Hard to say. Your approach seems good. I pray that it will bear much fruit.
And thank you for responding!
Steve, thank you for sharing this. You gave an insight into your painful experiences with these topics in a way that resonates, and I’ve been musing on it for hours. More people need to hear this, and understand.
I believe we often forget that the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.
People are meant to be valued for themselves, but instead they are often treated merely as vehicles for right belief and right behavior. Obey. Comply. Avoid punishment. It doesn’t matter if you’re screaming inside. The rules ands rituals are what matter in certain minds, and you almost get the impression that they believe we were created for their sake, rather than them being created for ours.
It’s particularly heartbreaking when this comes at the hands of those nearest to us, whose validation and unconditional love we need the most. There really is no wound as searing as the feeling of being unloved. And there’s no wound we inflict on one another as casually, or with such smug self-satisfaction.
Thank you for your courage in sharing this. You are a gifted writer, and I will genuinely be praying that you find healing and peace from the splinters that have been lodged in your soul (yes, I read that post too 🙂).
Sincerely, your fellow pilgrim in this world.
P.S. that analogy from Ferris Bueller is spot on.
Thank you, Irene!
What you say is sadly all too true. I've seen many instances of making an idol of religion among my friends and fellow parishioners. I've been guilty of it myself. Looking at the negative influences on my own life, I am now more attentive to the dangers of the temptation to idolatry and how it can impact my family. I hope I am doing the right things. Time will tell.
I've noticed there are large numbers of people deconstructing, and ultimately de-converting from across all denominations of Christianity. Their stories are all fascinating, and yet, they all seem eerily similar. So many people are raised in environments where they are forced or pressured to believe in things that just don't make sense. I watch the Harmonic Atheist YouTube channel, where the Host Tim Mills interviews various people from different churches, and allows them to tell their story and how gut wrenching loss of faith is. As a guy who struggles with faith mightily, I think I honestly resonate with non-believers better than with people who "are on fire for Jesus." If the God you believe in is silent and hidden, it's very hard to love Him. And frankly, it can be annoying when you're around people who claim they get messages from God, while your prayers vanish into the ceiling .
I may have to check out that channel, sounds interesting.
Thanks for your comment.
If there is no God, then why practice religion? Steve, you wrote "since God is perceptually absent/distant/nonexistent..." right there, haven't you assumed God away? Then what am I to make of Jesus Christ, St. Paul, St. Augustine, Padre Pio, Therese of Liseaux, Teresa of Avila, Mother Angelica, Mother Teresa, Maximillian Kolbe, John of the Cross, Faustina, Our Lady of Fatima, Our Lady of Lourdes. I myself had a conversion experience in a RCC confessional that was (took a long time to figure this out) the Baptism in the HS. I was shocked and am still shocked. Who am I that Our Lord should come to me? What was it like? Words fail, 5 to 7 seconds of absolute rapturous ecstasy 32 years ago, the priest was charismatic , turned my life completely around, but not in the snap of a finger. "(I) (still) had to work out my faith with fear and trembling, because it is God working it out in (me)." And He isn't done with me yet. (I am 70.)
Now this is a completely different topic from how hard to "enforce" and "impose" religion on the kids. I would say start only inviting them once they reach about age 18. Before that, I would say compulsory mass attendance. Why? Because the devil wants your kids, just like he wants the rest of us. If they don't get God, they may get fentanyl or internet porn or alcoholism. But I would make it clear re church attendance, family prayer: "I love you no matter what. I am here to give you 'roots' and 'wings'. Jesus said 'suffer the little children to come unto me."
Ask yourself "is Jesus Christ Who He said He was?" I found out: yes. And why did God come to me? It was situationally appropriate, but still, He did it in His infinite love and mercy, and that incredible kindness He showed me in my moment of utter desperation is something I will never forget. I cannot begin to repay Our Lord, but I mean you try in whatever time I have left. It was absolutely a moment of life and death, for me. "Like a break in the battle was Your part, in the desperate life of a lonely heart." (Lyrics from "Back on the Chain Gang," the Pretenders.) Jesus Christ literally saved my life. The saints played their part.
https://youtu.be/j1VYRZF8bCs?si=JZ5MH9sAY2wBR9Wn
I don't practice religion.
And I haven't assumed anything, I've perceived.
I don't believe, Anne. I see no reason to believe.
I still ask him to show me if I'm wrong. Was doing that just yesterday. He never does.
"An evil age asks for a sign." Take Pascal's wager: what have you got to lose? Nothing to lose, everything to gain. Were Faustina, Mother Cabrini, Mother Seton, Caryll Houselander, Elizabeth Liseur all deluded hallucinators? Set a good example for the wife and children, even if you only invite them to join you. I am going to pray to Our Lord for your re-conversion. My sense is "He wants you back. Get back to where you once belonged! " (Paul McCartney AND St. Paul.)
Presto, you are saved! (by Rush):
https://youtu.be/5-tqtgQFcHc?si=XRc8AWl8YdE09gpX
Pascal's Wager is detestable. It's not just the weakest reason to exercise faith, it's the most inauthentic, disingenuous, dishonest reason to do so. It's nothing but hedging a bet against servile fear. It certainly has nothing to do with devotion or love.
What do I have to lose? Autonomy. Self-respect. Integrity. Honesty.
I refuse to profess a faith I do not believe. That would be a lie of the worst kind.
And I wouldn't bring visionaries into this, unless you want to include all of those who receive affirming visions or near death experiences that you would consider false.
Steve, for whatever reasons, you've been severely hurt by the religion and are rejecting God. (I've read your recounts of your history with the Church and your native family, so I get it.) I feel sad for you, sad for your family, but I've said all I can to try to persuade you that you are making a mistake. I trust God completely, I entrust you to His mercy and love.
How can I reject a God who has never been there for me?
How can I love a God who refuses to speak to me, even in the most quiet moments when I seek him?
How can I worship a God who has allowed his alleged Church to be run into the ground by the most corrupt and perverse of men? Who does nothing to preserve the faithful from error and scandal and abuse and the destruction of whatever meager means they have to practice their faith?
How can I believe in a God who won't give me faith, even when I beg?
How can I accept stories about this God who is supposedly all-good and infinitely loving but nevertheless tells us that "few are saved" and most are damned to eternal conscious torment -- a fate entirely irreconcilable with love and goodness?
I'm not rejecting God. God has rejected every means of showing me that I should believe in him. He has all the power, if he's real, and I have none. Why is it on me to do all the work to make any of this make sense?
Okay, Steve, I have a huge advantage on you (I am going into detail here). When I was 38 years old (I'm 70 now, married with kids--have all the usual problems married people have, but I am very grateful to my husband, who is human like me), I went to confession. I was severely depressed, like wanted death. (Why? Midlife crisis, I'm leaving out some awful details--midlife crisis is mainly one finds out one is average. I didn't like being average, but that wasn't my only problem). I got in the confessional and found I could not speak. This came as a huge shock to me, because I used to speak professionally for a living as a professor (I'm now retired) and had NEVER been at a loss for words in my life. I could think what I wanted to say, but my vocal chords would not work. This did not hurt. So I thought, okay, I'll leave, but I found all I could do is look backwards at the door, and I could not budge to save my life. Now I was starting to sweat emotional bullets, because the priest knows I'm there. I leaned in in a state of despair and accidentally touched the priest's head through the screen; he was leaning in and I am pretty sure he was praying for me, because his head felt like a magnet. I could barely pull my head free from his. And he said "oh, take your time." You cannot imagine my consternation. Okay, about 5 second or 7 seconds have elapsed.
Then this wind starts blowing in the confessional and the wood starts creaking and I think "Oh, the confessoinal is going to explode." It was a tremendous change in the barometric pressure and I was being lifted UP. If Our Lord has kept this wind up I would have levitated. Right before the wind started, I heard in my head (no doubt, my angel), in my own voice --you know that voice in your head when you're talking to yourself in your head , the voice said "It's God." I thought "It's God?" Then the wind starts. Absolute rapturous ecstacy, beyond words, and I wanted to go with that wind, let me tell you. It was like spiritual honey being poured out on me, ran right through me. How long did this take? I'd say 5-7 seconds. Enough to register. Then I said my confession and left. I realized later "this happens to the priest all the time." He knew I felt what was going on, because I think the priest was shocked himself--I don't think he'd ever had this happen with a penitent--and he probably looked through the screen, because later he figured out who I was, and I was looking up, trying to figure out who turned on the big fan. So all that took 5-7 seconds. 5-7 seconds, could not move, could not speak, 5-7 wind, brief confession, went to mass afterwards (it was SAturday vigil, January 18th, 1992, around 4:20 pm. or so).
Now, I was shocked, I'm still shocked. Why me? I was not deserving, I was pretty heavily a sinner then, and it took me 6 months to even figure out what had happened to me. (I reread all the gospels and then came upon the words of Jesus to Nicodemus that a man must be born again or cannot enter the kingdom. So I was baptised in the HS. And I will never ever forget it.
I'd like to tell you everything was swell after that, but I went through a very racuous time with God, running hot and cold on Him. I wanted Him and all my other "delights"--(sort of like Michael Voris) and God made it clear--can't have us both--you cannot have Me and your extracurricular delights. "You want to hold on to your possessions? Then forget about me" (Sting, song: "Set them free."). So God about a year after that (God is very patient, I still was running hot on cold on Him) made a very specific request of me (a habitual sin I was indulging in had to go): I said "no, that is not a reasonable request." Well, within 20 hours I was about in the emergency room. So I learned not to say no to a direct order.
So why did God save me (and say, not you?) God's choices are a mystery, but my sense I was going to die, and it was going to be very very soon, and I was going to die in the exact same way my Mother died, and God said "I'm not having it! I'm not having it!" Why? Some people were obviously praying for me--I know who some of them were (people already in Heaven, but also people on earth).
Steve, you cannot demand a sign. That is one thing you cannot do. Right before this happened, I'd say in the year lead up, God was slowly, slowly reeling me in, I realize now in hindsight. It was like that scene from "A River Runs through it" movie (very very beautiful movie). St. Paul was the fisherman, God the Father and son are sitting on the shore watching Paul catch me (St. Paul is an expert) and I gave St. Paul a run for his money, as the scene shows.
That's enough for now. You write me, I'll write you back. And now I'm a Carmelite--but guess what? I'm still a sinner, but the surface sinful habits have come off. It took a lot of work. I am not the same person. But I am not perfected, and I'm still working on my stuff.
I'm the big fish in this scene (just like you, you're a big fish, and St. Paul is going to catch you I hope, too--the bait was the HS). The fishing pole was like the charismatic priest ST. Paul grabbed from Heaven (and yes, the character's name in the movie is Paul, BTW.) As you can see, I gave ole St. Paul quite a fight (but now we're buddies). You get it. And how do you think I know all this? Am I a delusional hallicinator? No, God let me know--just "locutions of the soul." I am a type of contemplative--most Carmelites are. You might want to join us. Just jump on in, Steve, the water is fine.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bI8SviHawBo