I was brought up as a Catholic. I grew up going to Mass every Friday, Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation; I mastered the art of whittling little crosses from dried palm leaves; I had guardian angels and a patron saint for every endeavor and malady under the sun; and for years I suffered through frozen fish stick dinners during Lent.
As a member of the One True Church, I quickly learned All The Indispensable Life Lessons Guaranteed to Get Good People Into Heaven. Vital lessons such as: All non-Catholics are doomed to eternal agony in pits of sulfurous hellfire, and unbaptized babies, non-practicing Catholics and Catholics who die in a state of sin spend eons suspended in purgatory until the prayers of The Faithful set their souls free.
My 8th-grade religion book even came equipped with an easy-to-follow pyramidal diagram that illustrated who was getting into Heaven first. Catholics were at the top (obvi.), then came non-practicing Catholics, Protestants, Good People (who assuming they had had the opportunity to would've chosen Catholicism), and lastly, the People of the Book. People who refused The Word and "Bad People" in general got to hang around outside the pyramid-and presumably outside of Heaven-for all of eternity.
We internalized these Holy Truths as early as elementary school where The Three R's stood for: Reading, (w)Riting and Rapture.
Accordingly, we would open each new day of school with the Pledge of Allegiance and a Hail Mary. Then, between science and lunch, our pre-Vatican II religion teacher began class by praying for the health of the Pope, the good works of our Bishop, the reunification of the Catholic Church and-I swear to God-"the conversion of the Jews."
Given, this was a school where on a free-dress-day, my teachers made a 10-year-old-boy turn a Looney Tunes T-shirt inside out because it said "Tazmanian Devil" on the front-a real life animal that is, might I add, supposed to be one of God's blessed creatures. Who besides Catholic school teachers would dare do something so downright mortifying, socially damaging and emotionally crippling? That kid was like a leprous anti-Christ for years thereafter.
My own "You're a bad Catholic" slap-in-the face came in second grade when I accidentally ate a bologna sandwich on a Friday during Lent. The Good Catholic Kids were so cruel.
And now it's Lent again. I can tell by the abundance of supermarket Easter egg dyes, the self-denying pledges of Lenten sacrifices/charitable atonements and Wednesday's forehead ashes.
But free of the heavy hand of Catholic education, I did not go to Church on Wednesday. I will not go on Good Friday. And this year, I'm not giving anything up for Lent. Especially not after last year when I willingly gave up soda and then wound up having to put my dog to sleep on Good Friday. (Thanks a lot, Jesus.)
Like many people raised with religion, I eventually found the sillier rules and rituals irrelevant. The Indispensable Life Lessons I had learned stopped resonating with me long ago, and when it came to religion, I was pretty disappointed.
This is not to say that I am looking for a new religion, because in truth, I am more comfortable feeling unsettled by my faith than feeling complacent with it.
But in the few years since I escaped religious education, I have had a chance to see a bit more of the world and meet a few more of the interesting people that live in it. I have finally been granted the freedom to feel my own way through life instead of having it spoon fed to me one religion class at a time. Time away from organized religion has led me to feel out my own understanding people, life, myself and everything that lies between and beyond.
For example I now attend other, more ecumenical services. Believers in Big Beers meets religiously at Satisfaction's on Thursdays. Our communion wine is beer, and all are welcome. We are just as heavy-handed with the booze as the Catholics-and more inclusive to boot. Plus we have Karaoke on Saturday nights.
In all fairness, I have no doubt that the Catholics had nothing but good intentions for my formative scholastic and spiritual education. But that's the thing about good intentions-the road to Hell is paved smooth with the best of them.
Boston Cote is a Trinity senior. Her column runs every Friday.
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