Some habits die hard. Others lie dormant for years, popping up when you’ve forgotten you once had then. I caught myself making the sign of the cross (“blessing myself”) when driving past the Catholic cemetary the other day. This “tick” was an unquestioned part of growing up in a Catholic household. It ranks up there with poking bits of palm from Passion Sunday mass in spots of the house, prayer cards stuck in random books, and the need to speed through the Lord’s Prayer as quickly as possible. As a child and teen, I was active in the church. But I stopped going regularly when university started demanding my time, and I never really found my way back.
As the Catholic church and the Vatican hit the news with increasing frequency, I’m questioning what role religion plays or should play in my life. I do think the notion of “love your neighbour as yourself” is the best philosophy to live by, and I think churches as organizations can do great things. I just wish that they would do more of those great things and less discriminating based on random interpretations of Bible scripture or how things gave always been done.