Faith

Nobody said it would be easy.”

It sounded like a summation of all that they felt one beautiful starry night at the veranda of a friend’s house. They had been drinking lightly. It seemed almost a waste they planned to stay sober all night. They had between them just a few shots of local rum on ice. This small gathering of friends were inclined to just hang out on a Friday night talking. No barhopping or late-night dancing for them. Tonight they felt too old for that. They talked instead about faith and believing.

Inevitably, it would be about faith in God. But it might have been about faith in general. These were friends who had grown up in the wake of Darwin, the big bang theory, modernism, deconstruction, the fall of the Berlin Wall and 9/11. They were young or not yet born when an Irish-American Catholic became U.S. president. They doubt it would ever happen again even after the precedent of a black president. They splash in the stormy confusion of the RH bill controversy. They drag themselves to church on Sundays. For still, despite incessant exhortations for them to move out of their religion, if they do not believe the church’s position in this issue, they are Catholics, born and raised that way by mothers and fathers and grandparents.

They might have wished they were Buddhists. They might have gone vegetarian at one time, practiced transcendental meditation and yoga. They might have been “born again” not too long ago only to find themselves back to where they came from. Not your usual Catholics, maybe. Yet perhaps not stereotypical either. What does it mean to be Catholic anyway? Does it mean gay is sinful? Does it mean birthing and then raising up a large family? Does it mean leaving the poor in the hands of God? Does it mean turning the other way?

If they lived in Japan or some foreign land, perhaps their Catholicism would take on a different meaning, a different attitudinal texture. In a more enlightened country, they might have thought it quite ordinary to be a good Catholic and still be liberal. But they had been born, raised and then grew up to adulthood in a predominantly Catholic country where they were often at odds with the mainstream.  Theirs is a special Catholicism, idiosyncratic, unique, difficult.

They had seen good Catholics. They had also seen bad ones. This is their problem. They had seen all shades and sizes of Catholics. Not all of them put their religion in the best light.  They say to themselves: “When Catholics are good, they are very good. But when they’re bad, you wish you had a different religion.” But Christ set the tone for forgiveness. And so they tell themselves: “Nobody’s a perfect Catholic. Nobody believes perfectly. Those who openly declare they do must be suspected and for good reason.”

That is why they do not move to another religion just because some fanatical Catholics say they should. If the Catholic Church here said they would be excommunicated for disagreeing with the Church over the RH bill, it is possible this would only drive them to practice their Catholicism secretly. It is not impossible for a liberal Catholic to be strong in his or her faith. Faith, after all, is not something you can corral or put in a cage or even screen. And in any case, the Catholic Church is not the building. The body of the Church is not made of concrete and stone with a steel gate. The body of the Church is the Catholics themselves in all their polychromatic diversity. What will they do? Check your ID at the church door? The sacristan screams, “Hey, this one supports the RH bill.” Priest replies, “Then they can’t enter.” How do you do that?

And how can they be sure St. Peter will not do to them the same thing? “Lord, this one told his neighbors to get out of their faith when they did not agree with his position on the RH bill!” What will God say?

If one believes in the Savior’s forgiving goodness, He will most likely say, “Let them in anyway.” Nobody said it was going to be easy.