Classicism: A Statement

I intended to write my statement as a rephrasing of Thomas Paine's "The Crisis, Number 1" focusing on the oppressive nature of public schooling, but five minutes into the church service I attended last night, I knew I had to start over. I had a topic, one that I actually had a need to write about, and one that would be appropriate.

I am a member of St. Michael's Catholic Church. I have always attended a Catholic Church; I even went to parochial school from first through eighth grade. My parents have been involved in music or a service-related ministry at every parish we've belonged to. Going to church is just something I have always done. Although my siblings often complained loudly about how boring it was, I kept my mouth shut for most of my life. I didn't really care.

A few years ago, after moving to Olympia, I began questioning things, as it's natural for teenagers to do. I wanted to know where God was in my life, because they always speak of the importance of having a 'personal relationship with God.' I felt I had learned everything I needed to know about the Church-the meaning behind every ritual, the difference between Catholics and every other Christian church out there, which saint was the patron saint of whatever, and so on-so why didn't I feel this faith thing? Our parish is quite large, counting several hundred families in its registry. Personal attention is not something I'm likely to actively seek, especially from someone as busy as the parish priest is. Being involved in a catechism-oriented youth group hasn't helped either. I didn't know who could answer my questions, because I didn't know what to ask.

I have become increasingly disillusioned with organized religion in general over the past year. The questions I didn't know were answered by non-religious sources. Too many agnostic friends have infused me with too many secular beliefs, beliefs I've found myself digesting in a much more fulfilling way than those the Church taught. The introduction of a new youth program called Life Teen has only caused me to shake my head in dismay. I find the music repetitive and lacking anything vital to say; the 'lessons' are nothing new and aimed to crowd-please. "The Mass is focused on you," claimed fliers touting the new program. I thought God was supposed to be the central figure?

I spent Mass last night filling my face with terror and my mind with an uncontrollable urge to write everything down. My sister and I sat on the floor behind several rows of people seated in folding chairs, a perspective from that you couldn't see what was going on at the altar no matter if you sat or stood. Our only indication of what was happening was a loudspeaker, situated a few feet from me, which broadcast the priests' and speakers' voices to every corner of the room. I am a visual learner, so hearing only an insistent voice and a throng of people listening intently to it disorients and upsets me. Even the rituals that I usually find a quietly comfortable part of the service seemed loud and out of whack. I realized that it was possible I had been scheduled to be some sort of minister that week, but I hadn't bothered to check the list. I felt like such a hypocrite, and if there's one thing I want to avoid, it's being a hypocrite and a liar. Maybe I'm supposed to challenge my actions and myself, but church is the only place I feel that deeply guilty.

I'm too smart to be spoon-fed my personal values. Every time I've been to Mass this past year, I've spent my time in the clouds, thinking about what I believed, trying to figure it all out. While one of the Fr. Jims spoke dramatically about the need to use the gifts God gave you, or giving money to the Church, or how precious life is-all noble sentiments, to be sure-I was reconsidering everything I'd ever been told, everything I'd ever thought, about what the Church meant to me. I've considered the existence of heaven and hell, the accuracy of the Bible, the definition of good and evil; a whole grab-bag assortment of spiritual issues. Quite honestly, I still don't know which end is up, but the point remains that I am deciding these things for myself.

Don't get me wrong; my belief in a god is about as strong as it ever was. Sadly, that's a relatively weak faith, because nothing I learned in Church helped me reinforce some sort of personal relationship with said divine being. While some may have their conscience settled with a weekly appearance in the pews of their local religious affiliation of choice, I only find it more unsettling. Wresting with my soul is not a pleasant thing to do in front of a group of people who know I exist but don't know who I am, regardless whether they notice its occurrence. The guilt returns because I know everyone else has issues far worse than mine, and I stand here, whining selfishly about my struggle with faith, but that's the only statement I had to make.

(from Honors English 11)