Blog Dis
To rest, perchance to reflect...
2026-04-02
The long Easter weekend begins tomorrow, with a Statutory Holiday. For those who follow Catholic practices, you'll be avoiding meat on Good Friday, and opting instead for fish, as well as to throw a feast for the whole damn family on Easter Monday. Somewhere in between these days you'll be attending at least two main liturgical celebrations, though these are officially recognized as Masses, also viewed as liturgy masses.
I find it all so very confusing. I was raised Catholic but not by choice. No child makes it a personal choice to adopt religion. Religion is the fantasy realm of adults and wishful thinking, wanting to mold us into pious human beings, apparently. Being born into a Catholic family means that one parent was more than likely raised Catholic. In this case, this describes my father's family, who emigrated from County Cork, Ireland, to Canada. I've read enough historical books to know that Ireland has been held in the stronghold of Catholicism for over 1,500 years, having arrived in the 5th Century, though this popular religion faced intense opposition with the Protestant reformation during the 16th and 17th centuries. Ironically, mom had converted from the Protestant faith, despite being raised as one in Germany, in order to become a Catholic to marry my father.
It's beyond my comprehension, how any woman would want to convert, or a man for that matter, in order to marry someone whose faith has been viewed as an aggressor toward their religion of choice. I may have grown up with the Catholic faith but I fought the indoctrination every step of the way, challenging as one example the insanity of participating in the ritual of Confession. My discontent began when I was a wee tot. Even as a young girl, I was able to take a step back, to understand that young kids have not yet lived long enough to commit sins, or to repent their sins, and to confess them in detail to some priest dressed in his official robes, and to do so in a dark box, speaking into a latticed panel that slides open, when the priest is open for business. A child's first confession has to occur before their Frist Holy Communion, typically around 7 or 8 years of age. Confessions, as they go, can occur once a year, at a minimum, or frequently, depending on the individual and their sins. Typically, it's fashionable to complete a confession on Holy weekends, such as Easter weekend. Regardless, the concept of confessing my sins couldn't be reconciled by my young brain, still in its development stage, and obviously flooded with far too many mixed messages. It was impossible to think straight. Hell, I wasn't able to sit still whenever I attended mass.
Here I should list some of the mortal sins that require confession: first up we have any violation of one of the Ten Commandments (murder, idolatry, blasphemy, adultery, theft, perjury, and skipping Sunday Mass). Then there are Sexual sins: abortion, masturbation, r*pe, pornography, fornication, and any acts that are contrary to chastity. Finally, to top off the mortal sins list there is suicide (a big no-no) as well as hatred of your neighbor and willful neglect of duty. I believe this pretty much covers the worst of mortal sins. To a 13 year-old, it's like being told from the outset that whatever you're thinking, doing, not doing, about to do, or have done in the past, you're pretty much damned in the eyes of the Church. Dare I admit that when I was asked to step into the confessional booth for the first time, I had already written in my head a list of lies, so that I could at least offer up something to confess to the priest, before I received his blessing, in order for me to be able to leave feeling relieved that all my sins were absolved.
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned... it has been X-number of weeks since my last confession." The preamble to your confession has already locked you into a state of guilt, and this is the entire foundation of Catholicism, to my mind, guilt for being a feeling, free-thinking, breathing human being whose body at the age of teenage hood is raging on hormones, irrational actions and thoughts, and on the whole immaturity. In case you're wondering, yes! Young girls not only play with themselves, shocker but we also engage in some of the dirtiest fantasies. This is what fantasy role-playing is all about: to position yourself in a situation that is unrealistic, exciting and dangerous, without one drop of harm coming to you.
So, one day while enjoying a glass of wine with a gal-pal, I casually asked or rather curiously prodded:
"Tell me the brutal truth... when you were a young girl, what kind of fantasies did you have?" My friend's reply didn't come as a shock to me.
"Oh... you know the usual, being ravaged by my favorite hockey team of players, after a win, in their locker room. I'm all by myself, and I get to have sex with each one of them, one at a time." 😅
Indeed... the usual. 🥳
Hers was and is perhaps still a relevant fantasy, one that would surely get ticked off the list of mortal sins. Young girls are not pure in thought, any more than are young boys. Society, however, has groomed us long before we began to discover the pleasures of our bodies, which I suppose explains why the Catholic Church places a great deal of emphasis on guilt, to pile it high and deep, in order to permeate the conscience of every Catholic. This isn't a realistic approach to reach the growing population of young people, though I must begrudgingly admit that this approach made it easier on parents to control their kids. Parents could always use the notion of paying for your sins to bully their children into becoming better human beings.
I can't recall the last time I had stepped into a Church to worship, not if you don't count attending a wedding in a Church, which I've done many times. I've one female friend who says that each time she steps inside a Church, she feels like her skin is on fire.
After my father had passed away, when I was a young adult, I would often hear my Mom opine, "I hope one day that all my children return to the Church," which I'd reply with a snarky comment to the effect of, "It'll be a cold day in Hell before that happens." I had meant it at the time. I still do to this day but as I've evolved and experienced more in life, I realize now that my flippant attitude didn't have to be expressed in this fashion to my mother, who says her rosary each day. Now I adopt a more mature attitude that we each are entitled, and should be encouraged, to adopt whatever beliefs that ring true to us, so long as we don't go out of our way to ram these beliefs down the throat of another. Free, yes, to hold our personal views but not sanctimony, to give yourself the justification to proselytize, and point the finger at someone else, to chastise them for their behavior or lack of faith.
Over 2,000 years and we're still dealing with the toxicity of religion, in all denominations, some worse than others. All the while the Catholic Church has been existing in a continual state of privilege, to practice their rituals and hold mass in buildings that are not subject to income or property taxes, while parishioners are unable to avoid having to pay their taxes, or suffer the consequences, and who are also doling out money to the Church. This applies to Mosques too, incidentally; they too are exempt with having to pay taxes.
During the pandemic, I recall how my mother was called by her local Church, asking her to continue to make donations, to tithe as they say, despite her not being able to attend Church. This will also be the thorn in my side that religious ideology is exempt from reality, to skate by in life, and to be able to hoard their money. It's difficult to put a total dollar value on the wealth of the Catholic Church. Some estimate that it ranges between $30 and $250 Billion, given that the Church and its vast outreach, and locations, have many priceless works. Here is where I'd like to suggest that it's high time for the Catholic Church to help pay the taxes of their poorest parishioners, who attend weekly mass, are reverential in their worship, as well as the role of the Church in their lives, but who are often barely scraping by, living below the poverty line. Yet, they're still asked to give to the Church. Not me. I don't buy into it, not one bloody bit. I shall never buy into it. I speak from experience when I say how disappointed I was when a sibling wanted to marry for the first time, the Church refused to do so because her intended was previously married, and divorce was shunned upon.
Easter weekend for me now means a period of rest, to reflect and chill out, and maybe to watch some Sci-Fi movies, one of my fav genres into which I can escape the vicissitudes of life. Where I had worked previously, for close to a decade, I supported a tax department, and Good Friday was not observed as a day off, as it is for many. Corporations and their bottom-line profit cannot fit into the paradigm of religious fervor. Now I enjoy Easter weekend, and sometimes, I've watched religious-minded movies, such as I did the other weekend. Risen, a movie released in 2016, focuses on the role of a Roman tribune who desperately wants to avoid controversy following the crucifixion of Christ. The Romans were responsible for legitimizing Christianity, through Emperor Constantine, who had made it an acceptable practice. Most are familiar with the tale of how Pontius Pilate had condemned Christ to die on the cross but Christ at that time was known as Yeshua, not Jesus, and he was regarded as a revolutionary, for preaching love — the exact opposite of Roman rule and their methods, to conquer and kill entire populations, to prove that might is right.
By the way, there are differing myths that are upheld by other areas in the world, such a Kashmir, the northern most area in the continent of India. Kashmiris believe, without doubt, that the Jews didn't in fact kill Christ but that they had helped him to fake his death, to escape Roman persecution, and to aid him to travel to Kashmir where he is buried. Far, far one day, down the road, in my future, I'd like to visit Kashmir. My wish list of travel destinations never appears to decrease.
Finally, it wasn't until I was much older that I learned why the idea of Easter was associated with bunny-rabbits. Easter eggs, and the hunt at home to find this buried treasure, is rooted in pagan traditions, to celebrate Spring and re-birth. When it comes to birthing, it's true that bunnies like to fornicate, just like humans, though they do not lay eggs. Instead, rabbits engage in what is called 'kindle', to build a nest of hay, after a short gestation period, where they'll birth anywhere between three to twelve 'kits' as they're called, baby bunnies who are as cute as a button. It's therefore a no-brainer to see how this has represented a marketing bonanza for companies. Easter is an awesome excuse to sell chocolate, only trouble is that the price of chocolate has sky-rocketed in the last five years. I trust, too, the irony isn't lost on you: Easter, a religious occasion of deep recognition, is represented by the rabbit, perhaps wildly regarded as one of the horniest creatures on the planet.
I best sign off, and head out to buy me some chocolate while supplies last. If, after reading this post, you're reminding yourself, "This is all wrong! Religion is the reason why I am spiritual." I'd like to counter your assertion by stating the obvious: religion is you looking outside of yourself for answers. Whereas, spirituality is you looking within yourself for answers. We all have a moral center, whether we choose to admit it or not, and we all know when we've wronged someone. You don't need religion to tell you that you're a good person because you pray every day, to recognize an ideology, just because your parents were raised this way, and have passed it on to you.
Think for yourself!
If it helps your brain, nosh on some chocolate. Knock yourself out.
I find it all so very confusing. I was raised Catholic but not by choice. No child makes it a personal choice to adopt religion. Religion is the fantasy realm of adults and wishful thinking, wanting to mold us into pious human beings, apparently. Being born into a Catholic family means that one parent was more than likely raised Catholic. In this case, this describes my father's family, who emigrated from County Cork, Ireland, to Canada. I've read enough historical books to know that Ireland has been held in the stronghold of Catholicism for over 1,500 years, having arrived in the 5th Century, though this popular religion faced intense opposition with the Protestant reformation during the 16th and 17th centuries. Ironically, mom had converted from the Protestant faith, despite being raised as one in Germany, in order to become a Catholic to marry my father.
It's beyond my comprehension, how any woman would want to convert, or a man for that matter, in order to marry someone whose faith has been viewed as an aggressor toward their religion of choice. I may have grown up with the Catholic faith but I fought the indoctrination every step of the way, challenging as one example the insanity of participating in the ritual of Confession. My discontent began when I was a wee tot. Even as a young girl, I was able to take a step back, to understand that young kids have not yet lived long enough to commit sins, or to repent their sins, and to confess them in detail to some priest dressed in his official robes, and to do so in a dark box, speaking into a latticed panel that slides open, when the priest is open for business. A child's first confession has to occur before their Frist Holy Communion, typically around 7 or 8 years of age. Confessions, as they go, can occur once a year, at a minimum, or frequently, depending on the individual and their sins. Typically, it's fashionable to complete a confession on Holy weekends, such as Easter weekend. Regardless, the concept of confessing my sins couldn't be reconciled by my young brain, still in its development stage, and obviously flooded with far too many mixed messages. It was impossible to think straight. Hell, I wasn't able to sit still whenever I attended mass.
Here I should list some of the mortal sins that require confession: first up we have any violation of one of the Ten Commandments (murder, idolatry, blasphemy, adultery, theft, perjury, and skipping Sunday Mass). Then there are Sexual sins: abortion, masturbation, r*pe, pornography, fornication, and any acts that are contrary to chastity. Finally, to top off the mortal sins list there is suicide (a big no-no) as well as hatred of your neighbor and willful neglect of duty. I believe this pretty much covers the worst of mortal sins. To a 13 year-old, it's like being told from the outset that whatever you're thinking, doing, not doing, about to do, or have done in the past, you're pretty much damned in the eyes of the Church. Dare I admit that when I was asked to step into the confessional booth for the first time, I had already written in my head a list of lies, so that I could at least offer up something to confess to the priest, before I received his blessing, in order for me to be able to leave feeling relieved that all my sins were absolved.
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned... it has been X-number of weeks since my last confession." The preamble to your confession has already locked you into a state of guilt, and this is the entire foundation of Catholicism, to my mind, guilt for being a feeling, free-thinking, breathing human being whose body at the age of teenage hood is raging on hormones, irrational actions and thoughts, and on the whole immaturity. In case you're wondering, yes! Young girls not only play with themselves, shocker but we also engage in some of the dirtiest fantasies. This is what fantasy role-playing is all about: to position yourself in a situation that is unrealistic, exciting and dangerous, without one drop of harm coming to you.
So, one day while enjoying a glass of wine with a gal-pal, I casually asked or rather curiously prodded:
"Tell me the brutal truth... when you were a young girl, what kind of fantasies did you have?" My friend's reply didn't come as a shock to me.
"Oh... you know the usual, being ravaged by my favorite hockey team of players, after a win, in their locker room. I'm all by myself, and I get to have sex with each one of them, one at a time." 😅
Indeed... the usual. 🥳
Hers was and is perhaps still a relevant fantasy, one that would surely get ticked off the list of mortal sins. Young girls are not pure in thought, any more than are young boys. Society, however, has groomed us long before we began to discover the pleasures of our bodies, which I suppose explains why the Catholic Church places a great deal of emphasis on guilt, to pile it high and deep, in order to permeate the conscience of every Catholic. This isn't a realistic approach to reach the growing population of young people, though I must begrudgingly admit that this approach made it easier on parents to control their kids. Parents could always use the notion of paying for your sins to bully their children into becoming better human beings.
I can't recall the last time I had stepped into a Church to worship, not if you don't count attending a wedding in a Church, which I've done many times. I've one female friend who says that each time she steps inside a Church, she feels like her skin is on fire.
After my father had passed away, when I was a young adult, I would often hear my Mom opine, "I hope one day that all my children return to the Church," which I'd reply with a snarky comment to the effect of, "It'll be a cold day in Hell before that happens." I had meant it at the time. I still do to this day but as I've evolved and experienced more in life, I realize now that my flippant attitude didn't have to be expressed in this fashion to my mother, who says her rosary each day. Now I adopt a more mature attitude that we each are entitled, and should be encouraged, to adopt whatever beliefs that ring true to us, so long as we don't go out of our way to ram these beliefs down the throat of another. Free, yes, to hold our personal views but not sanctimony, to give yourself the justification to proselytize, and point the finger at someone else, to chastise them for their behavior or lack of faith.
Over 2,000 years and we're still dealing with the toxicity of religion, in all denominations, some worse than others. All the while the Catholic Church has been existing in a continual state of privilege, to practice their rituals and hold mass in buildings that are not subject to income or property taxes, while parishioners are unable to avoid having to pay their taxes, or suffer the consequences, and who are also doling out money to the Church. This applies to Mosques too, incidentally; they too are exempt with having to pay taxes.
During the pandemic, I recall how my mother was called by her local Church, asking her to continue to make donations, to tithe as they say, despite her not being able to attend Church. This will also be the thorn in my side that religious ideology is exempt from reality, to skate by in life, and to be able to hoard their money. It's difficult to put a total dollar value on the wealth of the Catholic Church. Some estimate that it ranges between $30 and $250 Billion, given that the Church and its vast outreach, and locations, have many priceless works. Here is where I'd like to suggest that it's high time for the Catholic Church to help pay the taxes of their poorest parishioners, who attend weekly mass, are reverential in their worship, as well as the role of the Church in their lives, but who are often barely scraping by, living below the poverty line. Yet, they're still asked to give to the Church. Not me. I don't buy into it, not one bloody bit. I shall never buy into it. I speak from experience when I say how disappointed I was when a sibling wanted to marry for the first time, the Church refused to do so because her intended was previously married, and divorce was shunned upon.
Easter weekend for me now means a period of rest, to reflect and chill out, and maybe to watch some Sci-Fi movies, one of my fav genres into which I can escape the vicissitudes of life. Where I had worked previously, for close to a decade, I supported a tax department, and Good Friday was not observed as a day off, as it is for many. Corporations and their bottom-line profit cannot fit into the paradigm of religious fervor. Now I enjoy Easter weekend, and sometimes, I've watched religious-minded movies, such as I did the other weekend. Risen, a movie released in 2016, focuses on the role of a Roman tribune who desperately wants to avoid controversy following the crucifixion of Christ. The Romans were responsible for legitimizing Christianity, through Emperor Constantine, who had made it an acceptable practice. Most are familiar with the tale of how Pontius Pilate had condemned Christ to die on the cross but Christ at that time was known as Yeshua, not Jesus, and he was regarded as a revolutionary, for preaching love — the exact opposite of Roman rule and their methods, to conquer and kill entire populations, to prove that might is right.
By the way, there are differing myths that are upheld by other areas in the world, such a Kashmir, the northern most area in the continent of India. Kashmiris believe, without doubt, that the Jews didn't in fact kill Christ but that they had helped him to fake his death, to escape Roman persecution, and to aid him to travel to Kashmir where he is buried. Far, far one day, down the road, in my future, I'd like to visit Kashmir. My wish list of travel destinations never appears to decrease.
Finally, it wasn't until I was much older that I learned why the idea of Easter was associated with bunny-rabbits. Easter eggs, and the hunt at home to find this buried treasure, is rooted in pagan traditions, to celebrate Spring and re-birth. When it comes to birthing, it's true that bunnies like to fornicate, just like humans, though they do not lay eggs. Instead, rabbits engage in what is called 'kindle', to build a nest of hay, after a short gestation period, where they'll birth anywhere between three to twelve 'kits' as they're called, baby bunnies who are as cute as a button. It's therefore a no-brainer to see how this has represented a marketing bonanza for companies. Easter is an awesome excuse to sell chocolate, only trouble is that the price of chocolate has sky-rocketed in the last five years. I trust, too, the irony isn't lost on you: Easter, a religious occasion of deep recognition, is represented by the rabbit, perhaps wildly regarded as one of the horniest creatures on the planet.
I best sign off, and head out to buy me some chocolate while supplies last. If, after reading this post, you're reminding yourself, "This is all wrong! Religion is the reason why I am spiritual." I'd like to counter your assertion by stating the obvious: religion is you looking outside of yourself for answers. Whereas, spirituality is you looking within yourself for answers. We all have a moral center, whether we choose to admit it or not, and we all know when we've wronged someone. You don't need religion to tell you that you're a good person because you pray every day, to recognize an ideology, just because your parents were raised this way, and have passed it on to you.
Think for yourself!
If it helps your brain, nosh on some chocolate. Knock yourself out.
