Vacillating Feet

When I was nine years old, I had the most beautiful Easter shoes. They were white patent leather (not black patent leather, of course) and they fastened with a little gold clasp in the shape of a butterfly. We had gone all out because I could wear the shoes when I made my first communion later that same spring. I loved those shoes. They were only supposed to be worn for special occasions but I was happy to call any occasion special if I meant I could wear those beautiful shoes.

The summer after that Easter, we moved. Then we moved again the next year. We had a hard time establishing ourselves at a local parish. We drifted from the Church.

And that drift was fine with me. As I settled into my broody teenage years, I didn't believe in anything anymore, much less the teachings of the Catholic Church, but slowly over the years, I began to miss it—not the Church, exactly, but the concept of faith, the idea of belief. 

That longing shows itself in funny ways. When I worked in midtown, during bad days I would sometimes sit in the back at St. Patrick's cathedral, not to pray, but to think (of course, if that didn't work, I consoled myself by buying expensive somethings at the Saks Fifth Avenue next door). When I was planning my wedding, I vaguely wanted someone to read 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13, but I certainly didn't want to be married in a church.

In 2001, I took some of my dot com bubble severance to travel to Ireland. I visited churches upon churches and bought myself a simple silver cross as a token of my Catholic past. Although I still didn't pray, I wore that cross until infertility treatments began to go awry three years later. Then I took it off and put it away. 

 

After the kids were born, I started to think about religion in a different way. I don't worry that not being a part of a church somehow jeopardizes their immortal souls—I don't know if they have immortal souls—but I do worry that they are missing out on something by not being more exposed to the concept of faith.

I dabble in non-Catholic churches, but the last few attempts have been so unsatisying that I won't try again this Easter. Maybe next year.

Faith—is the Pierless Bridge
Supporting what We see
Unto the Scene that We do not—
Too slender for the eye
It bears the Soul as bold
As it were rocked in Steel
With Arms of Steel at either side—
It joins—behind the Veil
To what, could We presume
The Bridge would cease to be
To Our far, vacillating Feet
A first Necessity.

~Emily Dickinson

Comments

[melissa k]

That was lovely. Keep trying! My faith was strengthened when I met my husband. It was always there I guess, but it was easy for me to push it away when bad things happened. Baby steps...you will find what you need.

[liz]

Beautiful post. I've been very much enjoying attending my UU Church, though I haven't joined because I identify pretty strongly as Jewish.

[Diane]

I love this post and can completely identify. As you know, I grew up in a home with a very strong faith. I say that (strong faith) rather than religious, because that's always what it felt like. But my mom, in particular, taught us to cling to and take comfort in the rituals when faith was failing -- to say the words of rosary, genuflect, bless yourself with holy water, pray to the saints, until it returns. After leaving home, I certainly strayed, but, like you, was always drawn there as a place of comfort, but always very conflicted about what I believed, and also the political nature of the catholic church. Despite that, not a few times I found myself in the back of St. Patrick's. And now, married with kids, and after much "church-shopping", we have FINALLY found a church that works for us. I find it enormously comforting, even when its a struggle. Maybe faith becomes more important the older we get.

[Heather]

I really understand about the moving away from the Catholic faith in the teenage years. I've struggled over the years. When I find a priest I can feel really tries to "keep it real" and I can listen to, I want to be there. But I will admit when I am having a trying time of things, I go to my own personal prayers, usually to Mary. I just feel like if anyone is going to understand and help me out, it's between her and me.

So just remember whatever religion you look into, there is still a place for praying in the quiet of your own mind where ever you are. I have a tendency to do it while I'm trying to fall asleep. A combination of thanks for the blessings I have and requests for help in the trials of life.

[Abby]

Such a great post, Ani. I grew up in church, but my definition of faith changed a lot during college. But, in fact, it got stronger for me. I've had my ups and downs with organized religion, but we're in a place that we love now (even if we're not very involved. Those ups and downs have played a big role in my involvement level.) I want my kids to have lifelong friendships, like I have, that started in church. Faith and spirituality aren't tied to a building for me, but they are tied to the relationships and traditions that come from those buildings. So it's all a balancing act in my life. I hope you find what you need to bring peace to your soul, whatever that may be!

[Abby]

Sorry that I called you, Ani! My brain is on Friday Mode. Yikes.