Lapsed Catholic
Does anyone know for sure if God exists? Like, 100% sure? What about Jesus? Was he just the protagonist in a really famous story or did he really exist? If you find out for definite, will you let me know?
Some people are adamant in their belief. Is that what faith is? Believing something in the absence of hard evidence? I want to believe but I accept that I will never know for sure.
I was raised Catholic. My parents attended mass regularly and my Mother was a Minister of the Eucharist. She called herself an “a-la-carte Catholic” to describe how she didn’t agree or comply with all the rules. She liked to cherry pick and choose. She wasn’t a purest, blindly following an organised religion to the letter. She knew her own mind.
I really liked this quality in her personality. She had an innate sense of right and wrong and a constant direct dial to her gut instinct.
My Dad was a believer too but he didn’t talk about it (he was a do-er not a talker) so for a long time I didn’t know his particular stance on religion or his relationship with God but boy did it become apparent when he was diagnosed with a terminal illness at age 55. He leaned on his faith to endure the toll of his degenerative illness. He never complained, he learnt to laugh and accept his situation and he took great comfort in the inspiration of Saint Mary MacKillop, an Australian Nun and her simple message “Be Calm and Full of Hope” became his mantra.
Growing up in Ireland in the 70’s and 80’s, it was part of the culture to go to mass every Sunday and to be honest I day-dreamed through most of the service. I’d also watch everyone queuing up to receive communion and make judgements on their choice of outfits as if it was a fashion parade catwalk. I did pray though. I prayed for forgiveness for my sins and I prayed for things I wanted like world peace, Levi Jeans and Sasperilla roll-ups.
There was no major pressure put on us kids by our parents to attend mass, so as we got older, we drifted away from regular attendance.
Then all the abuse scandals sickened me and I didn’t want to support an institution that failed so miserably to protect innocent children and facilitated and hid the abusers.
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Plus how good could it be when 50% of the congregation (i.e. women — remember us?) cannot be priests. It didn’t make any sense to me. Also, I’m not into rules made up by someone else. Just like my mother, I have my own set of rules, informed by my gut instinct and what I feel, think and believe to be right.
However, I don’t think that organised religion is all bad. I have witnessed the comfort and strength that many people gain from their religious practise and I respect and admire that. The words of the Gospel and many Bible stories are full of love, peace, generosity and host of other wonderful attributes.
Jesus, if he existed seemed like an all-round fantastic dude! He was so loving and kind to everyone. He gave the ultimate sacrifice for others — his own life. You can’t get more selfless than that.
I hope Jesus existed and I hope God exists. I’ll let you know for sure if I ever find out.
When I die, do I want a religious funeral? No I don’t because it doesn’t fully resonate with me. Instead, I would like a Celebrant-led ‘Celebration of Life’ service at a local Funeral Home to contain singing and live music if possible. If live music is not possible recorded music is fine. I don’t want my funeral wishes to be too onerous on my family. Following the service, I would like to be privately cremated.
I am a Celebrant and a proud member of Entheos, an organisation that was set up to offer an alternative for people who feel disenfranchised by organised religion.
I work with the grieving family to create a ceremony that reflects the deceased’s beliefs and wishes. I love to hear families talk about their loved ones and what they meant to them.
After the funeral, everyone will eventually go back to living their lives but the funeral is your opportunity to celebrate your loved one and tell everyone gathered how great they were and what they meant to you. Not everyone knows your loved one the way you did. Not everyone will miss them as you will. Not everyone had the pleasure of loving and being loved in the way you experienced it. Not everyone knew that my Dad would blare out classical music throughout the house on a Sunday morning to get us out of bed. Not everyone knew that my mother ‘kidnapped’ me from hospital when I was just a few months old because she knew she could care for me better at home.
These are the little stories you might hear at a funeral. Laughter as well as tears can fill in the room. This person meant so much to you that its hard to put it into words but you try and this is your opportunity to proclaim that this person was smart or quirky or kind or humble or shy or funny or brave. Above all they were unique and their funeral will be too.
People ask me ‘How can you do this job?’ Honestly, it’s the best job I’ve ever had. It’s an absolute honour and privilege to me to be able to help people at one of the most difficult times in their life. We’re all in this together, what’s the point of it all if we can’t help each other?
