In the Catholic church one is told not to question anything. I just sent a posthumous fathers’ day note to my college in memory of the two priests who actually meant something to me and contributed significantly to my education.
The interim president at my alma mater is a Brother. There are no Sisters, or Mothers.
One of the reasons I do not espouse the religion I was forced to grow up with (to marry, my Lutheran father was forced to give up rights of religion for his children). We went to Mass in hats and gloves and he made pancakes upon our return.
Midnight Mass Christmas Eve was a revelation. I always knew Catholics couldn’t sing their way out of a paper bag, but this Lutheran service was transcendent. I sang harmony not even knowing the words. A revelry and a moment in time.
The HRC church has always relegated women to the background. Nuns feed hungry kids when they’re not torturing grade school children. When I was first told about sex and thought my parents never had it I questioned the “immaculate conception.”
The HRC church is based on the assumption that although women carry babies, they are of no consequence. We did not get married by my favorite Priest because of forced religious counseling and my husband would have to agree to be Catholic. That’s what they did to my father and I would never let them do it to my husband or children. We were never able to have children and they haven’t tried to make a religious dog out of our Zoe and she’s 80 in dog years.
Instead, I found a Navy Captain (USN, Ret.) to marry us, and we eloped. I will continue to see my favorite churches here and in Europe but will never join the HRC church because my gender is not welcome there. It’s a serious error. What if half the male population died off because of some strange disease? Even if only 100 were left they’d proclaim one the Messiah and plan for two millenia more of subjugation of women. Before that happens, we get the power and for a change, share it.
In the end I do wish to offer congratulations to my Lutheran father on father’s day and to my two, RIP, favorite priests. God bless. Dee
Cooking with Dee 