Yes, I went to church for Ash Wednesday. No, the walls did not start bleeding.
I’m not big on the Church and organized religion, although I most definitely pray and believe in God and do actually enjoy attending Mass. (Are you uncomfortable yet? Sorry. Bear with me.)
So, I went to church for the first time in almost a year, took communion, and went home with the biggest, darkest cross on my forehead ever. And somewhere in there, I half listened to the priest (I was at the back, the PA system was so-so and I had to strain to hear him) and half meditated on how giving up soda for Lent was not really a great sacrifice. Although I did reason that I could take the money I spend on soda, set is aside, and use it toward something more meaningful. You think 40 days worth of soda money won’t make a difference? People, you don’t know how bad my addiction is.
And then I took no end of crap for doing all of that.
See, I haven’t been to confession in, um, oh…Let’s just say I was probably in junior high. And being the goody-goody I was, I’m sure the worst offense I had to offer up was some smack-talk about another girl. Point is, I’ve racked up some decent sins since then and have yet to formally ask a priest to make sure I’m good with God. And did I mention I am NOT a regular church goer? I mean, I end up going for Christmas and/or Easter, maybe another random trip in there somewhere, and then maybe a wedding that includes a mass. And even then I’m checking out the groomsmen and counting down to the cocktail hour, not thinking about God and sacraments and whatever.
So here’s my question: am I a bad person for treating the Catholic faith like a buffet? You know, picking and choosing what I want, rejecting the not-so-fun parts? Or is it good enough that I at least acknowledge my hypocrisy, try to be a good person and basically use this blog as a confessional?
And if everyone agrees I need to get myself to a confessional booth, don’t blame ME when the priest freaks out after I go all Jack Donaghy on him.