I grew up in a Midwest Catholic household. Dad was from French-Canadian stock. He seldom went to church but his sisters were zealots. They frowned a lot. Ma was devout but not as strict as her sisters-in-law. She went to Mass every Sunday, made hundreds of rosaries “for the missions” out of nickel wire and plastic beads and made her children go to church and catechism every week. Also . . . no meat on Friday, not even for Dad, who laughed a lot.
I spent much of my childhood worrying that Daddy would go to Hell for not going to Mass on Sundays. In the 1950s, this was a “mortal sin.” Ma explained it away by saying he had “a heart condition,” which he did, but even as a kid I wasn’t buying that excuse. He could go to work. That meant he should go to Mass according to Sister Mary Joseph. But Dad was a generous man. The priest would come to our house to have a drink and solicit a pledge for some drive or another. Dad would write a check. I believe these contributions gave him an exemption from eternal damnation.
I left the Church when I left home to go to college mostly because I thought it was sexist and I found the doctrine contradictory. That and I was adamant that I was going to use birth control until I wanted a child.
I am, however, grateful for having been raised Catholic. There was beauty and drama and ceremony and ritual that served my soul. The archaic Latin . . . candles . . . incense . . . changing the priests’ vestment colors with the seasons . . . Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. I still value ritual and a sense of reverence.
One of our rituals at home was saying grace before meals: “Bless us Oh Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ, Our Lord, Amen.” It rolled out of our mouths like a single word.
My current favorite grace was introduced to me by Beloved Son several years ago. Whenever he and I eat together, we say it and I try to say it as often as I remember. It is from Thich Nhat Hanh.
This food is the gift of the whole universe, the earth, the sky, and much hard work.
May we live in a way that makes us worthy to receive it. May we transform our unskillful states of mind, especially our greed, our judgmentalness, our fears, our aggression, and our defensiveness. May we take only foods that nourish us and prevent illness. We accept this food so that we may realize the path of love and compassion.
I’m not “religious,” but I am connected to Spirit every day. Water and food, our most essential elements of survival, are gifts. I like to say thank you for them. I don’t remember to do it all the time. But when I do . . . my world feels clear and grounded.
