From this moment on, should you decide to read this Diary, I must warn you it is a tale of soul-wrenching sadness. I was reading another Diary about Anne Rice and her second departure from and break with the Roman Catholic Church. I began thinking about my childhood, growing up in Northern Kentucky in a community where the small Roman Catholic church, St. John the Baptist at John's Hill, Kentucky, was the center of the universe for me and my schoolmates. I entered the school at age four, into first grade. My mother had three small boys at home, all under age five. She begged the nuns to allow me to try first grade on the condition that I could stay in school if I were able to "keep up" with the others. So, I was always the youngest child in every grade through High School. Where I was most loved and inspired and where I was given the most joy and wonder I have ever felt in life, was in that small school at the back of that little country church in Kentucky.
The Roman Catholic Church is in crisis. It has experienced sexual abuse scandals all around the world. The perpetrators are in the ranks of its own priesthood and hierarchy. The amount of money paid out to victims is incalculable. Much of it has been kept secret. Some churches have gone bankrupt. Some Dioceses have expereienced financial ruin due to those payouts. The Pope is looked upon as a figure of ridicule in many places, including in his own former Diocese in Germany. Intelligent and knowledgeable people do not tolerate fools, nor do they accept lies and cover-ups with regard to the abuse of their children. In spit of the good that has been done by the Catholic Church, the crisis of confidence and of faith caused by the sexual abuse cases in so many countries, has rendered the church weaker and struggling to survive. Other issues, such as the ordination of women as priests, the church's stance and active and costly campaigns (funded by all Catholics) against gay and lesbian equality, as well as the outright over-the-line behaviors of priests and Bishops who have campaigned politically (from the pulpit) and who have advocated the denial of Holy Communion (for Catholics, the body and blood of Christ - the source of grace and love and community, no matter the human failures of the communicant)from Senator John Kerry, the late senator Ted Kennedy and other American politicians who believe in the US constitution, their oaths of office, and the separation of church and state. All of that has made it very difficult for many to remain in the church.
The author, Anne Rice, recently declared she is finished with the Catholic Church. She was a faithful Roman Catholic, then left the church. She returned, then she again decided that she has finally had it with the church due to its stance on gay and lesbian equality and dignity. I agree with her.
It is the saddest thing for me to go to the website of the little country church where I went to elementary school and remained a parishoner until I left home to join the USAF. The memories flood my brain. There was such love and energy that inspired me to read and write and inquire and challenge myself and grow. The Sisters of Notre Dame were loving and caring, contrary to the stereotype most often presented in the media. One nun, Sister Mary Selza, took me under her wing when I entered first grade. She loved me with a pure spirit and as a true teacher. But more than that, one memory is the most beautiful. I was unable to tie my own shoelaces as a four year old on the playground. I remember standing and crying. Sister Mary Selza helped me each time and eventually taught me to tie my shoes. Pure love.
Not only is that part of my life over and done with, the small family farm of twenty-four acres where I grew up, which was my father's love and purpose and hobby, was taken by eminent domain years ago. Fortunately my father (and mother) both died before that came about. All I have left is a beatiful Polaroid picture of the farmhouse and the rolling hills surrounding it. It was long ago buried under tons of dirt, piled higher than you could ever imagine, to construct an interstate exchange directly over the valley where the farm once stood. I haven't been back to Northern Kentucky since 1978. I also haven't seen my siblings since then. All of that sadness tore us apart.
Sadness rests in my heart due to the death of that beautiful childhood. What is left is the website of that small country church, now restored/refurbishd as it was when I attended Mass every morning of every schoolday throughout grade school. It is a tourist attraction now. Google street view allows me to drive past the church, school and playgroud in cyberspace - and cry. I also have the one picture of the farm that was my heaven on earth as a child. Nothing else is there. It's as if I dreamed all of that.
I told you this was very sad. But I am grateful that I have the website, google street view and the one polaroid picture. Surely those cherished places must have existed.
The Roman Catholic Church has disappointed so many of us over the last few decades. Something caused the church to turn away from its true purpose, to foster and expand Love in the world. Humans are weak but we are also growing in knowledge and awareness of the wider world. Many former Catholics, Anne Rice included, have finally determined that the church left them years ago. I have joined them. My sadness is real and deep. Sister Mary Selza was the manifestation of the soul of the church that taught me about life and love and so many other things. Sister Mary Selza is dead.
Thu Feb 28, 2013 at 7:02 PM PT: I am reposting this at the urging of another Kossack. I had not thought about its relevance now. Thank you for reminding me. I hope it is read by many of you. I don;t know much about posting. It is the only Diary I ever wrote here. Thanks to Kos for everything. I have been around many years.