By Laura Stec
Holiest Meal and I Can’t Eat?Uploaded: May 20, 2014
I am back in Michigan this week, visiting family and working an encore performance of my mom's famous garage sales. She has quite the yard sale CV, including 20 years as head honcho of the White Elephant Sale at St. Alphonsus (my Dearborn, Michigan grade school & high school alma mater).
When visiting, I do things I don't do in CA, such as attend Catholic mass. To be clear, Jesus is just alright with me, and the new pope rocks, but when in CA, I tend to find God in many places; Mother Nature being the most prominent. After mass, my mom and I went out to dinner and she took me by surprise with a casual dinner comment, "Laura, why do you attend communion?" I thought for a moment and said, "out of respect to you and the church." (when in Rome, right?) We went on eating with no more discussion about the topic.
After dinner, I met up with my friend Colleen, a high school buddy from St. Als. The topic got onto religion and interestingly she said her mother has asked her the same thing! "Why would someone question that?" I said. Colleen replied, "Because if you don't regularly attend mass, taking communion is a mortal sin, unless you first attend confession."
You're saying the system that covered up rampant abuse of young boys for decades, if not centuries, is going to tell me that I am not good enough to eat the host because I don't sit in one of their buildings but a couple times a year? I'm a truthful person who believes in the Golden Rule, lives a low footprint (and food print), loves kids, and works an honest day for an honest dollar. Sorry, I just can't agree with that decree, or the requirement to come into a building to be close to God. Honestly, I bet God doesn't believe that either. If you come to my house for a visit, you sit at my table.
Hmmmm, have you noticed? These past two weeks share a theme. I inadvertently trespassed last week and I guess in the eyes of the powers that be… oops…I did it again.
Is it just me, or does anyone else see the hypocrisy in all of it?
Next week: my great grandparents prohibition-era speakeasy in Detroit