In light of the Pope’s recent visit to Lisbon, where I reside, I have been reflecting on my relationship with Catholicism. Despite being brought up in the faith, I no longer identify as Catholic.
In my disillusionment with the church, I found it increasingly difficult to align myself with its values due to the numerous sexual abuse scandals and cover-ups that surfaced. However, my decision to leave the religion stems from more personal reasons.
When my father was diagnosed with cancer in 2014, I prayed fervently, but my prayers went unanswered and he passed away in 2015 at the age of 55. Growing up in a white household with white parents and a white brother, I was always puzzled about my own appearance, as I am not white. Following my father’s death, DNA tests confirmed that my mother had an affair with a black man, a person I know nothing about, and that my biological connection to my father was nonexistent. The revelation shattered the illusion of my entire life.
I have documented the impact of this revelation in my columns and book, “Raceless”. More recently, I have been examining how religion contributed to the culture of racial silence that pervaded my upbringing. While people often joke about Catholic guilt, Irish Catholic guilt is a more serious burden. My mother, who was raised on a farm in County Clare, adhered to strict Catholic principles where attending mass and completing chores were prerequisites for dinner and leisure. Adultery was deemed a cardinal sin. Yet, because no one confronted her about raising a black child, including my father, she chose to ignore the truth right in front of her.
Nevertheless, it would be too simplistic to place the blame solely on my mother’s choices regarding religion. The tipping point that shattered my faith in the Catholic church occurred during a direct encounter with a priest while we were grieving. This priest revealed himself to be an arrogant egomaniac. My mother, brother, and I sought his guidance to discuss my father’s funeral arrangements. However, he ridiculed our hymn choices and dismissed our requests for specific readings. The priest’s behavior showcased a power trip, leaving us shocked and without the support we desperately needed.
I had decided to deliver my father’s eulogy, but the priest tried to dissuade me, claiming that I would break down and disrupt the service. I stood my ground, as my close relationship with my father made me the most suitable person for the task. The priest’s audacity escalated when he belittled the idea of a lengthy eulogy, declaring it boring and dictating that it should be limited to three minutes. I was appalled and refused to comply. “Forget it, Father,” I asserted, and we walked out. Since that encounter, I have rarely stepped foot inside a church, and my connection to Catholicism began to unravel.
This encounter with the self-centered and domineering priest provided insight into how individuals within the Church could commit heinous acts. When a man is deemed a “liturgical icon” of Jesus Christ, as Catholics do, and is granted food, shelter, and protection from accountability, self-importance and abuse of power often prevail.
As a child, I was taught that I was inherently sinful and should constantly assess and confess my private conduct. Succumbing to my Irish Catholic mother’s wishes, I attended Sunday school and volunteered to read the Bible before the congregation. Parroting the Church’s stance on various social issues such as abortion, sex, gay marriage, and euthanasia became a means to excel academically. However, upon reflection, I perceive much of what I learned as hypocritical. Additionally, considering the impact of silence and shame on my female friends and their sexuality, I feel a sense of anger.
Although I accompanied my mother on a visit to the Vatican a few years ago, I am no longer a practicing Catholic. The outdated and harmful attitudes towards women’s bodies make me hesitant to enroll any hypothetical future children in Catholic schools. While I appreciate the sense of community and connection fostered during my schooling, secular schools can provide the same experience. Currently, my Catholicism is on hold.
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