Silence
I look back at my previous blog posts and realize that I have not written in a while. I ask myself “Why?” Why do I no longer experience the spiritual fire to write about faith and the love of God? Why the silence?
I have struggled for eight years with my faith tradition, the Roman Catholic Church (RCC). There are many doctrines and dogmas for which I am opposed: Dogmas such as those condemning homosexuality, birth control, divorce, and women’s ordination. And I struggle with the Church’s view on authority and the papacy. There are other theological issues with which I struggle, too, such as justification through faith and works. And reading through Paul’s letter to the Romans stirs up these issues for me once again. Romans 4 is crystal clear to me: “But [for] those who depend on faith, not on deeds, and [for those] who believe in the God who declares the guilty to be innocent, it is this faith that God takes into account in order to put them right with himself” (Romans 4:5). And this is not even taking into account what Paul teaches about justification in Galatians and Ephesians. We are justified, made right with God, by our faith in Jesus Christ and nothing else. Good works, I am convinced, are the fruit of God’s grace, necessary to live out our faith but part of our sanctification. As Christians we are to do good to all we encounter, even our enemies. But we cannot do this good by our own volition. We do good because we are justified by faith through the free, generous gift of God’s grace (Romans 3:24). This just makes so much sense to me, whereas the Roman Catholic position -- we are justified by faith and works -- does not.
As a Catholic, I turn to the documents of the Church for guidance, namely the Catechism of the Catholic Church. This long work is the RCC guide to theological beliefs. This guide, furthermore, is a convergence of all of the Church’s historical documents put together as one narrative of doctrines and dogmas. It contains the magisterial authoritative voice, then. As a faithful follower of Christ, and with the desire to be a more informed Catholic, I read through and made notes on the entire 800-plus-page document. It has haunted me ever since. Sometimes, I guess, ignorance is bliss. But it is too late for that. By reading through all of the Church's theological and dogmatic positions, I feel as if I opened Pandora's box. Although there are many beautiful doctrines contained therein -- the Trinity, the Eucharist, Mary, Jesus, the saints, the sacraments -- there are many doctrines that continue to trouble my conscience, doctrines with which I simply cannot agree. It has been an eight-year struggle; I don’t think things are going to change.
Many ask why I don’t just change churches, finding a church for which I doctrinally agree. I have tried this. However, my wife, whom I love and adore -- my soulmate and the mother of my children -- wants to remain Catholic and could care less about those doctrines that preoccupy me. She loves the Church and can get past the bumps and bruises of its imperfections. Why can’t I?
I have attended other churches, Episcopal and Evangelical Lutheran, both denominations that I admire. But as I sit in the pew and pray, I feel an emptiness without my wife and children next to me. Church and worship for me must include those that I most intimately love. And I do not want to impose my struggles upon my wife and children, although this has been unavoidable at times. If they find peace in Catholicism, then I should put their happiness first as I have tired for some time. After all, it is what Jesus did on the cross for me. He suffered humiliation, torture, and a criminal’s execution for my faults and sins when, according to the Gospels and his prayer in Gethsemane, he would have rather not taken on the cross. Who am I, then, to complain? And why do I continue to struggle with this issue after all this time?
To be honest, I haven’t a clue. But I know one thing for sure -- God’s love is bigger than all of this or any problem that I may experience. So I continue to practice a faith tradition to which I cannot fully commit, a tradition that often troubles my conscience. I find it frustrating, but the consolation is that I do it with and for my family. And I know that no matter what the Christian tradition, Christ is present at its core. As a Catholic, I am in his body. I just wish I could embrace this tradition, a tradition that has left me feeling empty and angry at times.
For the few who read this weekly celebration of God’s love, the above diatribe may be the root of my silence. I am not sure. But I hope that this period of silence will soon cease. I pray that God’s peace and love permeate the hearts of all people and that he grant us the wisdom and grace to always do what pleases him. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray, amen.
Peace,
Stan
