Why I Think The Catholic Church Is Worse Then The Mafia

I’m no fan of Catholicism .. haven’t been since I graduated from 12 years of Catholic school.

I have my reasons .. which I won’t go into now.. but let’s just say that my thoughts and opinions were my own. I could argue about theology .. I could argue about idolatry .. I could argue dogma .. but I left the one’s faith alone. If you want to believe it.. you go right ahead Sunshine.

But something happened a few weeks ago that gave me a soapbox and dammit if I’m not going to use it. You let me know what you think. That’s what the comments are for.

We have a Catholic school down the street from me. It’s been there for almost a hundred years. In this little town that I live in, this Catholic school was like a beacon to the community. Something that skewed the reality of “.. this town ain’t what it used to be” for the parishioners.

Yes.. it hasn’t changed for the better but as long as the school was there then BY! GOD! we will still have SOME hope that the kids going there will be property educated and go on to be pillars of society.

That’s what I think they thought anyway.

A few years ago, the church got a new head honcho that no one liked. And not for good reason. I don’t think he realized just what this church meant to this community. Or maybe he did. Maybe he was just a hit man in a cassock.

He started cutting out things here and there.. wouldn’t allow use of the church’s auditorium for elderly bingo and stuff like that. People grumbled.. people vented.. but they still attended mass and forked over money in the collection plate.

That is.. until they made an announcement around December that the school was going to close at the end of this school year.

Now.. the closing of a Catholic school is not such an unusual thing. It’s been happening locally for about the last ten or so years. Enrollment has gone down.. tuition has gone up.. people can’t afford it and with the advent of Charter Schools.. there was an option for a better education then the local public school and it didn’t cost anything.

So why was THIS school closing different?

Because the parents formed a committee to save the school. They protested in front of the BIG Archdiocese church in the city and petitioned the Cardinal. They blasted the head honcho that they despised.

So the church bent a little. They would keep the school open until then end of the NEXT school year but then a nasty little thing happened.

Someone went to the press and the story wasn’t good.

The Archdiocese got pissed off.

While the parents raised money to off set tuition and did everything they could possibly do to raise money to keep the school open, the powers that be were like, “.. ok. We’ll keep the school open BUT you have to come up with 200 enrollments and you only have 3 weeks to do it. Oh.. and to make sure you good Catholic parishioners don’t try to pull a fast one we’re going to increase the 50.00 enrollment fee to 250.00 as.. yknow.. GOOD FAITH”

If you have more then one kid in school.. or even if you ONLY had one kid in school.. that was a big financial impact. And it didn’t matter if your kid have been going there for years. You still had to come up with 250.00 per kid to enroll.

And so the fundraising pulled out all stops. It literally came down to people standing at the major intersection wearing t-shirts and holding sand pails collecting change.

They were going to hold an enrollment shindig at the school to promote new enrollments but the PTB :: Powers That Be :: wouldn’t allow it.

Every time the parents would ask for a number of enrollees to determine how many more kids were needed, the answer never came. The PTB wouldn’t release that information to anyone.. not the parents.. not the press.

It was kind of like, “.. here’s your noose, now go hang yourself with it.”

Very important members of the community started donating HUGE sums of money for The Cause. Upwards of 20,000.

Didn’t matter.

When all was said and done… with the parents having scrapped a number together from going door to door and asking if people had enrolled there kids.. the PTB came down and said Nope.. you didn’t make it. School’s closing in June.

People walked around like they got socked in the belly.

In my oh-so-humble-used-to-be-Catholic opinion, there were things that could have been done to save the school if the jackasses didn’t get their hinds in an uproar. They just didn’t want to.. and that’s the bottom line. They got pushed into a corner by people who’s faith dictates that they will be treated fairly and they dropped the hammer on them.

Instead of working with… they pounced.

Because all along, they knew they were closing the school but with the outpouring of the community, they had to save face so they threw them a bone. Without meat on it.

And that’s wrong. They owe something to this community who came to their aid every time they were asked. New roof.. new this.. new that.. more money.. more money.. more money.

I heard recently that they were going to convert the school into dorms to house Haitian refugees.

They have money for that, right?

They are willing to go all over the world and educate people for free.. but yet they won’t do anything in their own back yard.

And so with the closing of the school, parents are enrolling their kids in other Catholic schools that are out of the area.. and that’s pissing off the head honchos of the neighboring schools off. Church attendance is down.. meaning collection plate money is down.. meaning the church will probably get the ax soon also. And it serves them right. They have played on the faith of their parishioners.. just like the Mafia plays on the fears of people. Only the Mafia doesn’t hide behind the cross to do it.

Oh.

And by the way…

How many school do you think could have been saved if the church hadn’t paid out the millions it did to hush up the molestation victims?

The Pentacostal Experience

… I was raised Catholic.

Italian-Catholic.. and believe me, there IS a difference!

I did the whole Catholic school thing from nursery school to high school graduation.. had the nuns.. the Monte Carlo nights.. the rites.. the passages..

Everything but the Bible, come to think of it!

NOTE: You’re not encouraged to read the bible when you’re a Catholic. If you did, the lid would blow higher then the DaVinci Code.

Anyway.. it’s funny the things that stick with you. Things that are subconsciencely ingrained in the psyche.

I was always taught to questions things and Catholism was always a target. Many times I was sent to the principle’s office in grade school for asking a religious instructor WHY.

Why is St. Joseph a Saint? He didn’t really do anything.. not like the Vatican says you have to do to be a Saint.

Can God create a boulder so big that he can’t lift it?

You know.. the kinds of things that can only come from the mouth of a child.

I was consistantly told that I had to rely on my faith to satisfy my curiosity. But that didn’t wash. To me, that sounded like a cop-out.

I like answers. I like difinitive. I like certainty.. and so I was branded a demon and beat severly with a metal ruler. Well.. the first one is an exaggeration. I only wish the second one was!! LOL

Chief was raised and still is a Pentacostal Christian. Now, I visited alot of different churches in a lot of different denominations.. Baptist, Lutheran but I never messed with the Pentacostals. All that talking in tongues and flaling around on the floor gave me the heebee jeebees. He would laugh at me and explain things and we’d have long, deep conversations regarding different things.

Chief’s a smart guy. Having read the Bible 13 times, he can quote scripture and speak empassionatley. You could say he’s my very own Joel Osteen!

Down the street from our house there is a Pentacostal Church that was started by his grandmother on her front porch. It’s a big church. Not like, 6 Flags Over Jesus or anything but it’s come along way from it’s humble beginnings.

I always teased him about it whenever we drove by :: which is like 6 or 8 times a day :: saying “Hey babe.. isn’t that the church your grandmother started on her front porch?” He’d grumble and I’d laugh.

So one day about a year ago, he said he wanted to take me there but to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE not mention our last name. I asked him why and he said, “Trust me on this one”.

He had this pleading look that I had never seen before.. we joke around alot but this time I could tell he was serious and even though I was busting to say it, I didn’t.

We were greeted by oh.. I don’t know.. EVERYBODY when we went in. Great to see you!! Do you live nearby or are you just passing through?? I’m so-an-so and this is my wife and these are my children and this is my neighbor’s aunt’s sister’s husband’s niece’s grandfather!

Chief held my hand tight and shook hands with everyone and thanked everyone.

Me? Oh.. I had my spider senses out for Kool Aid!

We went in to the.. what? Chapel? Service Center? Altar space? and took a seat near the back.

Someone pointed us out to the preacher and he came over and introduced himself… giving both his first and last name.

Instinctively, Chief did the same and as soon as our last name past his lips I could see the look of horror on his face. OHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOO!!!

The Pastor’s face lit up like a Christmas tree? Oh? THAT’S your last name? Do you know the founder of this church has the same last name????

THAT’S HIS GRANDMOTHER I said alot louder and with more excitement then I really intended.

OHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOO!!

I cut my eyes at Chief and I swear, if he could have he would have grown hair. Fortunately, all I had to do is witness his whole head turning beat read and steam pulse out of his ears like a cartoon character.

The pastor was literally giddy! “Sweet Jesus!” he said, “The Lord is indeed good” and then he turned to somebody else and said “Hey, this couple here are [last name]. He’s the grandson of [granny’s name]”

Then this dude jumps up and rushes over and all of a sudden there’s this buzz that you can feel vibrating through the church .. There’s a [last name] here! There’s a [last name] here!

All these people started coming over and shaking our hand and wanted to ask questions and introduce themselves. I looked at Chief :: who does not like any attention whatsover :: and said, “.. is this where angels sing, the throne comes up from the floor and you’re crowned?”

This was the reason, he explained, why he didn’t want his last name known.

I was getting a kick out of the attention, primarily because Chief was so uncomfortable but before long, the service started and I have to say that I really did enjoy it.

It was long.. but there was alot of singing, a great sermon that was timely, more singing and NO KNEELING!!

There was a woman who “had the spirit” and that was alittle like watching a train wreck because it was so foreign to me but other then that, I came away with something in my heart .. something that made me feel as though I needed to be more Christ-like.

And after all.. isn’t that what it’s all about?

Side-Stepping Saint Anthony

… being raised Catholic, I was taught very early on that whenever something was lost you pray to St. Anthony.

Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony please come around…

Something’s lost and must be found!

Have NOT been a practicing Catholic for more years then I was, it was kind of surprising a few hours ago that I found myself reciting the above “prayer” when I was looking for my keys.

Didn’t find them.

Wasn’t surprised.

So a few minutes ago, when I was sitting her watching the latest Angelina Jolie video I thought, “… bag St. Anthony. Go right to the source.”

I prayed to God to help me find my keys. Sounds exaggerated but my job is really, REALLY on the line because of the amount of times I’ve called out at the last minute and in fact, I am on warning for it. So to email my boss and tell her the I wasn’t going to be in the office because I lost my keys caused a huge lump in my throat.

Since I have already ransacked the house and checked the trash :: nasty :: I figured I would look outside again. Retracing my steps from last night, steps that I retraced about 18 times since 7am… and steps that both Spaz and Bubba retraced with me I found my keys.

Right there.

On the grass.

Next to the car.

Not covered by leaves.. not covered by debris. Right there on top.

Goes to show you when you need something done, cut out the middle man and go right to the BIG GUY!