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WHY AM I CATHOLIC?


I read in interesting article last week that made me reflect on why I am Catholic. The piece was by Ana Marie Cox entitled “Why I’m Coming Out as a Christian.” In it she starts her commentary with “I’m not scared that non-believers will make me feel like an outcast. I’m scared that Christians will.”

Am I afraid of what people will say if I wear my faith on my sleeve? I think of people who do and I often shy away from them because I feel like they are pushing their faith on me. They can state their opinion, but please don’t force it on me. I can make up my own mind. What I would rather see is how a person lives their faith. My favorite example is Pope Francis. He never seems to force his opinion on people although he is also not afraid of making bold statements calling people to task. It is his example from the very moment that he was elected and throughout the last two years that has believers and non-believers alike shouting out his praises. I see him as following the Gospel that Jesus proclaimed more than any other public figure, although there are plenty of other examples who lived and live the Gospel too. I think of Mother Teresa.

I wonder about my hesitancy to proclaim my religiosity. I do it as a chaplain in the hospital but that is part of my job. I think a lot of it has to do with how I was brought up. There are people who have an awakening or conversion experience that transforms them into “born again” Christians. They often are excited about their beliefs and are not afraid to express them. Not me.



I am a “cradle” Catholic, born and raised. My mother was Protestant and my dad was Catholic. They still are after 68 years of marriage. Even though my dad was very strong in his faith, it was my mother who taught us our Catechism. She knew all the answers better than any of kids ever did. She would sit with us and review every question from “Who made us?” and “Why did God make us?” to “What is Purgatory?” until she was satisfied we could recite the correct answer. At night she would sit by our bedside and say our prayers with us, at least until high school when I said that I thought I was old enough to say them myself. She also believed in going to Church as a family but also wanted to remain strong in her faith. So, one week she would go the Catholic Church as a family and the next she would go to her own while we were at Mass.

What it meant was we were a very ecumenical family at a time when I had no idea what that meant. I was very accepting of other religions while remaining strong and secure in my own. But at no time was religion forced on me. It was just part of our existence and daily life. Never would I force my beliefs on anyone else and yet I proudly proclaim I am Catholic. After all, I was born and raised a “cradle” Catholic by my Protestant mother.

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