My personal sense of Catholicism
Let me start this off with a bit of a disclaimer to my friends, or to those who may stumble upon this entry. This is being written in no way or form to lambast anyone out there who does not share this sentiment. This is after all, first and foremost, a Journal. And so I write this for myself. Why not keep it private? Because if at least one person out there comes away with something positive from anything I may write, then I have at least done some part in making this world a slightly better place.
I was raised in a family that was not much different from any other typical Catholic Filipino family. We went to mass every Sunday, prayed the rosary while on the road to go to our regular sunday lunches, or whenever we were on the road to go out of town. During the month of the Holy Rosary, my grandfather would corral us, together with the household help, to pray the rosary every evening at 6pm.
As a child, of course (and even as a young adult), these practices mostly bored me or even caused me to be bitter about the time I was "wasting away" when I could be doing something better (like watch TV, or not-be-praying). I admit, I was never excited to pray or even go to Mass.
As a teenager, I joined the Knights of the Altar, but thinking about it now, I probably did it more because my core group of friends were all in it as well.
I was fortunate enough to join the Life in the Spirit Seminar as a young adult, and eventually join my parish's Praise Ministry, and was blessed enough to have (to a certain point) served in it because I felt an honest devotion to God and a sense of blessing for the skills that He had given me. I just wanted to pay it back to Him somehow. To this day I would feel the urge (a calling if you will) to continue to give back this musical talent. I sometimes feel as though I am more, for lack of a better term, "successful" at being in a praise ministry than in being part of a rock and roll band.
Nowadays, I live like any average practicing Catholic lives his life. I go to Mass every Sunday and admittedly would end up losing focus for what seems like 90% of the time, if not more. On occasion though, I would find myself in a moment of pure inspiration. Those rare times when I could clearly feel a stirring within me. For those times, I am truly grateful.
I still pray at night before I go to bed, whenever I remember to do so. I pray the same prayer that was taught to me as a child. The same prayer my mother would pray with me before tucking me into bed. This same prayer I will teach to my own child, along with the same short spiel my mother taught me. Every time I recite that spiel, I am transported back in time to my Lola's bedside where I used to sleep.
As you can tell, I am no more "Catholic-y" as the next person. I have never been preachy about my religion, and would never get into discussion about which religion (or lack thereof) is the best. As far as I am concerned, as long as a person has a strong set of morals or chooses the better path between good or evil, his or her belief is of no concern to me.
But tonight, at this very moment, I am thankful. Thankful for all those times I was "made" to go to church, pray the rosary, or pray family novenas, much to my dismay. Because someway, somehow, I have never forgotten to pray. I have never lost belief in Jesus, Mary, or God, nor have I questioned my own faith. If I was simply hardwired into this sense of Catholicism, then so be it. I have no complaints. To each his own.
Could I be a better Catholic? Of course. Would I want to be one? Most definitely. Might it be hard? I am sure. I am only human, after all.
I guess this entry serves more as a reminder to myself of this very moment. I'm sure I will forget all about this one day. That stirring within me that I mentioned earlier is very much active right now.
I am thankful.
I was raised in a family that was not much different from any other typical Catholic Filipino family. We went to mass every Sunday, prayed the rosary while on the road to go to our regular sunday lunches, or whenever we were on the road to go out of town. During the month of the Holy Rosary, my grandfather would corral us, together with the household help, to pray the rosary every evening at 6pm.
As a child, of course (and even as a young adult), these practices mostly bored me or even caused me to be bitter about the time I was "wasting away" when I could be doing something better (like watch TV, or not-be-praying). I admit, I was never excited to pray or even go to Mass.
As a teenager, I joined the Knights of the Altar, but thinking about it now, I probably did it more because my core group of friends were all in it as well.
I was fortunate enough to join the Life in the Spirit Seminar as a young adult, and eventually join my parish's Praise Ministry, and was blessed enough to have (to a certain point) served in it because I felt an honest devotion to God and a sense of blessing for the skills that He had given me. I just wanted to pay it back to Him somehow. To this day I would feel the urge (a calling if you will) to continue to give back this musical talent. I sometimes feel as though I am more, for lack of a better term, "successful" at being in a praise ministry than in being part of a rock and roll band.
Nowadays, I live like any average practicing Catholic lives his life. I go to Mass every Sunday and admittedly would end up losing focus for what seems like 90% of the time, if not more. On occasion though, I would find myself in a moment of pure inspiration. Those rare times when I could clearly feel a stirring within me. For those times, I am truly grateful.
I still pray at night before I go to bed, whenever I remember to do so. I pray the same prayer that was taught to me as a child. The same prayer my mother would pray with me before tucking me into bed. This same prayer I will teach to my own child, along with the same short spiel my mother taught me. Every time I recite that spiel, I am transported back in time to my Lola's bedside where I used to sleep.
As you can tell, I am no more "Catholic-y" as the next person. I have never been preachy about my religion, and would never get into discussion about which religion (or lack thereof) is the best. As far as I am concerned, as long as a person has a strong set of morals or chooses the better path between good or evil, his or her belief is of no concern to me.
But tonight, at this very moment, I am thankful. Thankful for all those times I was "made" to go to church, pray the rosary, or pray family novenas, much to my dismay. Because someway, somehow, I have never forgotten to pray. I have never lost belief in Jesus, Mary, or God, nor have I questioned my own faith. If I was simply hardwired into this sense of Catholicism, then so be it. I have no complaints. To each his own.
Could I be a better Catholic? Of course. Would I want to be one? Most definitely. Might it be hard? I am sure. I am only human, after all.
I guess this entry serves more as a reminder to myself of this very moment. I'm sure I will forget all about this one day. That stirring within me that I mentioned earlier is very much active right now.
I am thankful.