Quest for Immortality

On Being Catholic

A few months after I was born, I was baptized into the Roman Catholic religion, as was most of my family and close relatives.  Had I any say in the matter back then, I probably would not complain.  My mother, I would say, is almost borderline religious. She follows to the best of her ability all Catholic traditions. She goes to church every Sunday if time permits, prays the rosary, the novena, and everything.  But she never forced any of those to her two children.  I think she thought us how to pray Our Father before going to bed once and that was pretty much it.  She never forced us to pray when going to sleep or before a family meal, nor when there is a religious activity in the house like during Holy week or when she has to host a prayer session for family members who has departed. And so, we did not.

When we were small kids, naturally, she had no choice but to take us to church with her if she happens to go. Back then,there was only one church you can go. That one houses the famous Bamboo Organ. I remember whenever she would bring us there, we would go into one nook of the church near the main entrance. We would drop coins in a metal box, which my sister and I enjoy so muc, and she would allow me and my sister to each light a candle.  I was probably no more than 6 at that time. After we have lit the candle, she would carry my sister and I in her arms and we would go up the dais where a life size idol of Jesus Christ lay "sleeping" inside a glass case.  Behind the glass case up on the wall was another idol of Jesus crucified on a cross.  My mother would teach us to touch Jesus feet which we can easily reach while we were in her arms, and make the sign of the cross. I remember my sister reaching up and did the sign of the cross as was instructed. She is two years younger than I am. As for me, I can not remember ever touching the Idol. In fact, what I remember is cringing away from it.  How can I not? Whoever carved the idol made it so life like with blood oozing from the wound on the feet where it was nailed on the cross. My mother would just laugh.

Growing up, I can not remember going to church every Sunday. As far as I know, I only go to church whenever there is a funeral, wedding, baptism, and when my father go on a pilgrimage to Antipolo church once a year. Pretty much, I follow my fathers religious practice as far as going to church is concerned, but I would drop the pilgrimage as well when I started working.  Christmas was different.  I was excited to go to Simbang Gabi during Christmas season, at least when I was still a kid.  Starting 16th of December, a mass is held everyday during the wee hours of the morning, around 5 or 6, when it was still quite dark, thus the term "Gabi", meaning "night."  It was believed that if you are able to complete the Simbang Gabi, your prayers will come true.  I never did.  I think three days was the best I can do.  It was Holiday, no more school. I rather watch TV late at night and wake up late in the morning.

As I grew up and my religious perspective changes, I pretty much never go to church, again, except on funerals, baptisms, and weddings.  Choosing high school, I had two options, business high, or Catholic school. Obviously, I chose the former to avoid going to church on a regular occasion.  But what i can not escape was religion subject from grade school to high school. But it did not really made a dent on my religious belief.

Do I detest being a Catholic? Quite the opposite. Being a Catholic offers me freedom I probably would not have had I belonged to another religion, say Islam or the INC where the practice is much stricter.