But a Jape

“So what’s with the creepy dead guy on your wall?”

– Child Me, asking about the crucifixes at another Catholic family’s house

Sometimes I’ll explain to people that, growing up, my family was ostensibly Catholic, but we never did anything that would identify us as Catholic other than telling people we were if they asked. I would explain that we never went to church or anything like that, but people would respond, “Ha ha, yeah, that’s us Catholics for you!” But like, these were people who did still go to church once in a while. They knew about certain traditions and activities and, like, what you actually do at church. My family quite literally never went to church. Nor did anyone ever tell me what our alleged faith was supposed to entail.

To me, the Bible was just a book of old stories; I had no idea what a priest actually did or that the Pope was someone at all relevant to us – I just thought he was some fancy king of some people I’ve never met. I never even realized Jesus was supposed to be someone we had to care about! I was vaguely aware of him as, like, a character, but in the same way I was aware of George Washington or Superman. I knew Jesus was this really cool, nice guy who has some stories about how cool and nice he was – and maybe you should try to be more like him – but nobody ever told me I was supposed to take him so seriously!

I can point out the exact moment in my life I stopped identifying as a Catholic or a Christian at all. One of my friends was talking about his faith and how someone had asked him if he was a religious Christian. My friend seemed legitimately unsure and he said, “I mean, I guess I believe Jesus is our Lord and Savior and all that…” and that statement immediately made me realize, “Oh right, Christians are supposed to believe that aren’t they? I guess I’m not a Christian then…”

– James