Random mememe:
Ugh. I'm 99.4% certain I'm breaking up with my parish. Today's 9:30 homily was pretty much It. The priest (one of the new ones brought in over the last 6 years since Cesar Chavez's spiritual advisor died and his best friend was forced into retirement and the young gay radical priest had to take a medical leave after three heart attacks in his 40s from stress) started reasonably well with a few sentences on forgiving those who've done us great evil, and how there is a special grace in that, and JPII meeting with the man who tried to assassinate him, and it seemed more or less okay. And then he went off about how we need to recognize that we as a society are guilty of not just great evil, but of embracing great evil and calling it good. The next three sentences were the last things I heard before the rage-out descended: "We reward laziness and call it welfare. We kill our unborn and call it freedom of choice. We pollute our air with profanity and pornography and call it freedom of expression."
The reminder that as a pro-choice, post-abortion woman I'm unwelcome pretty well sucked but was as per usual of late; it wasn't even the thing that pissed me off most. I'm still, hours later, STILL gobsmacked over the un-Catholic, un-Christian, uncharitable ignorant cruel nastiness of the welfare crack (does he know one fucking thing about how public assistance works in this country? Does he know how many of his parishioners are on some form of public assistance, or would cry with gratitude at how much easier their lives would be if they even qualified for it?) and the sheer blithering inanity of the remark about bad words and porn. The economy in shambles, the longest war in US history dragging on with no end in sight and with badly damaged veterans treated shamefully, unstoppable environmental disaster about to crush the region Katrina brought to its knees (and whose perpetrators will likely never be brought to more than token justice), and, oh, yes, the continuing pedophilia coverup clusterfuck, and THIS is what he wastes precious time and energy ranting at us about?
Useless. Useless. Small. Shabby. Vile.
And when I got home after this long, long day, the first thing I found on the computer was a despairing stick-a-fork-in-me-I'm-done email from a friend at this same parish.
There's a Newman Center parish near our apartment that's committed to inclusive language and secretly/openly fighting for women's ordination. When Matilda and I go there I don't feel enraged and queasy and despairing. It's kind of refreshing.