“Bad Catholic”

Sometimes I feel like a bad Catholic. Sometimes I don’t. But either way, I always delight in both Almond Joy and Mounds. I feel pretty sure that God put chocolate on this earth for me to eat without discrimination.

I haven’t really blogged much about my religion, other than to talk about why we chose Catholic school for our children, my son’s ongoing battle with church etiquette, and the time I witnessed my kids taking liberties with the sacrament of First Communion. Even then, I didn’t delve into my own deep-seeded beliefs…because they are MY beliefs. I don’t feel a driving desire to always tell others how I live out my faith, and I find spiritual life to be an intensely personal thing. I guess you could say I subscribe to old “they will know we are Christians by our love” motto, and hope that more often than not, my actions speak louder than my words.

But therein lies the reason I often feel like a bad Catholic. My silence.

I often shy away from being a loud and proud representative of my faith. I think maybe that stems from a concern that I am not the best woman for the job. I don’t believe in cookie-cutter religion. I don’t see doctrine as necessarily hard and fast rules, but as guidelines. For me, my relationship with the Catholic Church is akin to that of a child and a parent: I love and respect the upbringing I was given, but I don’t always do what I’m told. And eventually, I must learn to think and make decisions for myself. Sometimes,  I am in agreement. Sometimes I am not. But either way, we always remain family. I feel pretty sure that God put family on this earth to be loved without discrimination.

I feel fine about my relationship with the Church. Usually. Until I feel bad about it.

Recently, a small group of friends and I attended a presentation that was part of a speaker series aimed at Catholic mothers. The goal of the series is to help women discover ways in which they can live their faith more fully in the context of the modern world of parenting. The speaker was a local bishop who was witty, engaging, and delivered a message I was totally on board with: our daily, mundane lives are in fact a form of prayer if we are simply mindful and offer all we do to God. In that case, I can be hella prayerful. I mean, if doing laundry counts as prayer, I’m practically a cloistered nun.

So I was feeling pretty good about my spiritual life. And then he opened the floor to questions, the first of which reminded me why I sometimes feel uncomfortable in the very place I should feel at home. A woman, very impassioned, pleaded with the bishop about how WE (and WE were obviously all on the same page in her mind, since we had all voluntarily attended this presentation) could make others realize that living the Catholic faith according to doctrine should be a priority…and by “others,” she clarified that she meant specifically “failing Catholics” (my term, not hers). The ones who don’t go to mass every weekend. The ones who don’t pray the rosary. The ones who don’t take to heart each and every single teaching of the Church. At some point in her comment, she rationalized, “I know I’m preaching to the choir here.”

But what she didn’t know was that, while I chose to attend a presentation to help me build my faith, while I send my children to Catholic school, while I will be a faithful Catholic until the day I die, I was NOT the choir. In fact, I was the exact person she was lambasting. I was a bad Catholic. And I was listening to her ask what she could do about the problem of me. Me and my lack of unwavering faith and obedience.

I will admit I don’t have the most steadfast of faiths, but I can appreciate that some people, like this woman, do. I am in a constant state of flux concerning my beliefs. I don’t feel certain about anything, not even the existence of God, let alone doctrines created by fallible creatures. Yet I’m starting to believe there is nothing wrong with doubt. To be absolutely sure about anything dealing with God is almost in itself a lie, for we can never know God fully on this earth by the very nature that we are human. However, my heart and my mind seem to pretty consistently agree on one thing: God or no God, Catholic or not Catholic, religion or no religion, the basic ideas of love, forgiveness, and tolerance are what I should always be striving for, regardless of the means through which I show them.

So far be it from me to try to convince someone else there is a certain and right way to honor God. I can’t even feel confident in my owns ways of doing so. Yet this woman felt very sure she knew what would put me on the straight and narrow path, and she was legitimately confused about why I, and people like me, were so hesitant to listen to her. I thought to myself:

Maybe it is because we know what we are is already not good enough for you.

If I ever felt for one second that God, or Jesus, or my pastor, or my Church community was not willing to meet me where I am and accept the path of my own personal faith journey, I would be out the door without so much as a pinky finger in the holy water font. I am very thankful that is not the case. I appreciate that my experience has been filled with role models and spiritual leaders, from parish priests to the bishop I listened to that night to Pope Francis, who emphasize the greater love of Christianity over the more divisive gray areas.

But I am still a bad Catholic…because I stayed silent. Normally I feel that maybe I should be a better representative of my religion by evangelizing my faith more. But on that night, I think I could have been a better Catholic if I had stuck up for those of us who didn’t feel a part of that choir. I have a feeling there are a lot of us.

What I should have said in response to that woman was: We may not hold all the holy days of obligation sacred. We may not agree with the Church’s stance on gay marriage. We may still accidentally say “and also with you” instead of “and with your spirit” because we don’t go to church as often as we should (non-Catholics, it’s a long story). We may not know which saint to pray to when we take a chance on a new hairstyle (by the way, it’s St. Martin de Porres, patron of barbers. Thanks, Google!). And we may sometimes doubt there even is a God. But we try to live in a way that honors the fundamental teachings of Jesus, even if we stumble from time to time. And our praying may look a lot more like picking up dog poop in the backyard than genuflecting with folded hands. We aren’t bad people. We aren’t bad Catholics. And we’re still a part of your family.

And no, Dad doesn’t like you best.

church lady
I sense I’ve angered her.

I wanted to acknowledge a few fantastic posts on a similar subject that have led to or help reinforced many of the reflections in this piece: “Tell Me If You Think I’m Going to Hell” by The Boeskool and “Crisis of Faith” by My Ahas. I also want to give a shout-out to my former colleague and friend, John, who is a social justice teacher extraordinaire and often prompts me to have meaningful thoughts about God and stuff. John blogs about things religious, musical, and religiously musical at brokenfishblog.

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48 thoughts on ““Bad Catholic”

    1. Thank you for your compliment. But that’s the thing. I honestly really do think there are more like me. And I honestly think most of us are. I’ve grown up in Catholic communities all my life, and on the whole, my experience has been one of people supporting their fellow faith travelers, however “devout” they might be. I think for too long we have let people like this woman be our spokespeople, which gives an inaccurate view of modern day Catholicism. Or maybe, because people like me keep our religion to ourselves, the only ones being heard are the loudest, and they are usually the loudest because they feel a duty to make their views known. And I don’t think that only applies to religion, but also Democrats and Republicans, Pro-Choices and Pro-Lifers, and anything that can cause polarization. My experience with people is that most live lives of moderation filled with uncertainty, changing their minds about things as they go. And because we never feel certain about things, we don’t speak up.

      I just feel like I rambled a whole lot of nonsense. Maybe that’s why people like me don’t speak up 🙂


  1. I have the experience you speak of all the time–I should have said something but I was scared. Wonderfully written, and thank you for the shout-out on my blog, Kelly. Besides finding like-minded people in one’s Roman Catholic parish, there are many people who attend alternative Catholic communities (Sts. Clare and Francis is one at http://www.stsclareandfrancis.org/) and/or belong to national Church reform organizations like Call to Action (www.cta-usa.org) and Catholic Action Network for Social Justice (www.catholicactionnetwork.org) here in St. Louis. Pope Francis gives many people hope for a more inclusive and more social justice oriented Church.


    1. John, for some reason I am just NOW seeing this comment. I think WordPress held it in some approval queue since you had posted a link in there (to make sure it wasn’t spam…ha!) I love hearing that you have felt this way as well, especially as someone who I view as a wonderful example of living his faith and social justice beliefs. And I love that you point out that people can find their own “clan” within the Church. We aren’t all carbon copies of each other. Thanks for the comment…and as always, being the awesome person you are!


  2. Really, it isn’t “and also with you” anymore? I need to look this up.

    Great post. I haven’t been to church in years (obviously) but this was part of the issue for me. The collective “we”. I feel conflicted sometimes that I haven’t given it another chance when I see what Pope Francis is trying set as the example, but I know that won’t trickle down into my communities anytime soon. I am still undecided about God or god, but I do miss the peace and traditions of Mass from time to time.


    1. I feel you. I used to really worry about doubting the existence of God. But now I have come to see that the question of it leads me to keep exploring and growing. And I remember a quote I once heard that made sense to me: “I’d rather live my life believing there was a God, then find there’s not, than live my life like there’s no God, then find out there is.” And yes, there is a peace in the tradition and creed, for sure. For me, the biggest reason I still love being Catholic IS the community. Maybe I’ve just been lucky. And you know, at one point in the discussion at the presentation, when this woman was expressing dissatisfaction over “how Catholic” her congregation was, the bishop made a statement that really resonated: “If you don’t feel at home in your congregation, find a new one. Because they aren’t all the same.” And I think that is very true. There are Catholic congregations across the spectrum, and even sub-communities within congregations. Sometimes it is more work to find your place. But I have also learned that if I open myself up a little more, and turn off my own quick judgments, I’m sometimes surprised at what I find.


  3. I struggle with not being vocal enough sometimes too because it’s just so personal. I’ve only been a Christian for 2 years and I remember what it felt like to be in the out crowd, to be “them” and to even be told that I was going to hell. My view of a loving God didn’t line up with what came out of the mouths of many Christians so that’s probably why I try to let my deeds speak for my faith. Questioning, knowing that you don’t know everything and still believing – that to me is humility before God.


  4. I steer away from talking about politics about 99+% of the time b/c it rarely goes anywhere good. I thread my spiritual beliefs through a lot of my writing, but rarely just go for it, mostly b/c it’s just suuuuuch an individual thing and while I feel extremely fortunate to fully know what I believe and never waiver on existence of God … I totally understand and embrace that the nuances of it all varies to such degrees with people that it becomes hard to discuss it outside of close relationships. I think there are so many people exactly like you and I hope you don’t let the fact that you have questions or uncertainty about this or that ever keep you from talking about it or feeling worthy, etc. I wish I’d been at that thing and could have let o’girl we don’t care for people who speak on behalf of everyone … I might’ve even elbowed her for good measure … for you. You’re welcome. Good post, my friend! Beers one day … write it down.


  5. I’m not such a fan of organized religion. Everyone should be free to practice in ways they see fit up to the point where they try to push it on others.

    And as far as not speaking at the meeting, you spoke up here. that’s not nothing.


    1. Thanks. I do think there are definitely benefits to organized religion. As I mentioned, doctrine provides guidelines for me, especially about things I may not have considered otherwise. There is a centered-ness that comes with the ritual, and sharing that ritual with a community can be very powerful. But obviously, it’s not for everyone, and that’s okay.


  6. I enjoyed this post so much. And I remember fondly our involvement with the Newman Center during college. There was a priest there, Fr. Bill. The last face-to-face confession I ever had was with him. I was a senior in college — closing out four years of “bad Catholic” craziness. You probably remember some of that. As I stepped into the room with him, I said, “Settle in, Padre. I’ve got four years to unload on you.” He smiled and we chatted. At the end, he smiled at me again, gave me a few words of wisdom, and reminded me that Jesus provides forgiveness — not the priest, but Jesus. And instead of assigning me a Hail Mary and ten Our Fathers, he told me to simply step outside, take a deep breath, and smile, knowing I was forgiven. It was an amazing step on my journey. After that, I started to focus my study of faith on Jesus (not religion) and His “fundamental teachings” that you addressed. That was life-changing. Jesus tells us us to love and forgive and accept others. He told us also to be servants and not to judge others. Those ideas run contrary to our society, but when I began to adopt and practice these things, my life continued to change. But I realized Jesus also says another thing, and that is: “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” It took some time, in prayer and much thought, but I decided to give it go and be all in. And that’s been even more transformational. For me, that looks like this: “I really want to hate that person. And I have every Earthly right to hate that person. But the Jesus I’ve given my life to, loves that person unconditionally. And I have to as well.” So I do my best to follow Jesus and His example. (If often fail miserably, but I’m still a work in progress). It’s certainly not the easiest step I’ve taken in my life, but, for me, it’s been the most rewarding and life-changing. Thanks for your great writing and for letting me share a little story.


    1. Eric, thanks so much for your thoughtful comment…which was very well said, by the way. And I think you illustrated one of my points perfectly. I think there are people out there who mistake being a “good Catholic” with ceremony side of things. But when you look at what our religious leaders are really telling us and showing us, it’s about something larger. Fr. Bill was excellent in that way.

      And I will stay quite about your “straying” in college 🙂


  7. Obviously you are not alone. Thanks for speaking out for all of us who don’t have it all figured out 😀 I’m finding that the faith community I’ve always been a part of–the community that I’m sometimes fearful of disappointing (because they SEEM to have it all figured out)–doesn’t have to be my only community. I’m thankful for it and for all the blessings that have come along with it, but I’m also open to expanding my horizons, so to speak.


    1. Well, you already did a wonderful job of speaking out for yourself. And you are right…we can have many communities. I think it is unrealistic to expect one community to provide EVERYTHING for you.


  8. Interesting. I was just thinking in a similar line of logic and contemplation last night. Raised in a Methodist community that was filled with love and fellowship that essentially adopted me into their collective families left me feeling spoiled. Moving outside of that comfortable, loving cocoon wasn’t hard at first until I came face to face with the hypocrisies and sheer anger of the humans in the world who also identified themselves as Methodist. At the time, I was crushed. In hindsight, I see now that it was really just a matter of what I said – they were humans. And as you said – humans are fallible. Unfortunately, the younger, emotional version of me had a hard time grappling with some of the ugliness I witnessed and as a result I disassociated myself. This struggle isn’t limited to Christianity. My years of meandering and exploring the path to best express my spirituality has led me to find the same behaviors across the board. Most recently I was practically moved to tears by a self righteous Buddhist. Seems counter-intuitive, doesn’t it? And you know how I don’t like to cry! Someday I hope to find a community again that I can call home, but until then, it is clear to me that the most important thing is always to look into one’s own heart to discover what love and faith means and to be unwavering to the true self. God/Buddha/Allah/Gaia/Krishna/Zeus will always be there for you.


  9. i have been profoundly moved by your post and the incredible responses that have followed. my Mother was raised in the Methodist Church, my father in the Catholic Church. Because I go back to the days before Vatican II, I remember when you were not going to heaven if you weren’t a Catholic (Oh yes, that was the teaching). I was in 2nd grade when Sister Mary Whoever told us that, and I took great exception, standing up in class and telling her I didn’t believe it for 1 minute. Of course, she called my Mother, the former Methodist (Mom became a Catholic when I was 6). Mom firmly told Sister that of course I was right to be upset, fully 1/2 of my family were not Catholic (Yeah Mom). I knew that my Grandmother (who I adored), my Aunt and Uncle, my cousins and the rest of my family were good, even holy. And Mom supported my belief that they were destined for heaven. I think I believed that any heaven that would not welcome my entire family was not the place for me. To this day, I believe that. That is why I believe that no matter what our faith, or lack of it, there is a place for us if we are good to others, love them truly, and see the good around us. I think that our community is all around us, sometimes in the pews and sometimes at the soccer field. I know that I don’t agree with everything the Church teaches, but I think that there is still much good in its teachings. I just hope that my life is honorable, loving and caring and that I have done some good in this world. You all have said it so much more elegantly, and I thank you for sharing your feelings and beliefs. And when I die, I know I will see both of my grandmothers as well as my Methodist Uncle and Catholic Aunt. None of them were perfect, but they lived such wonderful lives and made me feel blessed to have known them.


    1. I’m a little misty over this. Thank you for your words, Kathy…which were just as heartfelt and beautiful as any. And I feel pretty certain that you’ll be in my Heaven…if I make it there, that is 🙂


  10. This is a really beautiful post and it seems to me that you are doing everything right. Forgive me if I insult because it is not my intention, I was brought up Methodist but wasn’t regular. Then studied religions in college, never stopped believing but lost any religion I had. Currently, as you’ve probably picked up from my posts, my religion has become yoga and it is so much more than physicality…it’s become my church. I believe that what you feel in your faith is almost identical to what I feel just by different means. The stricts observances and ceremonies may be meaningful to some, like the woman who spoke at your conference, but if it isn’t to you, that does not take away from your faith. Each person has a different means to achieve the same connection with their God, Oneness, Universe, Self…whatever they call it. You sound very in touch and that is admirable.


    1. No insult taken. In fact, you exemplified a lot of what I’m talking about. I can’t tell you the right way to honor God, because that’s different for everyone. If yoga has been the means through which you have connected to something larger than yourself, then that’s your path. And if others feel closer to God following every tenet of a religion, then that’s theirs. Neither is wrong. What IS wrong is making others feel their path is less righteous;

      Thanks for such a thoughtful comment.


  11. Sometimes I get stressed out when a post is so spot on with how I feel and I want to chat you up about it and commiserate but am too tired (lazy) to get into it in the comments section, and that is what I have going on now. Man, this is good stuff. Sometimes the extremists are so vocal that they make the faith community they represent look like crazy people. Maybe the best thing you (I, we) can do is believe what we believe, is to be a “Bad” Catholic (Methodist in my case) just to demonstrate to others who all is on the spectrum. We can strive to be better everyday, reference church/Jesus/God when it comes up naturally in blogging/talking but without manufacturing reasons to broach artificially. I gotta stop. I’ll be here all night. I wish we were coworkers or something so we had more time. great post


    1. Oh no! Don’t get stressed! But I feel the same way about you. I think we’d have some great conversations in real life 🙂 And I love your point about referencing our faith when it is natural. That seems to work well for me.


  12. It’s interesting to me that I’ve been running into Catholics left and right lately… not to make light of this. One of the women in my writing group is working on a memoir about converting to Catholicism at age 40 (she’s in her 60s now), and she is dealing with some very harsh judgment from the Catholic church she attends, after years of being very involved in the church. Her new husband will not annul his 25+ year previous marriage, so the church considers this marriage a sin. They met when both of them were single and divorced. So, there’s been a lot of conversation about Catholicism and faith. Such complexity. Good post, Kelly. Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this challenging subject.


    1. It is hard sometimes, that’s for sure. And it is especially tough when something we want or believe is at odds with what our faith community teaches. I have wish-washy thoughts on these things as well. On one hand, I look at certain things, and think the Church should rethink or update their stance. On another hand, the Church shouldn’t always be expected to change its tenets to fit popular thought. If you want to be Catholic, live by the rules as best you can. If you really have serious issue with them, find someplace that mirrors your own beliefs. It’s also important to note that not all communities within the same faith are even the same. Ugh. It’s a complicated situation, and probably why I rarely talk about it.

      And we Catholics….we’re EVERYWHERE! Mwuhahahahaha 😉


      1. ^^ Your reply is EXACTLY how I feel…… “On one hand, I look at certain things, and think the Church should rethink or update their stance. On another hand, the Church shouldn’t always be expected to change its tenets to fit popular thought.” I LOVE being Catholic (most of the time) and I agree with so much of what they say – probably because I was raised Catholic and don’t know any other religion, but then some of the stuff and some of the people just make me think I am not a good Catholic either (especially some catholic blogs were they make you feel like you have to have at least 12 kids to really be a good catholic…)…. but I really thought that was one of our “things”….. feeling guilty about everything… 🙂
        And I can’t help but notice…. this post followed a Keg Party post….see you ARE a good catholic!! HA!


        1. HA!!! Very observant of you 🙂 I did think about that when I was posting this…that I had just written a post about the debauchery of my children’s toys. And Yes….that guilt. Totally a Catholic thing.


  13. I’m one of “those” Catholics sitting right beside you. Every single piece of what you wrote, I was screaming “yes!”. I was raised catholic, private school the whole thing, but I feel as you do. I have doubts, I have questions and I often feel like religion should be a guideline and not the absolute. “for we can never know God fully on this earth by the very nature that we are human. ” – AND THIS. Wow. It was like a light bulb turned on when I read this. Great post, Kelly!

    Oh and to prove that I am a bad Catholic, I had no idea you don’t “and also with you” anymore. Oops.


    1. Well, you’re not alone. But yeah…the Church changed a bunch of the wording in the mass a few years ago. I do okay with the “and with your spirit” thing, but there are other phrases, especially in the Creed, that still feel very unnatural to me.

      I’m so happy this has resonated with so many people. I think so many of us get so wrapped up in the struggle that we forget that it’s okay to just be fallible humans who try to know God and try to be better. Mostly, I think the world would be better if we were all just good people…we might also find if we accepted others for the good people they were as well, religion might be a little easier.


  14. I strongly believe that no one gets to pass judgement… especially about something as personal as faith! If your faith community does that routinely, maybe it’s time for a different group of (nicer) people? I applaud the Catholics that try and succeed at following all of the rules– my sister and her family are impressively devout– but there is beauty in the trying, and a certain amount of decent thoughtfulness in questioning (and NOT following) some of them.

    You are obviously a Good Person, with great Faith. Go ahead and be loud about it!



    1. “beauty in the trying” …I love that phrase and think that is what most religion is about. Thanks for your kind words. I do feel lucky that overall, I am really happy in my own faith community. And I have to remind myself that when I do encounter people who seem to judge me, I don’t have to feel bad about myself. Because I know my own truth.

      Thanks for your comment!


  15. What an awesome post. Obviously, you have touched some hearts!
    I guess I have to admit being old enough to have worked through for myself some of the same issues your readers are considering. I have learned through some rather tough lessons (I call it beating my head against the wall) that my God really does love and has my back especially when I blow it. My God isn’t there to put me down (there are enough people in the world to do that) but to lift me up, get me started in the right direction again.
    I have found there are a lot of people to make me feel guilty. But I have figured out if I give them that power, I am being foolish. I just have to take a look at my day to find material for real guilt and work on that. And my God helps me get started again -tomorrow and tomorrow!
    If there are a few rules to follow, I have found out that I am happier and more content if I follow them. If there are some things, I don’t like, its usually because I don’t understand. I just need to do my homework, learn some life lessons and believe God has my best interest at heart! It is great to have the security that everything is all right!
    As for the lady at the conference, I can only think that she was so excited to have found something that makes her feel secure and confident that she wanted everyone to find the same faith.
    Keep at it, keep asking questions. The answers aren’t that far away, only as far away as God and He is right with you.


  16. I am “one of those Catholics” too, and I would have been sitting right next to you – keeping my mouth shut. I am a lifer – Catholic school through college and now my kids go to Catholic school.
    You have said everything so well, so much better than I could ever hope to put it down in words. One way I have tried to describe being Catholic to my non-Catholic friends, has to do with driving. We all know it is against the law to drive over the speed limit, right? But how often do we do it? I understand the rules of the Catholic Church, but I guess I choose to look at them as strong suggestions, and not so much as the mortal sins that Sr. So and So told me I was going to hell for in second grade. It has taken me a while to become OK with this and it is refreshing and comforting to know I am not alone.


  17. You have clearly touched a nerve with this post. I read it a few days ago but waited to respond until i had the time to do more than dash off a quick remark. I was raised a Catholic, and the Catholicism goes all the way back to Ireland.I believe the Mass is beautiful as are many of the practices and rituals: the rosary, the divine office, advent and lenten reflections. I sent my own children to Catholic schools. But the older I have gotten I find I cannot in good conscience be a Catholic, a fact that would astonish and perhaps get me ejected from my bunco group. Like all humans I yearn for a set of organizing and comforting principles by which to live, and a community in which to share these beliefs. I accommodated and flexed myself around the rigidity of the church until I finally had to give up. Remember when you fault yourself for not speaking up that the church is not generally open to dissenting voices. Thanks for letting me ramble.


    1. Thanks for rambling! It is quite eloquent. First, I love that whole concept of waiting to respond. I think the internet would do well to subscribe to that 🙂 And an Irish Catholic is a woman after my own heart…which is where a good chunk of my Catholic roots started as well. You bring a great point about yearning to have a set of organizing beliefs. It helps me feel grounded to have this. As of now, I don’t know that I could find one of those that would completely mirror my own, especially since I feel like I waver on things a lot. Thankfully, I feel “close enough” in tune with the faith I was brought up in. Maybe that will change one day, maybe not. And as far as the church not being open to dissenting voices…they can be a stubborn bunch, can’t they? I mentioned to a few others I struggle with this as well, whether it is fair of me to ask the church to bend to my whims instead of the other way around. Again, not a clear cut answer. I would however tend to be of the opinion that the church is OPEN to dissenting voices, they just don’t bend to them. Ever 🙂

      I love all the responses I have gotten here. So many thoughtful and respectful opinions that have made me feel less alone in my faith journey. But overall, I think I need to go back to blogging about minivans.


      1. Well if you ever wanted to return to the topic you can see by the responses that many folks struggle in this area. By the way if you ever have trouble falling asleep, and I mean this in every reverent sense, try the Rosary. It’s very soothing!


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