MARY

I went to church this morning hoping that going there would help me sort through all this war stuff. After all, the Pope has spoken out strongly against the war and I was hoping this attitude would trickle down to the parish level. Today's readings and sermon (I was paying close attention for once) was all about the Ten Commandments, which I thought was a perfect context to discuss the war and how Catholics and Christians should react. Instead, not one word was said about the war till it came time to offer prayers for the soldiers, their families, and civilians.

I wanted the deacon or the priest to come out against the president, not Michael Moore style, but to reiterate what the Pope has said. I don't always want to hear about politics in church, but with all of the reports about our soldiers being killed, executed, taken prisoner, killed by friendly fire, or MIA, I thought that a word about non-violence would've been more than appropriate. I felt like the priest and deacon wimped out, afraid to be branded unpatriotic by opposing the use of force.

So what are Christians to do or think during times of war? I'm all for wars to end oppression, holocaust, or ethnic cleansing. I also have the utmost respect and admiration for anyone in the military. The last thing I want is for someone to think that I'm in some way ungrateful. But how do you respect the Church's ideal of sanctifying life when your country has instigated what will result in the loss of hundreds lives?

I guess I just hope that the people in power will somehow hear what the Pope is saying. If nothing else, people will hopefully follow his lead and pray for peace.

CLAIRE

I'd just like to say that other than the run-in with the Girl Scout cookie (which didn't count since I spit it out), this has been a perfect Lent for me. Yesterday I was even sitting next to a box of Oreos and did not succumb. I might buy some Cadbury Creme Eggs just to stock up, since they only run during Lent in order to tempt us (Cadbury is run by the devil), but so far I'm golden. This really might be the first time I've ever followed through on something like this.

Anyway, regarding the war, I agree with you completely. War is bad, but there are times, like World War II, where war is better than complacency.

But what is a Catholic to think?

A few months ago, when this war was just a twinkle in our president's eye, I was at church and read the "Pro-Life/Respect Life" section in our church bulletin, because I like to get worked up over it. This time, though, the column was about how being Pro-Life did not just cover abortion or euthanasia. Being pro-life means respecting all ages and all forms of life. If you are truly Pro-Life as a Christian, then you should oppose the killing that goes on in war.

I suppose in a perfect world a Christian could support a war where no killing occurs, but when does that happen? Or, if, say, in the case of the Holocaust, a war occurs to prevent greater evil, then that's sort of a lesser of two evils choice.

Mary, I don't know, in the end. But I do think that most Christians are like most Americans; whatever their politics, they want this thing to end quickly and with a minimum of blood. That's respecting life. I know it's a departure from the war talk, but I'm reading this really cool book right now about a 1989 murder case at the Vatican. The mystery itself is a good one but you really can't beat the setting. I mean, the Vatican is without a doubt one of the most beautiful, mysterious and even frightening places in the world. It's seen the Sack of Rome, assassinations, affairs, Michelangelo and supposedly even St. Peter himself is buried under all that. Have you ever been to the Vatican, Mary? What were your thoughts?

MARY

You had to go and mention chocolate again, didn't you? Good idea though, to stock up on the Cadburys. My other favorite eggs this time of year include the Snickers egg, the Milky Way egg, and the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup egg, or rather, round mound. But I digress.

It has been one of my lifelong goals to go to the Vatican. You know, Spain was nice, architecturally, artistically, and religiously, but I don't think it can touch the Vatican. The Prado has nothing on the Sistine Chapel...or so I've heard. I wish I had gone to a college that offered classes on papal history, or the history of some of the saints, because all of that history is so incredible and exciting. If I were an expatriate, I would love to be one in Rome. I've heard from people who have traveled there, and lots of them say that the city itself is kind of dirty and unimpressive, but I don't know whether to buy that or not. Tell me about the Rome you know.

Now on to something I've been thinking about today.

Our local paper is doing this funny little series of letting high school kids write editorials. In today's paper they had an article written by this little high school freshman guy. The topic of his editorial had to do with religion and how as kids grow up, they start making their own decisions about it, independent of their parents. It was funny because as a college freshman, I interviewed college kids about the same thing--whether their faith grew after high school or stalled without their parents to make them go to church. This kid wrote about his very recent conversion from Christianity to Wicca, at the urging of his girlfriend. My first reaction was: Oh, so this is the kind of kids who Christ Kattan and Molly Shannon used as inspiration for Goth Talk, an SNL skit I sorely miss. He invited peers and readers to write him back, and to try to convert him back to Christianity, an effort, I imagine, to spark some dialogue and controversy.

This got me thinking, though. My first thought is that as soon as he realizes being Wiccan isn't cool anymore or he breaks up with his girlfriend, he'll probably go back to being Christian. Or at least pick another, more mainstream, religion. Hopefully I'm wrong and his convictions are real. But this reminded me of my own struggles over the decision (though not made formally yet) to be and stay Catholic. What kid hasn't struggled over their commitment to a religion? I've always been afraid that vocally calling myself Catholic or Christian meant that I was putting a giant label on myself, that it meant people would look at my religious affiliation and start making assumptions.

I've only recently decided that telling people my religious affiliation doesn't always prompt judgment. And why should I care who judges me anyway, right? It's not anyone else's job but mine and God's. Part of my reasons for writing this column has been to "out" myself as a Catholic, and prove that I'm not ashamed of it. I don't know what's taken me so long, truthfully.

So am I the lone closet-case Catholic? Did you have this conversation with yourself too?

CLAIRE

The Vatican really is unexplainable. I've been there three times and it's blown my mind every time. Even if you are an atheist, you're bound to be awestruck by the physical achievement of man's dedication to God. The first time I went was with a study trip in high school. My Latin teacher, who had spent years in Rome, burst into tears when we entered St. Peter's Basilica (and she's Jewish, which is to say that it wasn't her dedication to Christ that moved her.) Everything is on an unbelievably grand scale, and in the Basilica, during the day, light streams in through the windows of the dome like a halo (remind me to show you the photo sometime.) It's also the intangibles that are impressive. Last time I was there, our group was taken on a special tour of the original ancient Roman foundation of the church, which was special to see, but as I'm reading this book on the Vatican, I realize that what most people see is a small percentage of the other reliquaries, chapels and apartments of the Vatican.

The only somewhat negative experience I had was at confession. They have confessional booths lined up on the sides of the Basilica in all languages, so I found an English one and popped in. I was divulging some pretty in-depth stuff, figuring that I would find solace at the center of the church, but unfortunately the priest's English wasn't really that great. Ah well. Oh, and the Sistine Chapel? You know how you go see a famous work of art, like the Mona Lisa, and it's smaller or darker or not as impressive as you'd expect? It's not like that with the Sistine Chapel.

Anyway, on to your discussion. I've never felt much apprehension in divulging my religion. I don't mean to sound too self-confident but I guess I always figured that if people have a certain image of Catholics that doesn't fit me, then I'll show them that Catholics aren't always easily pigeonholed.

I think that becoming an independent spiritual person is both a beautiful and also scary, confusing, even painful thing. When I began to consider it on my own, the doubts and questions plagued me, and I longed for the days where I just believed what I was told. That's not to say that to this day I don't have doubts and questions, but more and more I realize that that's normal and natural. But like discovering your personality, your intelligence or your sexuality, realizing what you believe on your own and what makes sense to you and what fills you with joy spiritually can be a deeply satisfying and wonderful thing.

MARY

Wow. Now I really want to go to Rome. I remember that when I saw those huge cathedrals in Seville and Segovia in Spain, it was good for restoring my faith. I figured that if people spent so long (it takes hundreds of years to finish a cathedral) to build something for God, something huge must have inspired them. The same goes for other religious art: Dali's Last Supper, El Greco's version of Christ on the cross. I don't know why it takes art to get me to think about religion sometimes. I think it's kind of like the difference between reading about the crucifixion and seeing a Passion play.

Your story about going to confession at the Vatican reminded me of something else I wanted to ask you: When was the last time you went to confession?

I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't been to confession since eighth grade. I went when I went to some Catholic youth conference, and they had priests hearing confessions. It's been ten years since I went. Isn't that terrible? I don't think they had confessions very often at my Newman center at Drake, and if they did, I don't think it was very often. And at my church at home, I think priest hears them maybe one hour a week. I think the thing that has kept me from going is that I've forgotten what all the rules are and what the process is. Do I have to say the Act of Contrition or the Apostle's Creed? Or both? I'm kind of shaky on the Creed, and I know that I don't remember the Act of Contrition. There's so much I don't remember about going. What kinds of sins are confessable? Do you only have to say which of the Ten Commandments you've broken? Do you have to give the priest a chronological list of all of your sins?

Our church has a few of the old style confessionals, that look like booths with curtains in front of them, but those aren't used anymore. Now there's just this other room just outside of the sanctuary. You know you can go in when somebody else comes out, and the priest turns this light on. I can't remember if it's your choice whether you can sit in front of the priest and talk directly to him, or you can stay on one side of a partition and talk to him through a screen, not face to face.

Most Catholics I know haven't been to confession in a long, long time. And if someone asked me, I don't know if I could explain the difference between going to confession and receiving absolution from a priest, or confessing to God on your own. And I'm not sure that going to confession would make me feel any better, once I've been forgiven, because I'd start feeling so bad once I started talking about my sins that even if I were forgiven I'd still feel guilty.

So when's the last time you went to confession? How does your church do it, and what makes confession different than other ways of forgiveness?

CLAIRE

Well, my father is going to kill me but I think that that time in Rome might have been the last time I went to confession. Although you know, I think that particular incident actually occurred in college, not high school but anyway. That's no excuse. There is a church right behind my apartment building. I guess I'm sort of afraid of leaving with more questions or with more shame than when I came in. Plus, one time I had confession with a priest from my family parish named Father Solazzo (hi Father!) and when I confessed to being mean to my brother, what have you, he said, "Well, Claire, I'm very disappointed in you." I was mortified. I thought the priest just counseled you and told you what to do. Ever since then I've done it from behind the screen, not face to face. I also don't remember the Act of Contrition but can make a pretty good stab at the Creed if I've got somebody to coax me along. But I think you can confess anything, really. Seriously: you could even confess murder (so do it! 'Fess up to that rainy night back in '78 in that alley in Mexico City.) I feel like I'm so behind, you know? But I'd say when you go (or when I go), you just say what's on your mind, because I think if you've forgiven yourself certain things, then God probably has too.

MARY

Have you ever been to any of the World Youth Days? I know a lot of people who went to the one in Denver several years ago, and people who went to the one in France and Montreal (was the last one Montreal?). I missed the age requirement for the one in Denver, but everyone who went there came back and was really changed and moved. I remember watching a bit of the activities on TV. A funny sidenote: I remember reading that to deal with so many thousands of people, organizers had to buy lots of port-a-potties. The funny thing was that they picked a brand called Vat-I-Cans. Also, you're Polish, right? Does your family eat those big wafer things, with Bible scenes etched on them? I know that they're Polish, and they pass them out in church around Christmas. I know that you're supposed to break off a piece, give it to somebody and kiss them or something. Do you do that?

CLAIRE

I've never been to a World Youth Day and don't really know much about it to comment. I've been on CYO ski trip, but that's about it. And yes, I am Polish, and yes, we do Oplatek, I think it's spelled, pronounced Opwotkee, at least in my family. Christmas Eve, when I have dinner with my mom, dad and brother, we each have a piece of wafer on our plate. We go around to each member of the family, break a piece off each other's pieces, eat it and wish each other luck and say how we love each other. At my Aunt's house, we just do it with the people sitting next to us, since there are too many. It's a nice tradition. Oh, and it goes without saying, we always give a piece to the dog.

MARY

Just a quick note about Catholic Christmas traditions. My family used to kind of take care of this really old lady, who was the wife of one of my mom's home-health patients. We used to have her over for dinner and holidays and stuff. She said that when she was little, they had to give up things for Advent (mmmm....chocolate Advent calendars) too, not just Lent. She said that if they got in trouble in school, or were naughty, they had to take a piece of hay from the nativity scene, and poke the fake baby Jesus in the manger with it. Talk about Catholic guilt!