Post by Senbecc on Apr 29, 2006 15:15:23 GMT -5
The Pagan with a Cross on her Door.... (to the left of the pentacle)
Author: Smog Kills
Just about every Sunday morning, I go through the same ritual:
I tend to my young son, make sure my husband and I have a decent enough breakfast, shower, dress, tuck a worn silver pentacle inside my shirt, and..... load the family in our car to go to Catholic Mass.
Growing up in a lukewarm evangelical home left me feeling spiritually empty. Being someone who is, by nature, a deeply spiritual person, at first I tried to fill the void inside me with what I knew. I volunteered to help sit for church day-care. I both attended and taught Sunday school all year and taught Vacation Bible School in the summer. I sang in the choir, performed solos, and got my mother and father to attend the additional Sunday and Wednesday evening services. But it still wasn't enough; something was missing, so I pushed even harder. I went door to door inviting people to our church and attended the Bible study at my middle school (two things that I secretly thought were pretty tacky). Most of all, I prayed to end my greatest shame. I prayed to truly feel the reality of a solid God and to find my path in life.
Finally God answered my prayer.
I met a Catholic friend at school and started to get interested in the Catholic Church. It all seemed so dark, mystical, deep, and holy. I’m sure it didn’t hurt that everything Catholic was a bit taboo in my house. Even though my family wasn’t deeply faithful, they still held that firmly rooted Protestant hatred of anything Catholic.
On my own time, I started checking out books from both my school and town libraries about the world's oldest Christian church. It was through them that I first discovered Mary as the Blessed Mother. She was someone I knew of from my evangelical church, but only in a passing sense. The Catholic faith actually gave the person of Mary substance. She had thoughts and feelings of her own. She was the tender virgin, loving mother, and wise old crone to all of us, as well as her son. After a few months of research, I worked up enough nerve to visit the Catholic church in town. It hit me as I walked in the doors. A lingering scent of incense clung to the fabric, a beautiful altar was laid out front and center, and off to the left was a painting of the Mother of God. Rows of candle offerings flickered in front of her, and I fell to my knees to thank her for letting me find this wonderful place.
It wasn't often, but when I could, I would slip off to the Catholic church and leave flower offerings in front of her image. I purchased a tiny likeness of her to keep on a dresser next to my bed. The more information I devoured about Mary, the more I found that she was compared to a Goddess, and that her son was the same being as her God. I also found that her image in the form of Our Lady of Guadalupe was a direct link from the old Mexican gods, and that there were links to her from the old Celtic gods as well. It all made sense and I started to look into all of the major world religions.
First through the internet, and later through books, I eventually found Wicca. Wicca was the first religion that made me feel like it could possibly be my path. (This is such a common statement from Pagans who have come from other religious backgrounds, but it is always so true!) I focused all of my spiritual energy on gaining a better understanding of Wicca and later, Paganism in general. Through high school and college, I treaded more heavily into the Pagan waters and drank of them deeply. I finally felt the call to initiate myself as a Witch during my first semester of college and started to practice simple magic. Not long after, I found my best friend and spiritual instructor within the Witchvox site. Through her, I had doors opened to me to the Pagan community outside of the internet.
Not long after this, I met a nice Catholic boy who would become my husband and started to rediscover my love of the Catholic church and parts of Christianity. I attended service with him from time to time and found great worth in a lot of the lessons taught. Together we started to delve more deeply into both faiths. He went from being someone who went to church out of habit, to a thinking spiritual soul. I started to see that Paganism isn't something of a black-and-white, us-versus-them nature. Paganism is a religion full of the colors and textures of centuries. My husband saw the Pagan aspects of his church and, while not being able to say he gives it all up entirely, gave into the fact that God can have more than one face, and that there is more than one road to the other side of this life.
It is pretty easy to feel like the typical ‘outsider’ when you have a faith structure like I do. At church I can feel people staring at my pretty open Pagan tattoo. At other times I can feel the unasked questions of other New Agers. I know that people look at Pagans like me and wonder how we can do it. They wonder how we justify attending a Christian church and kneeling before a Pagan altar, sometimes on the same day. I can't answer for anyone else, and I can’t say that my husband and I have all of our religious problems worked out yet, but my personal reasons are simple enough. I can see the Goddess in Mary and the God in her son. I find value in a great deal of the church's teachings on love, hope and charity. I enter a church service much like I enter a classroom. I don’t have to believe everything that I am told, but it makes me a more well-rounded person if I can understand it. I also feel that being a part of my husband's religious practices and him being a part of mine makes our bond stronger.
In the end, what I love most of how I live my religious life is that I know I am part of a religion where I can feel free to incorporate parts of traditional Catholic practices, and that incorporating those practices doesn’t mean I am jeopardizing any of the basic Pagan belief structures that I hold dear.
I’ve found my path.
www.witchvox.com/va/dt_va.html?a=ustx&c=words&id=10598
Author: Smog Kills
Just about every Sunday morning, I go through the same ritual:
I tend to my young son, make sure my husband and I have a decent enough breakfast, shower, dress, tuck a worn silver pentacle inside my shirt, and..... load the family in our car to go to Catholic Mass.
Growing up in a lukewarm evangelical home left me feeling spiritually empty. Being someone who is, by nature, a deeply spiritual person, at first I tried to fill the void inside me with what I knew. I volunteered to help sit for church day-care. I both attended and taught Sunday school all year and taught Vacation Bible School in the summer. I sang in the choir, performed solos, and got my mother and father to attend the additional Sunday and Wednesday evening services. But it still wasn't enough; something was missing, so I pushed even harder. I went door to door inviting people to our church and attended the Bible study at my middle school (two things that I secretly thought were pretty tacky). Most of all, I prayed to end my greatest shame. I prayed to truly feel the reality of a solid God and to find my path in life.
Finally God answered my prayer.
I met a Catholic friend at school and started to get interested in the Catholic Church. It all seemed so dark, mystical, deep, and holy. I’m sure it didn’t hurt that everything Catholic was a bit taboo in my house. Even though my family wasn’t deeply faithful, they still held that firmly rooted Protestant hatred of anything Catholic.
On my own time, I started checking out books from both my school and town libraries about the world's oldest Christian church. It was through them that I first discovered Mary as the Blessed Mother. She was someone I knew of from my evangelical church, but only in a passing sense. The Catholic faith actually gave the person of Mary substance. She had thoughts and feelings of her own. She was the tender virgin, loving mother, and wise old crone to all of us, as well as her son. After a few months of research, I worked up enough nerve to visit the Catholic church in town. It hit me as I walked in the doors. A lingering scent of incense clung to the fabric, a beautiful altar was laid out front and center, and off to the left was a painting of the Mother of God. Rows of candle offerings flickered in front of her, and I fell to my knees to thank her for letting me find this wonderful place.
It wasn't often, but when I could, I would slip off to the Catholic church and leave flower offerings in front of her image. I purchased a tiny likeness of her to keep on a dresser next to my bed. The more information I devoured about Mary, the more I found that she was compared to a Goddess, and that her son was the same being as her God. I also found that her image in the form of Our Lady of Guadalupe was a direct link from the old Mexican gods, and that there were links to her from the old Celtic gods as well. It all made sense and I started to look into all of the major world religions.
First through the internet, and later through books, I eventually found Wicca. Wicca was the first religion that made me feel like it could possibly be my path. (This is such a common statement from Pagans who have come from other religious backgrounds, but it is always so true!) I focused all of my spiritual energy on gaining a better understanding of Wicca and later, Paganism in general. Through high school and college, I treaded more heavily into the Pagan waters and drank of them deeply. I finally felt the call to initiate myself as a Witch during my first semester of college and started to practice simple magic. Not long after, I found my best friend and spiritual instructor within the Witchvox site. Through her, I had doors opened to me to the Pagan community outside of the internet.
Not long after this, I met a nice Catholic boy who would become my husband and started to rediscover my love of the Catholic church and parts of Christianity. I attended service with him from time to time and found great worth in a lot of the lessons taught. Together we started to delve more deeply into both faiths. He went from being someone who went to church out of habit, to a thinking spiritual soul. I started to see that Paganism isn't something of a black-and-white, us-versus-them nature. Paganism is a religion full of the colors and textures of centuries. My husband saw the Pagan aspects of his church and, while not being able to say he gives it all up entirely, gave into the fact that God can have more than one face, and that there is more than one road to the other side of this life.
It is pretty easy to feel like the typical ‘outsider’ when you have a faith structure like I do. At church I can feel people staring at my pretty open Pagan tattoo. At other times I can feel the unasked questions of other New Agers. I know that people look at Pagans like me and wonder how we can do it. They wonder how we justify attending a Christian church and kneeling before a Pagan altar, sometimes on the same day. I can't answer for anyone else, and I can’t say that my husband and I have all of our religious problems worked out yet, but my personal reasons are simple enough. I can see the Goddess in Mary and the God in her son. I find value in a great deal of the church's teachings on love, hope and charity. I enter a church service much like I enter a classroom. I don’t have to believe everything that I am told, but it makes me a more well-rounded person if I can understand it. I also feel that being a part of my husband's religious practices and him being a part of mine makes our bond stronger.
In the end, what I love most of how I live my religious life is that I know I am part of a religion where I can feel free to incorporate parts of traditional Catholic practices, and that incorporating those practices doesn’t mean I am jeopardizing any of the basic Pagan belief structures that I hold dear.
I’ve found my path.
www.witchvox.com/va/dt_va.html?a=ustx&c=words&id=10598
