I tried again to go to a Catholic church last Sunday. It seems every
time I try to get a social life here, everything leads to St. T’s, Saint
Theresa’s the local Catholic place that is apparently doing a real good job at what
they do, when not looking the other way while Father Horney gets his horns off
with a kid in the confessional… but I digress.
I've sort of made a few friends in town and they all go to Saint T’s. The
people I'm interested in meeting in Tahoe it turns out go to St. T’s. People I've met who I like will go into long conversations
about great things that happen when they're at St. T’s, so I thought, well, I could
just see what it's like. I mean my last time as a practicing Catholic they were
still doing it in Latin. Dad let me and Trish leave the church after we became teenage
whores, as dad knew what Father Horne did to us… he even got a settlement from the
Chicago archdiocese in 1955… but I digress.
So Sunday AM I'm dressed to go out and Denny’s is just not an option,
nor is any of the other churches… Presbyterian to me is Catholic light although
at least their priests are married. Still they wear the robes and sound so
Catholic that I've gotten triggered when I went there before and also… I don't
know.
I went Sunday to Saint T’s to try to be part of the town where I'm living. I walked in enough past the beginning to be
un-noticed sat in the back and listened to some nice singing, then looked
around. A guy I think I recognized, Hispanic with his family, was bent forward holding
his prayer book, trying, trying to hard to have the spiritual experience he
came there to have, pushing it kind of, but determined. I remember feeling that way a long time ago,
a spiritual feeling, in several churches since adulthood. I know what that Mexican man across the aisle
was trying to get to. I wanted to get there
too.
But then as I looked around more, this thing inside just would not stay
silent. I knew if I sat there much
longer, I was going to holler something, I was thinking it and soon I’d be
thinking it out loud or maybe screaming, “You are all being conned at such a
deep level!”
My mouth opened, this strange noise came out. It started deep in the stomach but I choked on
it, so instead it turned into a cough, a gaseous cough that hiccupped out and people
kind of jumped nearby, I think the priest even jerked his hand… not sure. I thought, if I do not get out of here in this
moment I am going to scream out something and embarrass myself and I'm already kind
of getting known as a crazy old lady in town…
So I went back outside and walked around and I think I had one conversation,
with a bus driver. The cafes are empty in the mornings here, this is a party
city and I'm a morning person.
Hmm.
Also Posted at CofA12 http://cityofangels12.blogspot.com
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