Religious Myth

Religious Myth: Intercession

When my mom was a girl, the kids in her neighborhood called her a "Cat-licker," a childish pejorative for "Catholic." Catholics were different, suspicious. They ate the body of Christ! They followed the Popes orders!

You'd think things would have changed. But it wasn't too many years ago that a woman I knew, someone I considered a friend, actually brought up this old chestnut: "You Catholics pray to the saints instead of to God!" Maybe there are things that still need explaining.

Imagine you're looking for a job, when your dream opportunity opens up at a company with a fabulous reputation. You want this job. You want it badly. Then you find out, serendipitously, that a good friend of yours from college is on the hiring committee. You'd reach out to your friend, wouldn't you?

It's the same with Catholics and saints. Saints are people, first and foremost. They're not angels or other supernatural beings. They lived here on earth. They're relatable. But they also know God. Intimately! They live with him!

Catholics pray exclusively to their higher power, to God. But we aren't above asking a friend to put in a good word for us. And that's where saints fit in. They're that old college friend on the hiring committee, someone who has pull with "the big guy/gal."

So we ask. I know; it looks suspiciously like prayer. The saints we're talking to aren't in the room with us, after all. But it isn't. It's intercession. Certain saints are associated with certain types of intercession: Saint Lawrence, my patron saint, is the patron saint of cooking. Saint Jude responds to lost causes. Saint Anthony is good to talk to about finding lost objects. Think of saints as an extra line of communication with God.

I don't have a problem with intercession. It makes sense to me. That doesn't mean I agree with everything the Catholic Church does or says. Far from it.

- Lori Strawn

Religious Myth on Questioning

Recently, my dear friend Ruth noted in response to another blog, "I'm torn between the idea that religions should be less rigid, and the notion that if you disagree with the tenets of a religion, it's up to you to change your ways or find a new religion."

It's true, most religions come off as rather stiff-necked, and Catholicism is no different. Well, except in one notable way.

Catholics have rights, and among them is the Right to Legitimate Dissent. This means that if I believe a certain tenet or practice of the Church is incorrect, incomplete, or in some other way wrong, I can say so. Not only that, I must say so. As loud as I can, and to as many people as I can. Shout it from the rooftops, if possible.

For instance, I believe the Church is wrong in its stance on contraceptives. As my high school religion teacher, Mrs. McKellogg once said, "I used the rhythm method (the only "contraception" allowed by the Catholic Church) and I have 11 children. That tells you how well it works." Women, Catholic women included, use birth control. It's a fact. To tell them they are wrong constitutes, I feel, a deliberate ignorance of contemporary life.

It is also a misunderstanding of scripture. Yes, God told us to go forth and multiply. He did not say, "Please, all of you, especially the poorest and most in need, pop out kids till you die of puerperal fever. Or watch your children die of starvation and disease." The God I worship would never be so cruel.

So I'm stating my dissent. In a blog. That hopefully will be read by as many people as possible. And that's my right as a Catholic. Pretty cool, huh?

We Catholics believe that the Church is the body of Christ, and we, the people, are the Church. Not some hierarchy over in Rome...us, the people. And if we make up the Church, we ought to have a hand in shaping it. Not that Rome (or even our own pastor) always listens, but it will take more than that to shut me up. I've got rights, see?

-Lori Strawn

Religious Myth about Nuns

Face it. Every nun you've ever seen in pop culture — on TV, in movies — wears a heavy black-and-white uniform ("habits" to us Catholics), coupled with either a stern face and a ruler or a saintly ethereality. Back in my parochial schooldays, some of the boys asserted that nuns had no legs at all, just robotic simulacrums with wheels instead. (Catholic boys have vast imaginations.) When Sister Judith hiked up her skirt to prove them wrong, it felt scandalous.

I learned a lot about nuns as I grew older, most notably in college. Now those old stereotypes really bug me. Despite their depiction in media, many nuns don't wear long, heavy habits anymore. They haven't since the sixties, when Vatican II brought sweeping updates to the Church. Some don't wear habits at all. They dress simply, yet appropriately for the situation. The first time my friend Mary Claire met our now mentor and friend Rosemary (a Sister of Providence), she was wearing jeans and a "Ms." t-shirt. She was working in her garden at the time.

Yes, nuns garden. They eat pizza and drink beer. They go to movies. They hold doctorate degrees, not just in theology, but in subjects as diverse as mathematics and education. They write books. They are involved in politics. In fact, a one-time vice presidential nominee for the Socialist Party was a nun. I met her. She was awesome-ly cool.

Most nuns are extraordinary women, educated, passionate, socially aware. They'd make excellent priests. Unfortunately, old stereotypes die hard...even within the Catholic Church.

I once saw a photo of a woman carrying a sign that read, "If you won't ordain us, don't baptize us." In other words, don't bother allowing women admission to a religion that doesn't fully recognize us and allow us full participation. I don't feel quite that strongly; but some days, I come awfully close...especially on days when I see another desexualized stereotype on my TV screen, masquerading as a nun.

- Lori Strawn