Ja-lene Clark:
Making Peace with Religious Roots

I was raised in the Catholic faith. As a little girl I remember learning how to act during Mass…we spoke, knelt, and sang with precision on cue. One of my most dominant memories is of the confirmation process and being able to participate in communion for the first time. Participation was a sacred rite of passage that we children received once we had mastered our lessons. I was just a little girl, around  six or seven, but I have a vivid memory of practicing for communion before the actual Mass.

The nuns who were our teachers were unusually patient and sweet-natured. We were lucky to have such sweet sisters to teach us. While practicing the walk back to the pew after receiving the “pretend” sacrament, one of the nuns touched me on my shoulder, then whispered “Ja-lene, remember to clasp your hands together and keep your thumbs touching…pretend like you are carrying the baby Jesus in your arms.” That struck me and I felt very proud to most carefully act as if I, a mere child, were worthy of carrying Jesus.  I enjoyed learning all the rituals during confirmation and wanted to do well with these studies.

During confirmation we learned about confession. On my first trial run with confession, I waited in line trying to figure out what I was going to confess. After all, I was just a little girl….maybe I had picked on my little brother but I wasn’t sure if that would qualify as a sin.

I went inside the confessional. It was dark and intimidating. The priest opened his screen and I marveled on how wonderful it was that he could not see my face. I obediently knelt and said the words I had been taught, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”  The priest replied, “What have you done, my child?” I had been thinking about what I would say. I blurted out, “Well can’t I tell you all the good things I’ve done? I did some good things this week!” The next several moments were a blur. I don’t remember how many Hail Marys and Our Fathers I had to say, but I do remember he came out of the confessional to chastise and scold me in front of my classmates. Why, who was I to ask such a question? How could I ask such a question that would call into question the sacred ritual of confession that had been working for centuries? I might as well have been labeled blasphemous before my eighth birthday.

Shameful, huh?

Do you have any memories like this of speaking up and asking a question as a child when you were also embarrassed? Do you have a memory of a hurtful event in church?

Truly, I didn’t realize for some years what a pivotal moment that first confession was in my life. As a result, I learned to keep quiet at church and keep my thoughts to myself or risk ridicule. It also created a distancing between me and God. I fought with my mother when it was time to go to church. Shunned organized religion and looked for fault in the system. I didn’t feel like I belonged.

Looking back I see that first confession was a pretty devastating event. In later life, as I started unraveling the frayed pieces of my spirit, I learned to speak up. At first, I will admit, I was too loud and too bold with my opinions. With time I began to explore my intrinsic curious nature about all things spiritual. I made peace with my nature and embraced the fact that I liked to ask questions about spirituality.  Eventually I acknowledged that I was really good at questioning!

I also made peace with the Catholic Church. How did I accomplish this? It was not through forgiveness. It was through respect.

I had been on a kick—kicking all the things I could see wrong with the Church and it was not hard to find fault.  Then one day something shifted. I went to a little Catholic Church. It was not time for Mass. I went to pray. And while there I heard something say; “Do not forsake your roots.” Miraculously I began to let go of fault-finding and see the good things about Catholicism…

Of all the branches of Christianity, the Catholics had preserved the mysteries, rituals, mysticism and ceremonies. Many of the things that we see as “out-there” like exorcism, hands-on healing, seeing apparitions, hearing the voice of god or angels, miracles, mantras, mudras and more, the Catholic Church embraces all of these and is often the sought-out expert in such situations. In the Archivum Secretum Vaticanum, the Catholic Church has the most amazing archive of spiritual documents and preserves these artifacts for future generations. 

So yes, it is true, there was a priest who embarrassed me as a child. How I reacted was my choice. I am certain that other people have their own unpleasant memories and many of which are far more damaging than my experience. It is true that the Church is not perfect. But I have the power to choose. I have the power of peace. I could very easily choose to find more fault.  Instead it gives me the peace to respect the good and wonderful things that the Catholic Church has historically preserved.

Peace be with you.

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