St Francis of Assisi

Laura Mary McCarthy... it don't get much more catholic than that! However, my namesake aside, I've not been sporting much of my family's spiritual lineage in my adult life. Like many modern seekers I am turned off by rules rules rules and the prevalent hypocrisy and close mindedness that is so entwined with organised religion.

None are perfect, all have their beautiful allegories and prophetic poets; and all have their archaic laws and contradictory practices. I am intrigued by it all; especially the part where mucky human hands tried to take a picture of the divine, develop it, make copies, package it, market it, sell it and then manhandle it until it was almost unrecognizable and covered in fat fingerprints. We are flawed and thus then are our interpretations... How can we describe the ineffable? And how then can we go beyond that still and attempt to decipher the message and meaning of that which we can’t comprehend in the first place? The history of much of the world's religions and how we've come to relate to them and their stories is much like a group of school children playing a game of telephone.

But I love dialogue (and monologue apparently), and I think that the stories are important and plan in my life to read the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita, the Tao Te Ching and the Qur'an (hold me to this and check back and ask me when I'm 40 where I'm at okay?). I enjoy talking about and trying to grasp some understanding of what is holding all these molecules together. I do believe in a God, and I believe what ever it is lives within all of us, connecting our minds and hearts; and I am interested in what every person I know and don’t know thinks about this too. Some days its all I’m interested in. Because I found my way in all of this very much alone and certainly not only on Sundays I wonder sometimes what it must be like to have a particular faith, sometimes I wish I had just one book to reference and a place and person I could ask my big questions, a ritual for forgiveness, and a conscious time for prayer.

When I took my beautiful Nanna to church a few years ago I was in the thick of my own seeking but open to experiencing her way of connecting with the divine. This woman brings tears to my eyes on a regular basis, but that hour with her, in the same church my parents married in, that I was baptised in, that she attends every Sunday to pray for me and my family’s health and happiness, well it was almost more than I could take. I didn’t find God that morning in the stained glass windows or the gross little cracker I took in communion, I found God in between my Nanna and me; she believes, really truly believes and watching her pray was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I was still struggling with the fullness of my belief. But being there with her was proof of everything. All of the traditions and formalities and even the semi creepy hymn referencing damnation fell away and the truth of God showed itself in my Nanna’s face when we turned to one another to shake hands and say, “Peace be with you”.

I think I turned my back on Catholicism right after my first communion. I had my first confession and first communion all in the same weekend. The confession part really took it out of me, I was in there for ages; if I was going to do this I would do it right and confess everything I had ever done that could possibly be interpreted as a sin even sighting specific times and dates where I could. I confessed so much that the priest laughed and eventually said “That’s enough my child”.

The next day was the communion, some of the kids were nervous but I was loving it. My dress was perfect and my mum had even given in and let me get the hairband I wanted. A truly great day. After it was all said and done, I turned to my Dad and asked, “So Dad, what next?” I figured I was pretty good at this religion thing and wanted to go forth and conquer the next level (it felt like passing a swimming test, and at 8 years old I was already up to the red level in swimming). My Dad replied “Well Laura, the next thing is your confirmation”. He then went on to describe it in great detail but I stopped listening right after he said “At your confirmation you get to take on the name of a saint”. My mind was racing, a chance to reinvent myself! Laura felt like such a boring name, Laura Mary McCarthy, boring boring boring (for the record I love my name now)... I butted in, “Any saint?”. “Yes,” my Dad replied, “Any saint recognised by the Catholic church”. “I know!” I cried in clever excitement, “I am going to be St Francis of Assisi!” Long pause. “That’s a man” my Dad reminded. But I knew that, I knew everything about St Francis. “I know Dad, I know he’s a man. But you said ANY saint and he is my favourite. He is the nicest and he loves animals and I especially like the ‘of Assisi’ part. That is who I’m going to be”. Probably very used to my precocious nature by then my father patiently but firmly came back with “Laura, we might be able to find a female saint named Francis or Francine or Francesca (he was really testing me here... Francesca was my favourite name and only doll’s name) but you absolutely cannot have the ‘of Assisi’ part”. Secretly hoping he would eventually cave, I decided to stay firm in my resolve, “Then I don’t want to be confirmed. St Francis of Assisi is my favourite saint and if I can’t be him then I will not do it thank you”. I still had three more years in Catholic day school ahead of me but in spite of that consistent influence, I went no further in my extra-curricular spiritual studies.

After those three years I’d really had enough of it all and another ten passed until I went voluntarily to a church service, that Sunday with my Nan. But that day opened me back up to the pure reasons behind it all: the physical structure of a place of worship, a time each week to go, a community of people to connect to and connect to God with, the rituals and rites of passages, the leaders. These things that I have found extraneous on my path are not extraneous for most. For some, like my Nanna, they are even cherished. And like everything and everywhere the Truth is not found in the dualities: good, bad, extraneous, necessary... the Truth/God is in the cracks and crevices, is grey in every lightness and darkness, is now, is single ego-less breath, is the effort to dress up and sit in a cold church hoping something will happen to your soul, is in the flicker of the flame, and so could just as easily be found in a pulpit or a pew or a “Peace be with you” as readily as on a yoga mat or in a wave’s perfect curl or the smell of the dinner your lover cooked for you. Why not?

Christianity isn’t very cool these days, and Catholicism? The closest Catholicism has been to cool was when someone made those “Jesus is my homeboy”/”Mary is my homegirl” t-shirts a few years ago. But I’m coming around to it... I’m letting go of the judgements and being open to it having as much to teach me as Zen Buddhism or Sufism (you know, the cool religions). And Catholicism has two things that no other sect, denomination, religion or faith based group in the world has: St Francis of Assisi and my Nanna! I’m not rushing out to buy a bible or a rosary nor do I have any interest in seeking out any Sunday services, I’m still fine here on my own finding my way in it all... But you better bet that the next time these walking shoes take me back to my English home town I’ll be taking Nan to mass; and my next trip to Italy will absolutely have to include a stop in Assisi to pay homage to the good man Francis.

Post Script:

The inspiration for this rather indulgent and lengthly entry came from a CBC pod cast I listened to this morning (while doing yoga I might add... that's called multi-faith multi-tasking). It is from a show called Tapestry that is pretty much my version of church; it is on Sundays (but I usually download it and listen to it at some random point in the week... like Wednesday morning) and features guests of all religions, disciplines and walks of life centering around something in the realm of spirit and discovery. They have had artists, poets, priests, scientists, humanists, zen masters, you name it! Today was a Franciscan priest named Richard Rohr. He follows the teachings of.... guess!? St Francis! I didn’t even know there was such a denomination. I found him to be very articulate, very open and progressive, and very much focused on living in this jumbled world with a clear mind and a full heart. I am including a link to the pod cast below... if you’ve got an hour to spare and want some brain and soul nutrients tune in.

http://www.cbc.ca/tapestry/podcast.html