Losing (and Finding) my Religion

Today started not unlike any other Sunday.

After sleeping in late, I got up and drank two cups of coffee while perusing through the Sunday Datebook in the San Francisco Chronicle. I chatted with Tim, gave the kitties some scratches as they lounged in a sunbeam, and then poached eggs for breakfast. A typical relaxing Sunday.

And then it hit me.

Today was Easter Sunday, and it felt empty to me.

As a child, Easter was the culmination of 40 days of sacrifice (we were often encouraged in CCD to give something up through the duration of Lent). I wore an ashen cross on my forehead on Ash Wednesday, shunned meat on Fridays, got a palm leaf on Palm Sunday, and attended mass on Easter itself.

Easter is considered the most important holiday in Christianity, and here I was almost indifferent towards it. I didn't go to mass, didn't give up anything, and practically forgot the date altogether. This from a woman who was baptized, confirmed, and married in the Catholic Church. The same person who ran the youth group at her parish, and was a counselor at youth retreats serving the San Francisco Archdiocese. My, how times have changed.

Outside of weddings, baptisms, and funerals, I haven't gone to mass in any sort of regular fashion in years. Lack of time, lack of interest, and strong disagreement with the Catholic Church on the issues of pregnancy, homosexuality, and how they handled molestation cases in the past have driven a wedge in the very foundation I was raised in.

Am I having a crisis of faith? Maybe so. I still believe in God, and I like the values I was given through the church as well. Yet, it isn't compelling enough to make me any more Catholic lately.

I wondered this afternoon, as my family and I hid 180 (yes, you read that right, 180) plastic Easter eggs in my grandma's backyard for my younger cousins to hunt, if I lost Easter in a sea of candy and commercialism. And then another realization struck me.

Easter is a celebration of life - Jesus rising from the dead. And here I was, surrounded by family from age two to 80, celebrating the tight bonds we have as family. If not for the sacrifices of Christ, it would have been any other Sunday, but instead, it was a special day that brought us all together. A day for playing hide-go-seek with my little cousins CeCe, Kat, and William. A time to chat with my 80-year-young grandmother. A time to giggle about my husband and my father showing up to dinner wearing similar Hawaiian shirts and khaki pants. A time to break bread together, eating a variety of delicious foods from my ethnically diverse family.

So while it wasn't a deeply religious day for me, recognizing the meaning of Easter and feeling more towards the day than I did this morning was a religious experience of sorts.

I hope you and your family had a lovely Easter as well.