the smedley log - suburban scrawl

I’m not Catholic, but my Godchildren are

And so my sister and her half-dozen offspring ventured out my way to visit the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, home to the shrine for St. Katharine Drexel.

Since they were in town, I went along, never wanting to miss the opportunity to spend time with the nieces and nephews (five of whom are also my Godchildren). We first stopped for lunch at Poppy’s, where the eight of us downed the better part of two pies. Then we ventured over to Bensalem where the Sisters, along with the Drexel shrine, reside.

The shrine was interesting, and I wish I’d taken a camera (for some reason I thought cameras wouldn’t be welcome – apparently I was wrong). Among the artifacts related to the life of Katharine Drexel was a collection of worn down pencils in a glass case. They were part of a display demonstrating St. Katharine’s commitment to her vow of poverty.

Poverty strikes me as an impressive vow to keep. Considering Drexel’s background, maybe even more so. Heir to a vast inheritance, she could have chosen a much more lavish life. Instead she chose to try to serve the under-served, contributing large sums of her family’s fortune in the process – effectively putting her money where her mouth was.

I’ve just been thinking about how rare that is, how counterculture it is, given everything society conditions us to value. I’m not Catholic, but I’m always impressed by people whose commitment to serving others is stronger than the desire to serve themselves.

With all the plusses and minuses you can come up with for varied religions, what I’ve always liked about Catholicism is its history / cultural richness – including the reverence for the saints. I think there is much “pure religious” value in having all these tales in that they aren’t just dry exemplary statements saying “be good or else”

Of course – I grew up w/ a grandmom who went to (at least) yearly retreats to Greymoor and came back with story books about the saints lives and such, so maybe there’s that positive attachment as well.

This is all part and parcel in my ongoing struggle with religion – I almost envy people who are bitter about religion instead of people like me who do see all this richness and such but just don’t have faith. If I had kids I’d be totally lost in that for the MOST part I think being raised with religion the way I was has been positive and would want my children to be raised that way, but would feel like a colossal hypocrite.

When I was in high school I worked in the convent kitchen at the Katherine Drexel shrine. This was well before she became a saint. The sisters there were (and I’m sure still are) really caring, committed people. They sacrifice a lot for their mission.

Father of said half-dozen chiming in….

Sanctity is always countercultural… but true counterculture doesn’t get to do applause lines at the Oscars.

Faith is a free gift, Ellen. Saying you “just don’t have faith” makes it sound like something that must come from within yourself, via intellectual effort or exertion of will, i.e., something that you yourself are responsible for. True faith, certainty (for example, that our parents love us), does not, cannot operate on this level. “Faith” of this sort is merely pre-agnosticism, which is itself the prelude to existential despair (sooner or later).

You were raised “in the faith”. Well then… you got the gift! You may have lost it, sure. We all do from time to time. After all, it is only about the size of a mustard seed. But you need to look for it… and eventually you’ll find it again, and then take all the better care of it. Some of the greatest saints struggled violently against unbelief (e.g., St. Therese of the Little Flower, Doctor of the Church; Blessed Teresa of Calcutta also) even to their deathbeds.

We’re ALL hypocrites. We all believe things we don’t say, and then say things we don’t do. But the solution is not to simply dial our beliefs down to avoid the charge of hypocrisy, but rather to direct our lived lives higher and better… and admit transparently our failings along the way to that ideal (especially to those we hurt the most). If we believe only what is comfortable and easy for us, we might well avoid the charge of hypocrisy, but what kind of moral/ethical system is that? Not one at all… and, yes, not something you’d will to your children.