Bad

A friend was saying how he and their family hadn't been to church in several weeks. And that, during the summer, they had skipped it almost the entire three-month stretch.

I told him I hadn't been to church in about a year and a half.

And he asked: "Do you feel bad?"

Bad.

From the outside, I appeared to be struck dumb as I sat there with my mouth hanging half-open. Inside, my mind exploded with a verbal montage - like those cheesy sequences in B movies, except without pictures - of responses.

I settled on: "It depends on what your definition of bad is."

A little background here... I was raised Catholic, and we've raised our children as Catholics. According to the Catholic faith, we must attend Mass every Sunday. But I had a bit of a lapse during the summer before last. That's happened before. In the past, I usually got back into the habit after a short hiatus. Just like my friend.

But this time, a few weeks turned into a few months. I did feel guilty at first. My upbringing and twelve years of Catholic education nagged at me to get back into church. Yet something else that I couldn't define also nagged at me. I didn't feel like I had a hole in my spiritual self that could be filled by the routine of church. In fact, I didn't feel a hole existed at all. I felt no more like a sinner for having skipped Mass than I felt before, when I attended regularly. So I didn't feel compelled to go.

During the following year, I spent much time thinking about good and bad - and good people and bad people. I found many examples of Christian people doing the right thing. Yet I found examples of people from many other faiths - or no religious faith at all - exemplifying what is good and right in our world. So "good" wasn't limited just to people who went to church every Sunday. Conversely, and sadly, I also found examples of Christians and non-Christians causing others pain.

I recognized that all humans, whether or not they believe in my God or any God at all, have great capacity for love and also for pain. During that year, my absence from church became not so much a lazy response to getting dressed up on Sundays, as a conscious, deliberate decision.

What, exactly, did I decide? That I don't need to be Catholic, or a Christian, or affiliated with any religion whatsoever, to be a kind person of strong morality. I can do good all by myself.

I can skip Mass if that's right for me, and you can skip or go according to what's right for you.

And I no longer feel guilt over my decision.

So no, I don't feel bad.