Friday, April 10, 2015

Victimae pascalae laudamus

Sometimes Catholic is like a dirty word. I say it just to hear it. It satisfies me. It feels so wrong to say. Like I cannot or should not say it. That seems funny to me. I used to be so proud of it. It nearly consumed our every word. We spoke, ate, walked, breathed and sinned "Catholic."

It is Holy Saturday. I go to youtube and type in “Easter Vigil Mass.” I find the one from last year. I put it on, and listen to the chants. Familiar and forgotten. I want to be singing them. I want to be there singing them.

It is personal to me.
I find it painful sometimes. Not because remembering it is painful, but remembering how far away that all seems from me now is painful.

My god, my god, why have you abandoned me?

I believe in love. The beauty of love. The goodness of being good. The beauty of the faith. I find it hard to believe for the sake of belief. Not believing does not make me happy. It seems like now everybody just wants to die.

“Oh happy fall!”
“Oh necessary sin of Adam”

I hate being out here holding onto nothing.

We’re looking in at each other from two different sides of the window. I can't tell if I am the one inside.