I don't think anyone goes to confession every week anymore. Most of us are doing well to go once a year which I believe is the new requirement to keep us from Satan's grasp when we die. By the way, one of my many questions of the Church (in addition to why priests aren't allowed to marry and why no women priests) is this: If we do not go to confession at least once a year, or if we miss Mass on Sunday or a Holy Day and die before confessing the transgression, are we going to the same Hell where I assume Hitler now resides?) And, speaking of confession, I no longer can cower in the shadows of the confession box. Now all those boxes remain empty — at least in my parish. I don't know if this is true everywhere; but as for me, I now sit in a room with the priest, who may or may not face me directly, as I confess my "sins."
Another change from the 'good' old days is the ban against ever entering a non-Catholic church or synagogue. Did they think our souls would be irreparably tainted by exposure to such unhallowed places? I remember having to go to confession because I attended an Episcopalian friend's wedding in her church. And, of course, we were forbidden to take part in such a ceremony — which was probably good in a way, because it saved me from having to buy and wear a couple of particularly ugly bridesmaid dresses.
Of course, pre-marital sex was — and still is — considered sinful, as is birth control, even after marriage.And back in the day, any children produced were required to have saints' names. We could not name our babies after a jewelry store, an avenue in the Big Apple, a wine, or luxury car. Among my Catholic contemporaries you will find Marys, Theresas, Michaels, and Thomases everywhere, but not a single Tiffany, Madison, Brandy, or Bentley.
Oh, sorry! I have to run and call 911! It's Friday, and I made the mistake of serving meatloaf to the 20-year-old me.
She's choking on it!!!
©2017 Rose Madeline Mula for SeniorWomen.com
Pages: 1 · 2
More Articles
- Rose Madeline Mula: If You Can't Stand the Heat
- Rose Mula Reprise, Not My Parents' Church: It's Saturday Mass and I'm Wearing Slacks and Sneakers! No Hat! Not Even a Lace Square Pinned to My Head!
- Jo Freeman Reviews: Lady Bird Johnson: Hiding in Plain Sight
- Rose Madeline Mula Writes: I Feel Like That Carton of Milk In the Refrigerator Which Is Beyond Its Expiration Date
- Jo Freeman Reviews From Preaching to Meddling: A White Minister in the Civil Rights Movement
- Rose Madeline Mula Writes: Look Who's Talking
- “Housewife” to “Hussy”; A Revisit To Grammarphobia: From Domestic to Disreputable
- Rose Madeline Mula Writes: Addicted to Amazon
- Stateline: Many Faithful Say It’s Time to Gather. Some Governors Disagree
- Rose Madeline Mula Writes About Silver Linings to the COVID19 Cloud