Pope Francis and Religion that Heals | Healthy Aging Series: S11 E14
I’m not a Catholic, but I felt the loss of Pope Francis. I’ve been reading Thomas Merton lately, and I think Pope Francis was that kind of Catholic. They rejected certitude and coerciveness in religion. They supported a more tolerant and inclusive Catholicism.
There was healing in their message, at least for me.
Toxic Religion
I always felt like I was caught in a religious crossfire between my two grandmothers.
Grandma Louise was a Catholic. Grandma Lulu was a Pentecostal.
Maybe it wasn’t a war zone, but it was obvious that at one time or another neither was happy with us.
My dad was happy to become a Catholic because he loved my mother and had little interest in the Pentecostalism of his mother.
All nine of us, that’s right they had nine children, were baptized Catholics, had first communion, attended mass every Sunday, and went to Saint Clements Catholic school.
Because of our Catholicism, I always felt “less than” at the Neese Family Summer Reunions. Everyone was Pentecostal but us. And it’s hard to explain but they all looked and sounded different. Uncle Johnnie had this booming voice when he prayed over the summer feast.
My Religious DMZ
Somewhere in the mid to late 60s, Vatican II happened, and Mom and Dad left the Catholic Church, and because of that our Grandma Louise disowned us.
After that, we became Lutherans, and then Methodists, and then Unitarian Universalists.
I remember asking Mom what to put on my high school registration form and she said to put Christian. There was a sense of freedom doing that.
Growing up, religion always had a coercive feel to it, like taxes, but worse. And it was very good at producing guilt.
Of course, not all religion is toxic. Far from it.
I have experienced wonderful, sacrificial, and loving expressions of religion. I’ve already mentioned Pope Francis and Thomas Merton, but I can add many, many non-Catholics to that list as well.
Dr. Carl Jung examined religion closely and warned against religion that focused only on external ritual, religion that neglected the inner life.
Miller and His Three Sons
There is a Folk Tale that appears to warn against religion, but really, it’s a warning against ideologies that impose a coerciveness on others.
Miller and His Three Sons
There was a man whose name was Miller, and he had three sons. One was blind, one had a physical disability, and the third one was stark-naked. Once they came to a field and there, they saw a rabbit. The blind one shot it, the one with the physical disability caught it, and the naked one, put it in his pocket. Then they came to a big lake, on which there were three boats, one sailed, one sank, the third one had no bottom to it. The three got into the one with no bottom in it and rowed across the lake. Then they came to a huge forest in which there was a very large tree; and in the tree was a very big chapel, and in the chapel was a Sexton made of Beachwood and a Boxwood Parson, who dealt out holy water with a club.
Happy is the person who runs from that holy water.
This folktale has three scenes and then a verse that pulls it all together.
You read it and scratch your head and ask, “What?”
None of these stories make sense, and that is exactly the response that the storyteller wants.
The blind son shot the rabbit, “Hardly!” you respond.
The son with a physical disability catching it? “Not likely.”
The naked son putting the rabbit in his pocket. “Say what! What pocket?”
In scene two, there is a large lake and three boats. They take the boat without a bottom across the lake. “Nope, not happening!”
In scene three, it’s different. They come to a large forest and a very large tree. Inside the big tree was a big chapel. So far, great imagery, fantastical, and also in a sense, unbelievable.
But here is the shift. Inside the chapel are two wooden individuals. The Sexton who cares for the grounds and the Parson who cares for the people.
Both are wooden, both are rigid and the Parson in particular, administering the sacraments with a wooden club.
The scene illustrates toxic religion, and more than that, toxic relationships. There is no life or compassion as evidenced by the wooden figures and coerciveness as evidenced by the wooden club.
The Folk Tale is an admonition to run, not walk, but run, not from the symbols of your faith: the water, the dove, the bread and wine, the tongue of fire, but run from those that administer rules and administer rigidity. They neglect the upkeep of the grounds and the care for the soul. Run, not from the symbols of your faith, but from those who offer nothing but form and coerciveness to follow rules.
This Folk Tale asks, if you don’t find the story of the three sons credible, why find credibility with the message of the dead, wooden administrators of the sacraments.
But it isn’t just the Sexton and the Parson that sew death. It isn’t just toxic religion that sews death.
Happy as the person that runs from the death and decay of toxic relationships. And runs from toxic politics. And runs from toxic social taboos.
Run. Run. Run.
Do not be deluded by the toxic voices that surround you promising some form of eternal life but absent of Love.
The eternal life that they sew doesn’t heal.
The eternal life that they preach is devoid of love, acceptance, and forgiveness.
The eternal life that they promote divides rather than unites, it judges rather than embraces, and it promotes fear rather than peace.
Run from this type of religion, this type of ideology.
Happy is the person who is able to practice their faith in freedom, without coerciveness, and within a community that heals.
I think Pope Francis wanted that type of religious community. He wasn’t the spokesman for every Catholic, and for that matter, not a spokesman for many protestants.
What I heard from Pope Francis, I liked. He seemed to be more ecumenical than some of the previous Popes and was much more tolerant toward those in the LGBTQ community.
He wasn’t perfect. And he was behind the wheel of a very, very large organization, which, like a very large ship, has a very slow turn radius. Some people are looking for revolution, but I think he was looking for a slow reformation.
I don’t know what my grandmothers would think about me today. I don’t consider myself a traditional Theist. I do have a sense of the divine within me. And I’m open to learning and growing by sitting around the table with like-minded people of faith.
No coercion. No dead ritual and plenty of freedom to be the person I want to be.
