I've passed this place countless times in the years I've resided in the area without having any…read moreinclination to enter its grounds and explore. It was a shrine (although I know technically what a "shrine" is...as a teen, I had 1 set up in my bedroom to actress Nastassja Kinski...I never quite knew the difference between a "church" and a "shrine" and had no real desire to find out), and it sat up on a hill, surrounded by trees.
My relationship to "religion" and "spirituality" has been complicated. Compelled to attend Protestant church as a kid, I had developed enormous hostility to religion. At 17, motivated by an inherent sense of fairness, I recognized that I didn't necessarily know what I was hostile about, and sat down to read the Bible. It wasn't an easy process, but I found the New Testament dealing with Jesus enlightening. At the risk of sounding blasphemous, I found Him to be a sort of proto-Marxist (even though my 17-year-old conceptions of Marxism were pretty inchoate and uninformed), not the button-down conservative with blond hair I had been raised to believe He was. He healed the sick, He championed the poor and destitute, He excoriated the moneychangers and drove them from the temple. What was not to like? Reading the Bible didn't necessarily make a believer of me, but it made me less hostile.
In the years since then, I've tried to explore all aspects of spirituality. I've read books dealing with Islam, Judaism, Hinduism (I like their tradition of tolerance, their belief that all religions have the same goal, and can be equally good), Buddhism, etc. (For writings pertaining to the historical Jesus, I recommend the work of Prof. Bart Ehrman).
Catholicism always intrigued me. As an adopted kid raised as a Protestant in a largely Catholic-Jewish neighborhood, it seemed a more colorful, less rigid "club" that I wasn't able to join. Later, when I was re-united with my Catholic birth mother, I attended services with her and liked a lot of what I witnessed (it should be noted that my 2 half-brothers, raised Catholic, are staunch atheists now). At some point, I learned that the Catholic Bible has more chapters, or books, in it than the Protestant version I had read so long ago (I guess Luther or King Henry VIII or Calvin decided to remove the chapters they felt weren't necessary). I decided I was going to have to re-read the Bible, but the Catholic version this time.
I guess it was timely that in riding around with my old friend, who was raised Catholic, we pulled into the shrine. When I looked inquiringly at him, he said, "I used to come here when my mom was dying. It gave me some peace to come here." There was plentiful parking, the grounds were beautiful, and we entered the main building, which contains a church (or chapel) and a gift shop. A Mass was being conducted, and we didn't stay long (evidently, they also have Masses in Spanish). There's another chapel being built in another part of the grounds.
There's a monument outside on the sprawling lawn to those who died in 9/11, with an impressive structure of bells that sound off periodically (I had the misfortune to be standing under 1 when it went off...loudly...and for a few minutes I feared that the bells would accomplish the total deafness that all those Ramones and Black Sabbath concerts hadn't).
The gift shop had much for sale, and I ended up buying the Catholic Bible for about $45 (I couldn't help but reflect on those free Bibles the Gideons used to put in hotel rooms way back when). It's a wonderfully crafted edition, with historical explanations, graphs, colorful illustrations, etc., and I have started reading it. I must confess (Sorry, Father, that's "confess" with a small "c") that the Old Testament is a tough slog, but I intend to see it through. They sell other religious books, CDs, DVDs, jewelry (crosses, etc.), and other items pertaining to Catholicsm. They had a statuette of St. Michael with his foot on the Devil's head that I was tempted to buy, but I figured $45 for one day was enough. The proprietor of the gift shop was pleasant and friendly.
Am I ready to convert? No. As I face the reality of oncoming death, I envy those with some firm spiritual faith to grasp on to. Protestantism isn't for me; it reminds me too much of Howard Johnson's 28 flavors of ice cream-- take your pick. But I don't know that I can, as a sentient adult, say, "Yes, I'm no longer Pro-Choice, I support celibacy in the priesthood and the 2nd class status of women, and I agree that some of these harmless vices that are common to humanity are grave sins that I need to repent of in order to find forgiveness and redemption." And I don't think Christianity is the only way to find God, if He or She actually exists.
Still, the shrine is a lovely, tranquil place for the faithful to engage in reflection, meditation, and expressions of their faith. Or for those who, as I am, are willing enough to at least investigate the possibility of having such a faith.
