When The Bachelor Becomes A Leper

A recent discussion I had with an unbelieving family member went something like this:

Me: Citing the Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church on a moral matter, and saying that I will teach my kids the same thing.

Family Member: Really?! I thought you wanted them to be part of the Church in name, only, and then to do their own thing in their lives.

You know, the way you and your husband do.

Don’t I want my family to live the virtues and teachings of the Church? Isn’t what is written in the catechism put there to help me get to Heaven? Don’t I want us all to be together in the afterlife? Where did I go wrong?

The rest of the day had me scratching my head and ticking off boxes.

I take my kids to Mass. They attend a Catholic school. We talk often about the beauty of the Sacraments.

And then it dawned on me.

Lately, our Church readings have dwelled, some might say a bit morbidly, on the things that separate those who are willing to give up a little worldly comfort in order to be aligned with God and those who decide that the prophets had it wrong, all along, and the world knows better.

I haven’t ever run across a leper whose wounds were being licked by dogs while I was feasting on a lavish banquet. But I have stayed quiet when I could have spoken up against sin. And I have not done the best job of teaching my kids absolute right from absolute wrong.

I’m a researcher and a journalist taught strongly to consider all sides before making a decision. I also love people to the core. And I am a pop culture junkie. Then there’s the gospel of twenty-first-century comforts to consider:

If you’re happy, you must be living right.

It feels so good to be well-liked.

I don’t want the controversy of standing up for my faith.

Politics are poppycock and posturing.

How dare you offend anyone?

And, the most troublesome of all: Embrace Church doctrine, and you might be unfriended or excluded and called prude, outdated, and sleepy.

People often say to me: “Come on, you can’t really be educated and enlightened and believe all of that stuff the Roman Catholic Church teaches, can you?”

I need to learn to answer with an emphatic yes. I see Church leaders do it all the time.

Our children are coming of age in a world that encourages people to speak a truth that they, themselves, have created. Many times, those who hold the platform have born this truth from bruises, brokenness, and poverty. And they often have plenty to say about how powerful people in religion have contributed to their pain.

I feel their trauma. I don’t like challenging this truth that has seemingly helped them to live better and less lonely in this life. And who am I to judge?

And yet, by choosing not to address behavior that flies in the face of Church teachings, I am telling my children that worldly comforts are more important than reaching Heaven. I am sending them a clear signal that absolute morality is nothing more than playing paper dolls. I am teaching them to leave the Church behind as they enter into adulthood and as society enters into the future. I am, indeed, raising the children that my agnostic relative expects me to raise.

I now realize I have to have a lot of difficult discussions with my kids so that they can carry our Church forward. I need to emphasize why the Church considers things that are celebrated by magazines, newspapers, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and whatever brand new, bells-and-whistles app comes along, to be sinful. I need to make sure they understand that abortion is not an act of female or youth empowerment, nor is it healthcare. I need to tell them that even though The Bachelor is treated like a leper for being a virgin at age 26, waiting until sacramental marriage to open your body to another person is a surefire way to increase your personal worth.

I need to be able let them know that they can sacrifice social conformity in order to be a son or daughter of Christ. And then, before the crucifix, I need to trust that God will give us all the grace to truly live right and forgive us all for the times when we follow the herd to trample Him.