My non-denominational self v.s. My very Catholic mother...

A Virgin Mary head stands in the way of my parent's doorbell. If you want to avoid "disturbing" the head, and you want to knock instead, there will be a sign in front of your face that reads, "This house is Catholic, we do not accept propaganda"... If you've managed to get through these two obstacles, there will be one more inside with my mom's rosary/virgin mary/candle burning altar sitting at our breakfast bar.

My mother is Catholic and she's proud of it. She's infused our home with "catholicism" decor.

Knowing how very Catholic my mother is, and how "non-anything-religious" I am, you can imagine the conversations that spark up between my mother and I... Trying to explain to my mother that I'm "non-denominational" and what this means is hopeless.

I love me some Jesus. Jesus is amazingly awesome. He hung out with losers, he partied with the common folk. He embraced what others rejected. He hated all things religious, he called the most elite religious people at the time "brood of vipers" and defied their customs and laws. Jesus is a revolutionary. The first true revolutionary; and ironically, the one history forgets to mention.

Religion is man-made. Jesus is divine. Religion, at times, oppresses; and Jesus simply frees. I love me some Jesus, I'll pass on religion... People sometimes tend to mix & match the two-- confuse them as if one thing implies the other. Like a burger & fries, they feel that if you're into Jesus, then you're automatically "religious".

Anyway, without further a due, here are some stories about my very catholic mother and my non-denominational self:

A couple weeks ago, my mom asked me what I was planning to give up for "lent". I told her (politely) that I hadn't really thought about it (because, again-- I am non-denominational, but my mom chooses to completely ignore this and thinks that I'll just continue to conform to catholicism)... days later, it ended up being "ash wednesday", and since I didn't go get the ashes on my forehead, my mother had a cow about it. She got home from work that day, marched straight into my room, looked at my forehead and breathed out a huge sigh of shock.

She couldn't believe that I hadn't gone to go get the ashes on my forehead. She went on and on about how I was sinning. I just listened and told her that there's nothing in the bible that mentions needing to get ashes on your forehead, and that while I think lent is a nice tradition, I simply didn't feel the need to go get ashes on my forehead to make God happy. Well, she nearly dropped on her knees right then and there and said 10 hail mary's. I almost wanted to slam my head against the wall just to leave a mark on my forehead and make her happy. :D

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.... I have a bible study that meets every Thursday here at my house. One day at breakfast, my mom asked me what type of girls came (meaning she wanted to know whether they were Catholic or Christian, since she's well aware that I have friends from both religions). I told her that the group was mixed. She (again), breathed out a sigh in shock and said that she may need to kick the Christian girls out because they may be giving all her "virgencitas" bad vibes... I said, "What do you mean, mom?" and she said, "Well, Christians don't pray to the Virgin" to which I responded, "You're right, they don't"... And then she said, "Well, that's probably making my virgencita very upset... that those girls don't pray to her and that they ignore her."

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On a trip to Mexico, my sister bought a crucifix necklace. With time, I guess the crucifix fell, and all that was left was the cross. I was on my way to the restroom when my sister stopped me and said, "Look!" (pointing to her necklace). I asked her, "What?" (I didn't know what she was talking about), and then she explained how the crucifix had fallen. I told her, "Don't worry, it's just the 'monito' [little doll] part that fell. You still have the cross and it still looks nice".

Well, my sister went back to tell my mom that she was going to keep the necklace on since it was just the 'monito' that had fallen. My mom asked her why she was calling the crucifix a 'monito' and, of course, my sister told her that that's what I had called it..... I honestly did not mean to disrespect the crucifix by calling it a 'monito' ["little doll"], it's just that at the time, I honestly couldn't remember what it was called.

Well, by the time I came out of the restroom, my mom was screaming out of her lungs, shouting out, "this is not called a 'monito', this is Jesus Christ" (pointing to a small crucifix in her hand). I said, "Mom, that's not Jesus Christ". And she said, "Yes it is!!!" And she grabbed the little crucifix, pointed to it again and said, "Jesus is in there!!"

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:)