In Horace Boothroyd's Diary Catholic Molestation Scandal: They Were Worse in the Past, Words In Action said:
More Catholics should be taking "recent" events as cause to migrate to other religions or form their own new one. I can't imagine what more they need to abandon this shameful, destructive institution.That makes perfect sense from outside. Below the orange angel perch, please find one woman's perspective.
I grew up Catholic in Chicago. My spiritual practice now is Buddhism, in which I am an initiate. I also practice with the Bhagavad Gita, teach Reiki, and make up my own spiritual practices. I almost never pray Catholic anymore.
Even so, one thing binds me forever to the Catholic Church: Catholicism has a lot to do with ancestor worship, and a profound tradition of women in unity consciousness.
On the one hand, the institution Catholicism couldn't be more vile. Understood. It's the epitome of patriarchal, abusive, hypocritical self-service. It's even uglier when you see it right up close, like how nuns are basically servants of priests, who must also be self-sufficient financially, then meet their community obligations.
On the other hand, run of the mill Catholics are all about worship of the feminine; it's about the collective unconscious, communion with angels and saints (aka channeling), prayer and active meditation. The difference between a novena and a candle spell is semantic.
Both sides of the coin are present in Catholicism. Like everywhere else in the world, the patriarchy still wins. Most Catholics don't take the hierarchy seriously at all. It's just another manifestation of the 1% world we live in. We ignore them as much as possible and do our thing.
For almost all of the practicing Catholics I know -- and I know a pile of them -- Catholicism is about schools, neighborhood organizing, and safety net. The fact that there's this disgusting pile of old white men riding everybody else's misery, well what else is new?
Just as I have a sacred heart tattoo on my back, behind my own heart, I can still feel the Virgin Mary. That's why people see her on toast and in water stains. We feel her.
When I focus, I can feel the prayers of all of the women on both sides of my lineage going back I don't know how many years. They prayed for me centuries before I was born. This is a subtle thing, and I'm sure many Catholics never notice it; for most, Catholicism is, as I said, about keeping the neighborhood functioning. But once you do notice the underlayment, it's incredible. It abides.
The house I bought in Chicago was set back a little off the street. Passersby often perceived an invitation to chuck their trash over my fence into that "empty" spot called my tiny yard. I stopped that shit cold by putting a statue of the Virgin Mary there with a white rose bush on either side. The "screeching halt" was amazing, because bottom line, no Mexican or Pole is going to throw trash at her, period.
My namesake, Teresa of Avila, was a master of the collective unconscious. Despite her complicated maneuvering through the Inquisition, she is still a role model of resistance, for me anyway. She's my patron saint -- and no, we don't update that to matron saint, go figure. Anyway, I automatically leverage the "Teresa" crew going back a millenium or so, as did my namesake grandmother. It's a little difficult to articulate what I get from that sorority. It's in the ethers.