ash wednesday

Seeing people yesterday with ashes on their forehead made me feel unexpectedly sad. I no longer identify as Catholic, or even theist, but I found myself missing some of the ritual and sense of community this year. Even, or perhaps especially, in my most fervent phases, I had to work hard at belief, but I always liked the more personal rituals of lent: the ashes, the laying on of hands at the healing Mass, the washing of hands (easier than feet) on Holy Thursday. It was easier to feel like maybe I belonged at those times. I think a sense of belonging was what I was after when I tried so hard to believe. In the end, though, it felt too hypocritical and selfish to keep going to church to take what I wanted when I couldn't truthfully give even my participation. I found myself feeling slightly jealous yesterday of those who wore their faith openly on their forehead. I almost wanted to say "I used to be one of you, too, you know". For the same reasons, whenever a discussion of Catholic rules and rituals comes up, I can't help joining in and the couple of times I've been back to church for a wedding, I've enjoyed knowing when to stand up and sit down, too. I think I'm trying to compensate for not belonging by showing that I know all the secret codes and passwords, too, as if anyone was trying to keep me out. In many ways, it was the same when I still went to church. I made a point of knowing how to look like a true believer to cover up the fact that I was missing the faith that made any of it meaningful. Sure, in high school it was cool to disbelieve, but I still envied the believers' secure knowledge that they belonged somewhere.