One question, a lifetime of questioning

As a young girl, I attended the Academy of the Sacred Heart. It was during those formative years in Kindergarten through 2nd grade. It was during 2nd grade, in 1970 when I became acutely aware of the inconsistencies in the faith I was being instructed in. I had questions!

I digress, We returned to class in the fall of 1970, our uniforms neatly pressed, hemmed and ready for a year of college prep style of educating. Even at the elementary grade level; students had separate classes for each subject. Some subjects were daily, where others were once or twice weekly. We were taught foreign languages as early as 2nd grade too. Like I said, college prep.

Being at a parochial (Roman Catholic) school, there was heavy focus on theology. So we were taught things about the bible, parables and other stories, saints and even places that had no address, like purgatory and limbo; places reserved for the damned and unbaptized until God to accept/forgive them and bring them into his fold...behind the pearly gates. Even when explained, those 'places' had an otherworldly kind of sense to them. No one's ever gone and come back. No location, much like Heaven itself, a place only imagined by mere mortals.

Back to the Fall of 1970. Once instructed that these 'places' no longer applied and St. Christopher was no longer a Saint, I began to question things. I raised my hand, and upon permission to speak from Sister Elizabeth Fitzgerald, I remarked "I thought God was infallible?"

The wrath of the Sisters from that point on was intense, to say the least. From that day forward, I was often accused of talking in class, passing notes or anything that may be reason enough to sustain yardstick marks on the back of the legs and hands; regardless if I were guilty or not. I was placed in front of a large plate glass window on the 2nd floor of the school during a tornado warning to see, as one of the sisters noted, "the wrath of God" while all the other girls were cowering under desks, in closets and the bathroom down the hall. My parents were called almost daily about my 'abhorrent' behavior, as I continued to question the validity of many things taught. I was the bane of their existence, a free thinker, and critical too. I didn't understand why we had to go through 'rituals' like communion, baptisms and such if what we were being taught wasn't necessarily true! They Nuns did all they could to crush my spirit, short of beating it out of me.

It didn't hurt that I was very outspoken at that age and had no qualms about being honest. I'm still that way.

None the less, this left an indelible mark on my life and the way I approach religion.I see the rituals of most religions as a form of 'jumping through hoops' to PROVE your faith in something that most likely isn't real. No one has proven the existence of Adam and Eve, but people believe that the world was created 5000 years ago. Lies in the bible start with the very first chapters! Why on earth would anyone believe any of the rest as 'truth'?

Before you admonish me, know two things. First, I am a good person, and 'faith' in religion is not why. I believe in the good of the common man, what I do reflects my character, and my word is all I have. So, I try my best to be right and honest with all that I meet. Second, your opinion, just like mine, is welcome as long as you agree to disagree without belittlement or badgering and harassment.