What do you believe in?

I said goodbye.  I turned in my keys.  I let go of a place I used to call my home away from home, in a way.  I spent a grand total of 28 years giving my attention, love, respect, honor, time, and support to a place I could go to for some serenity.  I loved this place, with all my heart.  I felt that it loved me just as much with all the support I received from whomever worked there and attended there.  But, things change.  People change.  Situations change.   And so, for the first time since 1999, I was no longer familiar with the inner workings of this place.  And, for the first time in my whole life, I never returned there, nor do I have an interest in returning there.  I am no longer nor do I consider myself a part of this place or its community.  So, R.I.P. to my connection to St. Raymond's Parish.


I was brought into St. Raymond's Parish when I was 5 years old.  After two stints in a day care center, I was finally brought into Kindergarten at the school in the parish. I found the experience much more enjoyable than the day care center.  I made new friends (or hoped to) and learned a lot of things there.  While going to the school, I was asked by my parents (mostly Mom) to start going to church every Sunday.  Now, being a kid, and not really interested in leaving the house when I had to, I wasn't really interested in doing so.  However, as I was told by my Mom, eventually I had to go to church every Sunday, especially if I was to receive Holy Communion in 2nd grade.  The church of choice was to be St. Raymond's.  So, to review, I was going to their school and now going to their church.   In all honesty, it didn't really bother me.  Sure, it was a few hours a week, and I didn't mind it.  It made for a cool experience to me.  After Communion, I received Confirmation in 7th Grade.    I became an altar server at the age of 13 and had remained one for about 8  years.  I graduated from grade school a year later in 1996.  It was time to move forward to high school.  I didn't have many choices in mind, but the one that made the most sense was St. Raymond's High School for Boys.


What made this experience something interesting is that it was an all-boys school.  No girls, whatsoever.  Well, this definitely kept my hormones in check, for sure.  It also made me man up a bit and finally put my fears, anxieties, etc. when it came to mingling with my peers.  I survived, but what was changing was my connection to my church.  I was 16 years old and I was still very much into being an altar server.  I would come to the earliest Mass possible as I was and still am an early bird.  The more I came, the more I started to see that the sacristan was getting late opening up.  So, I offered to volunteer to open up for him.  I didn't want to be paid and I didn't want to stay all day. I just wanted to get the ball rolling.  I was given the green light and from then on, I learned the ins and outs in what goes into the behind-the-scenes at church.  It was a cool experience, without a doubt.  As time passed, the sacristan decided to leave the job, as his coming in got more and more sporadic.  I was then called upon by the-then pastor to take his place, payment and all.  I agreed.  Thus began my 14 year journey as a full-time sacristan for my church.


It felt like the most cushiest job I could do, initially.  Yes, there was a lot of running around, and it was my only source of income for a while, with only work study to fill the gaps here and there.  However, I got a great feeling giving back to the parish that gave so much to me.  Plus, it was a way to get out of the house on Sunday.  See, at the time, it was pretty crowded at home, even with a new room added.  As I grew or was growing, home life got very, very stressful.  I'd go into it, but I've done that ad-nauseum at this point to anyone who was listening.  The day of rest was not very restful for yours truly.  Anyhoo, I enjoyed the job because it gave me a way to get closer to God as well as what I mentioned earlier.  It wasn't until 2002 that things would change....


My first pastor, and my employer, was removed from his position due to charges filed against him and his behavior some years ago.  Once gone, a new person came into play.  He was stern, a bit pushy, a might edgy, and very tense.  In his stead, good changes were made, like increased security, and even a "Welcome Tent" for the parishioners to meet up in after Mass was over.  He wasn't so bad, just much more stern.  Then, he was transferred to Staten Island.  In his place came another priest.  He was once a president of a school, and a former pastor of the church I currently go to.  He is also the #1 reason I never want to see my old church again.


I worked with this guy for 10  years.  A decade.  And not once, NOT ONCE, did he have an ounce of respect for me, a really nice thing to say to me, or even appreciate the hard work I put in.  Oh, he cared that I was there. He cared because I didn't fit his mold.  I wasn't easily programmable.  I didn't play by his rules.  Instead of looking like the bad guy and just getting rid of me, he held out and made himself look like an even bigger bad guy.  Everything I did before his arrival was on point and well-complimented by any and all priests.  But, this guy, this guy couldn't care less.  He wanted things his way and his way only.  Give a guy keys to a kingdom, and if he has to make sure that his way is the way to go, then expect some tyranny. He nitpicked virtually everything I did.  He talked down to me, non-stop.  He pushed whatever buttons I had.  If things went slighty different than what he wanted, he would respond very, VERY, negatively.  I've been on the receiving end of being dressed down verbally in front of others, sometimes a lot louder than usual.


And yet, I soldiered on.  Why?  For one, I loved my church.  I wasn't going to quit out of revenge, or resentment towards this guy.  I loved this job and I loved my church.  He wasn't going to ruin it for me.  Two, it was nice to have some extra money in my pocket.  Unfortunately, because I stayed there too long, I now needed the extra money in my pocket.  So, I carried on.  In the process, I developed a lot more anger and resentment.  I developed the habit of talking-down to others, like this boss of mine.  I developed a more condescending, sarcastic manner that wasn't me at all.  It was horrible.  I even brought my stress home with me, alone and with my wife.  The time had finally come to make a change.  After a sit-down with my wife while we ate lunch, she and I decided that it was time to leave this job.


The next day, I called up the boss and told him that I wanted out.  He dismissed it, curtly and negatively.  Wow.  And to top it off, when my day came to say my goodbyes, not only did I not get a pretty heartfelt goodbye, but I got a chintsy gift and a back-handed farewell (I said it was a pleasure just to be nice; he said it was more of a challenge, just to be mean).


I decided to never return to return to that church ever again.  The pain, anger, resentment was just too great.  I chose to let go and find another place to go.  I did, and my Sunday mornings are more peaceful than ever.  I go to a church close to home, and it's just the way I like it.  No obligations, no extra work, nothing.  Just me and Mass.


The 7th day was made for rest.  I chose to work on this day and not rest to serve others.  I got a great feeling doing so.  However, once the circumstances changed, and the authority started to be a burden, my good days were over.  It resembled the type of church that everyone used to judge negatively.  I wanted nothing to do with that church.  It took years, and some coaxing from loved ones, but I finally got out and my days have never been happier.  If nothing happens in God's world by mistake, he wanted me to see just how this church was from the inside, to make sure just what type of life I should be living and leading while going forward.


What do I believe?  I believe that the choices we make will dictate the life we lead.  I also believe that one's interpretation of what they believe is measured by the type of person they have grown into.  It is possible to change that interpretation if one decides to change how they live.  I'm changing and growing and accepting.  This is how I should be and how it should be.


What do you believe in?