Lola always brings me, sometimes with my cousins, to our old cathedral when I was younger (until grade 2). I often try hard to be attentive to the mass. I felt kind of “holy” when I’m inside the church. I felt enlightened, oftentimes condemning the noisiness and inattentiveness of my two male cousins. Yes, I felt righteous.

As I grow older, going to mass required so much effort. I never woke up early just to go to church. In the afternoon, my favorite shows were on TV. Months passed that I don’t go to mass, and this without guilt.

I’ve become critical of what priests say during mass. I sometimes felt that, surely, they must have gotten what the Bible said incorrectly. I’ve become watchful of their inconsistencies or their lack of logic. I’ve lost trust in them as I heard the “misbehaviors” of the priests. During those times, sexual harassment cases against them have been the fashion. Besides, I have two friends with fathers as priests. I do not think that it is wrong for priests to have a wife and a child. But I definitely think it wrong to fool people that they uphold their vow of chastity and definitely wrong to deny their children. That’s plain mean.

I found the people going to mass hypocritical. The teenagers stand near the exits or entrances of the church when there are so many seats in the middle. It’s either they were “displaying” or “looking.” I know, because my schoolmates are some of these insincere teenagers. Some of the adults seemed to forget to listen to the mass, with their necks rotating 180 degrees to talk to a kumadre and a kumpadre seating at the row behind. Don’t let me start with the conversations I hear inside the church.

Despite all these, I never lost faith in God. I perceived myself as spiritual rather than religious, as I hear American celebrities often say. I’ve been disillusioned in organized religion, seeing it as detrimental to my spiritual health. I go to church when there’s no mass, as I felt more intimate with Him when there are no priests and parishioners. Heck, I even went to church everyday after high school class, praying for my father’s life. The truth is, I felt that there was something wrong about the institution, but not the religion.

Late last year, I started going to mass again, in the afternoon. I was actually inspired by the masses I regularly attend in a small Methodist church for the year or so. The pastors are very warm, shaking the hands of all the people and taking time to ask them about their lives, and always have a ready smile for everyone. The parishioners are always attentive to the masses and are active with all church activities. The children and the adolescents participate in masses, oftentimes leading the choir. And they do not mind me going to their masses, although I do not share the same religious affiliation.

I decided to revisit my Catholic ties. There’s this small chapel near my work that I started going to every Sunday. The church has limited electric fan, so it’s pretty hot inside. They do not have enough instruments for the choir, so there are times when the church songs are a cappella. They have defective loud speakers, so listening to lectors requires effort. They actually had fund-raising for the speakers: a 1-peso ticket for a laptop. They sold tickets for a year, I guess. Too bad, I did not win (I could have replaced my virus-ridden laptop caused by my virus-ridden flash memory), but with the support of the people, the church has upgraded to more audible speakers.

The parishioners are mostly from the lower class, belonging to the community near the church. The people usually walk to the church, wearing simple but appropriate clothes. They listen intently to the priests and sing with the choir. After mass, the children run toward the priest, and he touches the forehead of every kid. Eduard, when I took him with me when he was here in Manila, was really happy when the priest recognized his presence when I urged him to go to the priest. He was beaming.