Christmas, faith, questions and frogs

Tonight I participated in what has become something of a tradition in my family. My father (a much lapsed Anglican) and I took my quietly, but of very strong faith, catholic Mum to midnight mass. This year - for the first time in many years, it was actually held at midnight (the elderly Catholic priest who presided for many years over a 7:30 mass having retired and been replaced by a surprisingly young man who is fully capable of making it to midnight!).

Its rather an awkward experience. Going along with the bits that I find relatively unoffensive to my sensibilities and standing mute for the bits I just cannot agree with (which is frankly just about everything bar the carols). It's particularly interesting at a true midnight mass because pretty much everyone else is there because they actually believe. But it is an important show of solidarity, my father honouring a promise her made when he married her to take her to church whenever she wanted to go (which in the past has meant long bush pilgrimages and facing disapproval and contempt from 'the church'), and me, showing my mother that while I cannot believe as she does I respect her faith.

Tonight was particularly interesting. The new priest has brought back certain old traditions that have been allowed to lapse under his aged and enfeebled predecessors tenure. There were 'alter boys' (girls actually in a heartening show of progressiveness), the priest sang the benediction over the bread and wine (and the man can SING! He has a wonderful tenor - though at times he struggled to compete with the frogs taking advantage of the rain), and there were other things that my unfamiliarity with the traditions mean I missed but my mother appreciated.

I am currently reading 'Infidel - my life' by Ayaan Hirsi Ali which describes her life growing up in Islamic Somali during the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood. It details the authors personal journey of faith, disillusionment with Islam and ultimately religion and her exile from her homeland and the constant threat of assassination she faces for her public repudiation of Islam and in particular its treatment of women.

The juxtaposition of the ritual Christian Christmas rites and the struggle of the Somali teenager to find meaning in the rituals of Islam brought many considerations to mind. As a teenager myself, attending an Anglican school, I found the rituals very seductive, but the church (through its priests, brothers and deacons) failed to offer any real context and their inability to offer any explanation of the questions I had - it was a school after all, they should have had the capacity to offer more than 'it is not your place to question' and because that is the way of god' to offer inquiring young minds. My questions were in many ways the same questions Ayaan was asking in Somalia, questions that I found myself tonight wondering if those seated around me had ever bothered to ask, even of themselves. Catholics of course seem often to be the worst of the timecard Christians - clocking in on Sunday, taking absolution as guaranteed while acting in very unchristian ways for the rest of the week.

My mother has always had faith. She questioned, and found her answers. She has been disillusioned with 'the church', but has always lived a very Christian life - which cannot have been easy with our the less than faithful (to god, not her) family. I have never heard her swear, she offers friendship, kindness, compassion and charity within her means with no expectation of personal gain.  But once a year she visits her god in his house, celebrating his birthday and taking something that I cannot fathom, but to her is very real, home with her to sustain her faith. I know that others judge her for not being in regular attendance. But I know that she lives a far more Christian life than many of them. That is the great lesson that I have learned from observing my mother's faith - what is important (in God's eyes or the worlds) is what you DO, not what you say or are seen to do. The Christian all knowing, all seeing God will surely know the difference between a faithful servant who worships quietly but does his wishes faithfully and true and one who ritually stamps the timesheet while living a less than Christian life.

It's a thought that even comforts me - who has no faith - that for my mother, should she turn out to be right, there will be just recognition of her life.

For myself, I refuse to even pay lip service. I do not participate in prayer, I barely pay attention to he readings or the sermon. But in respect to those who care, I sit and stand quietly with them, accept and return their offers of peace and goodwill, and offer my voice to the traditional carols. Their God isn't mine, but I am a polite visitor in his house.

And so Christmas is here. And the Grinch is in abeyance for the moment. I will take advantage of the opportunity to spend time with family I see nowhere near enough. I will indulge in a few glasses of wine, rather too much food, and an orgy of reading (yay for my father's library!).

Enjoy your holidays folks. May it be everything that you wish it to be.