Cafeteria Catholic: Is a Gay Catholic Really a Catholic?

They say I’m a “Cafeteria Catholic,” they being everyone who’s a little less gay and a little more self righteous. A Cafeteria Catholic, because I “pick and choose” what I believe in, religion wise. If this is the case, maybe I’m a cafeteria music aficionado. I’m not a fan of hardcore rap, nor do I care for the boom ch boom ch boom ch music. Maybe I’m a cafeteria Mets fan. I was never a big fan of Piazza, even before the trade to the Padres. Maybe I’m a cafeteria Spaniard, no me gusta paella. Maybe I’m a cafeteria American, I think our legal system is preposterous. Maybe I’m a cafeteria macaroni and cheese enthusiast, hate the parmesan drizzle and fontina use. And it’s not just me. How about all those New Yorkers who love the United States, but HATE New Jersey? You go to the cafeteria and you pick and choose what you like. There’s always exceptions. You may hate the cafeteria, but they make the best mashed potatoes you’ve ever had in your mouth. Or maybe you love the cafeteria, but hate that their dessert selection consists of just fruit salad and carrot cake. You need more variety and hate the limits here… So that’s what I have to say about “cafeteria” crap.

Yes, I’m a big lesbian, but that doesn’t make my roots simply dissolve. I was a Catholic school girl from four til 17. That’s more than half of my life right there. And yes… the religion, much like the curriculum, was learned. It didn’t give me much of a choice. It’s just easier to pass a test if you believe what you’re being taught. And if I had been taught Judaism, maybe I would be a Jew. All religions have redeeming qualities. You can raed other things and then question but 13 years of something is hard to unlearn. Get me in a pair of skates and put a hockey stick in my hand, and no matter how much time has passed, I’ll still go Mighty Ducks on your ass.

I can go back and question everything I’ve learned and mabye I have. A simple “well, if they’re close-minded enoguh to believe all homosexuals end up in hell, maybe they’re wrong about other things.” And I’m sure they are. But I’m not branding myself by having faith in this religion. It’s not the be all end all. Just like I say I love FRIENDS, but can’t see why Phoebe was on the show, I can say I’m Catholic but don’t think that gay people go to hell for that. And yeah, maybe it IS easier to just have this Catholic faith and then pick and choose what I agree with, but if I didn’t…If I gave up my faith because there was none that was perfect I would have to give up everthing that I love but isn’t perfect too.

My dad, the gay hater. My mom, the sap. My sister, the bitch. My brother, the spoiled brat. My girlfriend, the label whore. My best friend Priscila, the motorcyclist. My other best friend Joe, the boy who runs away when drunk. My aunt, the fight picker. My uncle Fito, who is ALWAYS right even when you have the reputable resource to prove that he is wrong. Oh and did I forget to mention my grandma, the beans spiller? Is there anyone perfect enough to not give up?

If I were really going to judge a TV show, it wouldn’t be by a scene, or even an episode. Even the best shows have had some crappy five, 15, 30, or even 60 minutes. I won’t give up on Grey’s Anatomy just because Izzy slept with that idiot Alex during the bomb episode. I just won’t.

There was even this one time I HATED love. Maybe I blogged about that, but I’m still fortunate enough to be here to say, “Hey everybody… love rocks!” Maybe, just maybe, life isn’t as black and white as the bible toters think. Or maybe it is, and maybe we’re all hypocrites. Maybe your dad likes to go to the horse races every now and again, and your mom can’t live without her Fendi purses and your sister has sex with her boyfriend of three years. And your brother, well, he likes to have more than a couple vodka tonics on a Friday night. And you, you big homo, maybe who you are and who you like and who you do really does make you a crappy human being, but who’s to say that the person making all of those accusations… who’s to say that person (me) is better?

The thing is, we don’t know. If we all believe in heaven, maybe we’ll know if and when we get there. If you don’t, then who knows? Until God himself comes down and says, “hey, you! didn’t you read my Word? Don’t you know that the Corinthians, Leviticus, and the Romans tell you homosexuality is a sin? Haven’t you seen the many letters from good ol Paul who hates the gays? Or how about the Corinthians, Exodus, Deuteronomy, Mark, Matthew, Acts, the Romans, the Ephesians, Hebrews, Revelation, etc., that warn against premarital sex? You straight people, you better be virgins. And you with your gambling dad, you see Paul’s letter to the Romans? No Atlantic City or Vegas or horse tracks for him or… hell, it is!”

Until that happens, I’ll enjoy the buffet. Because, if all these things were really buying my one way ticket to hell, then it wouldn’t be the president, who sends people to fight and kill and die, telling us that homos are the world’s poison. It wouldn’t even be priests and bishops, some of which have molested little boys, others like Reverend Canon’s Barlowe and Robinson, the gay religous figures who aren’t sending us off to hell. It would be God himself intervening and telling us we weren’t good Catholics. Now I’m not saying, “go out, get wasted, bet your ass off, sleep with your boyfriend, but go down on your girlfriend, and spend your paycheck on whatever the new expensive fad is.” I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying, play the mega millions on friday, treat yourself to a glass of wine and a cute new shirt, dump your boyfriend and tell your best friend you have a big lesbian crush on her. A little bit of this, a little bit of that.

Because really… who doesn’t love a good buffet?