March 19, 2007
It's taken me seven years, but I've begun to figure it out.
When we were received into the Church, in the year 2000, I was quite naturally disappointed. I had expected the sense of devotion and the light of Truth that I had come to know through Chesterton and Belloc, and what I found was at best secular and self-congratulatory, at worst defiantly anti-Christian. Why were the homilies insipid, and sometimes corrosive of the Faith? Why was the Lesbian nun allowed to run rampant with the so-called RCIA, teaching us feminism and post-modernism, tolerance and moral relativism? Why was this the Church of the Oprah? Why were most members indistinguishable from the polyamorous lot around us? Why was the music always giving us the message, both in harmonics and lyrics, that it's all about us and that everything here is squishy and vague? Why was the art and architecture trying to emulate the local shopping mall? Why were we worshipping a shapeless amoeba rather than Jesus Christ?
I don't give the answer in that journal entry. But I think we know what the answer is.