Yeah, OK, "Devout Catholic" is great, "Young Catholic" is great, "Chastity" is great.
But give me a break.
This is from The Chastity Project ...
“The first few months we dated, I never knew he drank. I would have never guessed it because, after all, he went to mass every Sunday. One time, he invited me to go out with his friends. He kissed me when he was drunk. I felt so dirty after. No girl grows up dreaming one of her first kisses would be in a dive bar with a wasted boyfriend."
The article goes on to point out the dangers of alcoholism and binge drinking, and God bless them for that. But the above quotation, which the author claims is from a "true story, retold with permission" reeks of the kind of Unreality that you only find at suburban Masses.
I'm assuming the "retelling" is what makes me retch. I hope so. If it's a direct quote, we're in trouble.
I mean, are there really young Catholic women who think that going to weekly Mass means absolutely anything at all when it comes to judging someone's character, or even how serious a person is about his Faith? And are there real people who really say, "He kissed me when he was drunk. I felt so dirty after."???
How far this is from Reality - from any maturity, from anything but a weird kind of 1950's version of a Hallmark movie - this is what bothers me. Yes, alcoholism is a problem, and chastity is a key virtue, and it's great that some Catholics take their Faith seriously ... but this is not an example of taking your Faith seriously. This is not an example of being "mature in Christ".
This is an example of a puerile banality that is far more make-believe than fiction.
And even if this is a fictional quotation, made up by the author, we're still in trouble. On what planet does this kind of contrived and artificial approach to life and dating actually work? Who is this quotation trying to reach, trying to appeal to?
And, by the way, why on earth would you go to a "dive bar" if getting kissed there is so offensive to you?
It would kind of be like this ...
The first few months we dated, I never knew she was a guy in drag. I mean, she carried a rosary. The hairy legs were a give away, but still. And then when she lifted up her skirt and showed me her mail genitalia at that gay bar on the East Side ... well, who wants your first glimpse of the naked flesh of your lover to be at a seamy gay bar on the East Side? I felt so cheap. No guy grows up fantasizing about his first moment of intimacy occurring at a gay bar on the East Side.
... only worse, only more stupid, only more mindless, only more inane.
Maybe the world doesn't hate us because we're Christian. Maybe it hates us because we're stupid and incredibly narcissistic.