I’ve had a little bit of guilty-Catholic-syndrome since I’ve come to the University. Now that I don’t have my parents dragging me out of bed every Sunday morning, my church attendance is lagging. All right, maybe not lagging – for a while I stopped going altogether. It was so easy not to go. The snooze button was inches away from my eagerly searching fingers on those early mornings after late Saturday nights. I’d go to the evening mass, I told myself. But when 6 p.m. and 8 p.m. rolled around, I usually had other things to do. I could do homework, study or read this one book. After all, I did come here to be a student – school work should be priority. While school work is top priority, it usually fell just behind talking to friends, Facebook.com and TV on my immediate priority list those nights. Desperate Housewives wasn’t going to watch itself. But something happened. I could say something corny and inspirational like, “I felt something was missing in my life,” or “I feared for my eternal soul,” but that’s not it. I just got a classic case of Catholic guilt and felt bad. To get rid of the famed uneasiness I went to Mass that week and felt a lot better. I kept on going and my good mood wasn’t quitting. When talking to friends back home about it I used an ever-so-official word and said I was feeling “churchy.” The inspiring homilies made me feel more in control of my life and made me want to do better in all aspects of it. They helped me get my priorities straight. Instead of my Sunday evening chat on the phone followed by watching TV, I go to mass and do my work. Oddly enough, I am much happier – probably because I don’t have a nagging feeling in my chest. Catholic guilt is often made fun of or condemned, but I’ve found it helps more than it hurts. Sure, every now and then I’ll feel bad and contrite over things that are completely out of my control. But if it makes me try to do better I’ll take the guilt in stride.
—-Contact Emily McArdle at [email protected]