Growing Up Catholic in a Small Texas Town: Exorcists Exist
For years, I used to tune out in church when the priest began his homily. I’d enter my daydream world. I got some excellent writing down that way. But since the goal in a Catholic’s life is to become a better person, and since I write murder mysteries, which seem sacrilegious to ponder during Mass, I’ve recently decided to try and focus on the sermon. Not only is it good for my soul, but wrangling in my brain is a great mental exercise. Here are a few things I’ve learned lately by listening.
- I gotta get myself to the Holy Land. On another Sunday, our priest gave a sales pitch. Our Catholic Church sponsors a trip to the Holy Land each year, and he encourages us to go. Of course, I didn’t. The parishioners who went returned with ethereal looks, like they knew something I didn’t, and that something was pretty darn incredible. I asked one of them what it was like over there, and she just told me I had to see for myself, and then she winked. I hate it when someone knows a secret and flaunts it. The trip to the Holy Land is not cheap. If I went, I’d select the single occupancy price because I would not spend two and a half weeks sharing a room with someone I barely know. Since saving that much money is difficult, I’ve decided to pray a little more. With the violence happening now in the Holy Land, I need to pray a lot more—not for my trip, but for the victims.
- God likes mountains. During another homily, I learned that many miraculous things happened on mountaintops during biblical times. God spoke to the apostles on Mount Tabor, and Jesus chose this location for his transformation. Then the priest asked if we had heard God’s voice from a mountaintop. I started thinking about my acute acrophobia and how I hated being near the mountains. I can appreciate their beauty, but even the thought of driving up a mountain road brings anxiety attacks. Then I started wondering if I was possessed, that the devil didn’t want me anywhere near a mountain. But that can’t be true. Surely, God speaks to us from other geographic locations, like the beach. I love the beach. I love the sight, sound, and smell of the beach. I love the taste of saltwater on my tongue and the feel of dried salt on my skin. It feels like the holiest place on earth. But, wait—the Sea of Galilee! Jesus walked on water!
- I don’t have to understand to understand. Our pastor was on a retreat, and a substitute priest took over for two weeks. He was from another country: Italy, or Portugal, or Honduras, or maybe Ecuador. I wasn’t sure because his accent was heavy. No problem. I just leaned forward and listened closely. He spoke for about fifteen minutes, rather long for a Sunday homely. I understood about every third word. So, the following Sunday, I sat closer to the front to eliminate the slight echo in church. It was another long but rapturous sermon, and I really enjoyed it because this priest was so animated. He was excited and happy. The look on his face went from amazement to wonder to astonishment to ethereal. He threw his arms in the air, his eyes grew wide, and his smile was breathtaking. Whatever he was saying must have been full of hope. His passion was so contagious that I wanted to stand up and yell, “Amen!” to whatever he said.
- There really are exorcists. I didn’t know priests had to attend training at the Vatican to become exorcists. I also thought that much of what happened in the movie was bogus. Not true! One Sunday, our priest mentioned an exorcist named Father Carlos Martin. My ears perked up. Our priest didn’t go into detail about exorcisms, but I couldn’t wait to get home and Googled Father Carlos. This guy is hugely popular, as you can probably guess. I watched a few of his YouTube videos and interviews. This video gave me nightmares. I made sure my Holy Water supply hadn’t dried up, and then I rushed to confession. Father Carlos Interview
Truthfully, though, the more I learn about the Catholic religion, the more questions I have.