Monday

Do I look like I need to be saved? - Part II

I have been thinking about religion a lot this weekend; I was even asked if I wanted to go to mass. Why? Why would you ask me that? Especially if you know me. I can understand that maybe if we just met you might feel inclined to extend an invitation, as a way of being friendly. However, do you not stop and think that maybe I'm not religious, or that I might be of a different faith or have a completely different belief system?

It seems that people who have been immersed in a certain religion believe that its ok to encourage others around into the church, or into the religion of their choice. Notice I said " their choice". Some of you might see it as an innocent invite; an invitation that can be easily tried down in a polite and graceful way. *I* however find it offensive, and annoying - I suppose years of brain-washing at the hands of a Roman Catholic education kinda makes me bitter.

I'm not Catholic. I made that choice many years ago. I was the only in my year that didn't partake of the communion at mass on Fridays; I was the only who did not get Confirmed, and I was the only to get kicked out of Religious Education class. I made my chioce then, and I have not changed now.

I'm Wiccan.

Many of you might not know that. It's just something that I find personal. I feel no need to tell every person I meet. I feel no need to ask others to just me in practice of my belief system. I'm not at all ashamed of it, but it is private and personal to me. Just me.

Faith is a private matter. Its not meant to be sold, preached, pushed on others, or used as an excuse for behavior or ease of conscious.

He did come and see me today. The man who placed that obnoxious card in my hand. He was will never make that mistake again.

He asked me what I thought about it, and although I had a whole speech ready for him , I left it with this -

- I'm Wiccan. We don't believe in saving other souls, we believe in making peace with the one's we already have; our own. "

With that he left. Maybe we will talk again, and maybe not. His loss, not mine.