A Little Word on Religion

Something I find it hard to adapt to a country in which its people call themselves Catholic, but when it comes time to practice their religion, they scoff off the idea as if they are forced to pick up their dog’s poop off the sidewalk. 

We once had a guest over for dinner. He was a friend (more or less if we want to put a label on it) of my host mom’s. He told me that French people are only Catholic three times in their lives: at birth, marriage, and death. I found it ambitious to be able to call yourself a Catholic if you are technically only a Catholic for three days of your life, but chose not to argue with him on what he thought dictated his religion. 

A few weeks ago, a friend from class told me that on Ash Wednesday, French people kept going up to her to tell her that there was something on her forehead. They then drew to the conclusion that she must be Indian. 

When I was in Rome three weeks ago, I was shocked but in awe of how seriously the Italians took their religion. On Palm Sunday, almost everyone we passed by carried a palm branch. People there seemed happier, like they were more optimistic of what came their way although their economy was in far worse shape than the French. 

I then asked myself what could possibly be so unfortunate that the French seem to find it all the merrier to complain as freely as water flows? Could it be that they have been so jaded by the grandeur and magnitude of their city after spending too much time living here? 

I found myself smiling less here because it’s almost like I’m forced to. I see all the bleak expressions and instantly feel like I must adapt. 

Lately, I opened my Bible again. It’s been a guiltily amount of time since I last did so, but I’m so glad I did. Being immersed with the all too far familiar ritual of passage reading brought back an overwhelming rush of euphoria and calmness that I hadn’t felt in a while. 

I knew that it would be a challenge to adapt to the language and culture here, but never twice did I have to question the religion. I wish I could share with everyone here how cathartic it can feel to actually practice what you preach.  

Here’s to my final weeks of living joyfully and generously in this elegant city of lights.