Our world is the definition of chaos regarding religion right now. Regardless of what “side” you’re on or what you believe in, discussing anything about it is a mess. Misunderstandings are rampant; ignorance seems to be everywhere; and so many don’t even want to listen. Which is why I’m not going to talk about theology or anything concerning it today. Instead, I want to tell you about something that happened at my school a few hours ago.
I go to a Catholic school, but I’m not Catholic. I feel like that’s the first thing you need to know. The general education aspect of my BFA (along with several writing-based performance classes) comes from a private, four-year Catholic college on Long Island; I live on-campus there, as well. Let me ask you this question now: what comes to your mind when you think of Catholic school? Or Catholicism in general?
For a variety of reasons, a lot of people automatically consider Catholic schools to be the ones where religion is forced onto you, or you have to act, dress, and talk with a certain rigidity (or something) every day. They expect it to be harsh, or all business, or judgmental…things of that nature. I won’t lie: sometimes, in some schools, that’s not wrong. Though I’ve gone to public school my entire precollegiate life, I don’t doubt that, somewhere, there’s a school or two that proves the stereotype. There always is, and there likely always will be.
But that’s not my school. I won’t go into great detail on why, with the exception of this little story.
In the midst of all the hatred and cruelty flowing through our world today, it’s the small things that can really speak to you. A few hours ago, as I was in my room doing homework, I received about five e-mails in a row from my school’s Ministries. We receive fairly consistent and frequent e-mails from Sister Diane—to keep us updated and such—so I wasn’t surprised to see them come across. I don’t normally read through them (yeah, yeah, I know); I’ll just flip through the titles and click on the ones that sound applicable and/or interesting. Today, though, two of them caught my eye. They read: “Happy Rosh Hashanah!” and “Happy Muharram!”. If that weren’t enough to grab my attention, the e-mail did not begin with some generic sentence using “student body” or “students.” It was addressed to “Our Jewish Brothers and Sisters” and “Our Muslim Brothers and Sisters.”
After now-years of horrific headlines regarding religious atrocities, and because of my own morals and beliefs about being kind, respectful, and trying to understand everyone, that really hit me. Here was a devout Catholic individual educating herself and wishing fellow human beings a fantastic spiritual holiday. That seems to get so little attention in our world, and, admittedly, it brought me chills. Three very different religious beliefs combined in those two e-mails. It was such a beautiful thing to witness.
We could all learn a lot from such a simple gesture. Extending a hand to someone in whatever way you can may be the reason they smile through that day. It may be the reason someone changes their mind about something, or survives the year. The realization that we are all human is one that everyone needs to come to, and we need to ask each other well-intended, curious questions in order to understand one another. It’s amazing what such a small thing like wishing another a happy holiday can do. “Brothers and Sisters” is right. Maybe you could consider that an idealized world, but having that mindset could help so much. If a woman who has devoted her life to one religion can love someone committed to another (and that’s the way it should be), then we all can. It’s one of the reasons I love the state and the school I’m studying at, even if there are hard days and weeks: it’s illustrative of what can happen when we respect and love each other.
Be those two e-mails. Please. I wish I had some profound statement to finish this off, but I think the story speaks for itself.
Be kind to each other, guys. Have a good one.
