Potion Unknown

Must purpose be purposefully planted?

I intended on sharing this story inside the Memos From Mass I wrote coming out of the children’s service I attended on January 21st. I go to this beautiful event every week at our nation’s oldest church (and roots). My mind fills with such heavy thoughts, often stitching together so much we discuss over here in Techtopia, that I decided to just start letting them flow within that project, much like I do my threads on X. But I decided to take this one portion of last week's out to share with those of you not inside that room (yet ;-). It carries the spirit of both this piece below and the one that came out of the week following.

I was at a neighbor’s house a few months back. Calm day; gorgeous weather; a few couples had gathered with our kids at the home with a pool. The mother who owns the home is a good friend of ours and someone we’ve gotten to know well. She reminds me so much of the type of girls who used to kick it with my crew in DC as a teenager. We get along fantastically as 40-something parents. Not surprising to me considering the cultural pedigree, most of her friends are kind of flower-children. There is a core local group as they all went to high-school together. It’s cool to watch friendships that old; see their kids now interacting while they still hang out and laugh at old jokes. I’ve become friendly with all of them and gotten to know their individual dynamics rather well. And them in reverse; we spend a lot of time sitting around fires and talking about life and kids and parenting and everything. Most of us blaze too, so these convos can get high-level.

On this day, I ended up in a one-on-one with a mom younger than me who I adore. She has an almost-teen daughter and a boy about my son's age. So our families match, basically. She is quintessential to this posse. Highly Educated; very cultured; well read; brilliantly spoken; fascinating to engage with; such a warm and inviting light. I’ve hung out with these kind of souls since I was just a young teen myself. I stomped around with roughnecks back then too, which is something that sets me apart from this group of folks, but philosophically I think we’ve walked very similar paths. None of these couples have traditional faith in their lives; put differently, none of them practice religion. We don’t talk about that too much, but it comes up because my daughter is so heavily involved in church. And not just any church; this church. In a town where that giant wooden cross is still what dominates the skyline. The community here still elevates and weaves itself around that church energy. So my daughter is plugged into something special here, and of course this is a key current to a lot of my writings. I talk about my “mid-life crisis” endeavor with these friends, even though none of them know of Theo Jordan.

I had come that day from an event at the basilica which was really special. I must have been describing it and my babygirl's involvement and how this was all such a positive and made her so happy. How it was basically a nest for her. You can see how this began a segue. I forget how we bridged as we don’t really poke and prod much as a group just chilling. But we engaged directly on how I was raising my daughter within the church, how she had taken to the Bible so profoundly, and how that’s a curious posture from someone who still proclaims himself a nonbeliever. I don’t have any qualms still calling myself an atheist. I don’t believe in the existence of gods anymore today than I did when younger. It’s the understandings I thought I had (in place) which have shattered so profoundly in the last decade. I now appreciate the term agnostic more and don’t openly rebuff it like I did when I was more immature. That’s the framing that has changed, not my core tenets themselves.

This duality is understandably interesting to her. I think it’s a somewhat unique posture in our society right now; at least insofar as those willing to bullhorn it like I do. I not only see the benefit of planting my children in Catholic soil, I’ve seen it so clearly that I spend most days writing and talking about it. We spend most days around that cathedral and its community. I live what I write and I write what I live. But I still feel like an outsider at the groundfloor layer. I’ve written about that both within Reflections and in the first Memos essay. This allows me to engage a mind like hers from a position of neutrality (and from her perspective, honesty). She reached out to me intellectually that afternoon. I felt it.

I could tell what was driving the conversation was a genuine concern she was harboring. Her kids are in public-school and her daughter is at that uber impressionable age. Everything is a sponge! What is her water? Seeing me so content in where my own was planted made her question where she has chosen to locate her treasure. But if it were this easy philosophically, our wonderful people wouldn’t be bogged down in such quicksand. I can promise this isn’t an easy intellectual path because I have walked it. I stare up at that art on those hollowed walls and sometimes feel I know less today than ever before. I intend to soon read Confessions. I want to understand what made Augustine return to books he once rejected. I want to grasp how rejection becomes the greatest writer in Catholic history. I want to see if I can complete the mental puzzle of how and why I ended up at his shrine, and whether this is connected to my life purpose. It’s also connected to the Holy Grail of thought I intend to start pursuing for real, with a group of you - the most mentally impressive people I’ve ever met. Look forward to these coming Roundtable discussions. They are all in this pocket.

So I had finished articulating why I am so satisfied - relieved! - to have my daughter planted where she is when my friend straight-up popped a dagger of a question. It launched right into what I’m doing to my daughter basically being a form of indoctrination and doesn’t that make me uncomfortable. If that question makes you uncomfortable, then you had to be there. This was genuine and welcomed, not accusatory or ugly. We vibe at a deep layer of understanding and candor. She was genuinely digging in her mind. Ball on tee for me, baby! Look at the name of this piece…

Oh yeah, it is unquestionably a form of indoctrination. The heavy stuff! But you’ll note I said “a form of”, because this is far from the only kind. I didn’t need to press heavy into Gender ideology and the peversion of education into SEL and Sexuality-cult stuff for her to understand what I’m laying down there. I saw the cognitive dissonance pulling on her face. I eased the tensions. I told her these aren’t easy answers, even for me. That even as I tell her my stance so confidently, I stand on shaky ground. Not only because my own positions have logical inconsistencies, but I’ve misled both my children as to what they are. I’m big on intellectual honesty and I’m not honoring it to the two most important people in the world. The two I am tasked to teach principles such as honesty. Chew on that! But understand, my family lies to my kids about Santa Claus. Here’s the kicker: her family? They don’t. They don’t do the mythology around Mr. White Beard and that magical sled, even though they partake in the holiday fun. This logic ties together, folks. I’m not casting judgment in either direction. These rivers tend to flow the same, however. I dove deeply into Christmas philosophically not that long ago for a reason. It really has my mind; Happy Holidays and all.

This was no debate. It was a discussion amongst friends and truly caring parents. Both sets of kids are darn lucky to have the four of us at the helm. They won the life lottery! But if I had to declare a winner, I think my position felt a lot stronger and carried a lot more water that afternoon. It never got framed as a winner/loser though, so we just kind of ended eventually and drifted back to the pool and what everyone else had been talking about. We ended on one line though that is probably the main reason I wanted to share this. She almost acknowledged my framing had made more sense in her body language at the end. So she fires back at me before we conclude: “But isn’t it basically brainwashing? Telling kids they’ll go to hell?” I had to hit this ball…

Yes, my friend, that’s exactly what it is. cue look of horror It’s more than that, I continue. I myself am told I am going to hell. Literally. Oftentimes in service there are words spoken that without sugar coating say I will burn in hell instead of ascending to heaven if I don’t pursue my sacraments and receive communion. If I don’t agree to “Read the book” and be subservient to it. I have so far refused such demand. I don’t pray, kneel, or approach the altar for communion. My daughter asks me when I’ll get baptized and I tell her it’s a question I cannot answer right now. We’re drawing closer to the point where I will have to be more honest with her about my own theology or lack thereof. I’ve known this horizon would one day be in front of me since we made the choices we did decades ago to allow a devout Catholic and a nonbeliever to build family together.

“I could never do that.” head shakes; mind completely shut down I understand, I spoke back softly. And I said that sincerely. I am surely not judging nor even proclaiming I have it right for all. Or for her. We have it right for us. There is no community anywhere else in America I would remove these anchors to place elsewhere right now. But the only salve or offering cannot be demands for dogmatic fealty or requirements to join a church. It not only violates our core principles which founded this exceptional country, it pushes a certain type of mind away. Important minds and good people who are essential to the American quilt. It pushes me away too. I recognize the glaring contradictions I leave on the table here. I intend to explore them. I hope many of you will continue being part of that process with me. I am developing my own worldview in real-time. Walking what I write and writing what I walk. I am not arrogant enough to think the finish line here is me answering The Great Unknowns. Not sure any of us are capable of that. But I do believe I possess a unique set of tools to try and help find our society some new landing place options. I know even that quote sounds silly to some. But the ardently faithful need to understand and appreciate how radicalized several generations of American youth have been against the church as an institution. Fair or not, it is what it is. Yes, the new crop of youth are returning hard to the underlying principles. But tell them they must “Read the book!” or they can’t have a seat at the table and you’ll push them all away. That’s not the landing place I’m interested in.

Your child is going to be indoctrinated by something. Teaching and even parenting itself is a form of this verb. You must choose, but choose wisely.