I HATED THE CHURCH....

 I HATED THE CHURCH —UNTIL I MET HER MOTHER 

There was a time I could barely stand the sight of a crucifix. The sound of bells from a nearby church stirred irritation instead of reverence. Though I had grown up hearing about Jesus and going through the motions of religion, something had grown bitter within me. Maybe it was some hypocrisy I witnessed. Maybe it was gossip and rumors. Maybe it was prayers I thought were unanswered. But looking back, I now know that I had simply drifted so far from the heart of the Church, that I no longer recognized her beauty.

I didn’t leave physically, or even spiritually — I went to Mass on occasion. But my heart wasn't in it. 

I began to be lured by protestant hatred for The Church. I judged the Church as rigid, outdated, and harsh.

The free-wheeling, "feel good" ideas of these churches had an appeal. Being "saved" out of The Church began to seem possible.

I exclaimed that The Church was just a collection of false teachings; I rolled my eyes at its teachings on sin and morality. 

I didn’t understand why the Church seemed obsessed with rules, when all I needed was an often-edited version of the Bible and someone in a Bible-only church to tell me what it meant. 

I wasn’t just apathetic. I was angry. Angry at God. Angry at priests. Angry at my own emptiness. I projected my own falling away onto The Church, telling myself it was cold, distant, and burdensome....and worse, believing my own made up stories. 

But something changed when I stumbled upon Mary — not just the name, not just some statue - but her. Her presence. Her love. Her role.

A GENTLE ENCOUNTER 

It started simply. I saw a friend silently pray the Rosary. The peace on her face contrasted with the chaos in mine. Out of curiosity, I picked up a Rosary myself, more skeptical than faithful. At first, the prayers felt mechanical — “Hail Mary, full of grace...” But something strange began to happen.

As I said those words, as I meditated on the mysteries of Christs life and death which the Rosary focuses on...., my hardened heart began to soften. 

It wasn’t overnight, of course.  I had whipped myself into a deep "Catholic hate frenzy," so it took time to unravel that. But little by little, I felt peace creeping in. I felt like someone was holding my hand —gently, patiently, like a mother would with a wounded child.

I wasn’t ready to return to the Church—but somehow, Mary met me where I was.

MEETING THE MOTHER OF THE CHURCH 

In learning about Mary, I discovered something I had missed my entire life: the Church has a Mother. She is not just an, "institution of men" as the protestants love to endlessly repeat.

Nor is she just a moral compass—rather, she is a family. A very old and long suffering family. And Mary, the Mother of Jesus, is also the Mother of the Church (John 19:26–27).

Through Mary, I encountered the Church not as a list of rules or falsehoods to be spit on, but as a home—a place where I was known, forgiven, and welcomed. The Church didn't scold me for my past. Mary didn’t scold me for my past. I was simply led by them both, always gently, towards her Son.

The teachings of the Church that once felt suffocating or stern began to make sense. They weren’t chains—they were guardrails. I realized that my anger wasn’t truly with the Church—it was with my own wounds, my unmet expectations, my confusion.

A MOTHER'S MISSION: LEAD US TO CHRIST 

Finally the light came on... God CHOSE Mary. Her role in His salvation plan was clear. Mary never points to herself. She always says, like at Cana, “Do whatever He tells you.” Through her, I returned to Confession. I returned to the Eucharist. I returned to hope.

And I discovered that the Church I once hated is the Bride of Christ, loved by Him, protected by Him, and nourished by Him.

COMING HOME 

If you’ve ever felt disillusioned by the Church, you’re not alone. If you have been taught what to think about the Church, second or third hand by her haters and enemies...dont be quick to assume you know the Church.

And don’t walk away without first opening yourself up to meeting her Mother. Mary has a way of reaching hearts that are angry, broken, or numb. She never forces—she simply loves.

I fell in to a hole of hatred for the Church — both of my making and under the influence of those who wilfully hate her. Then I opened my mind and heart enough to meet her Mother. And now, through the example set by Mary, I love the Church because I see her for what she truly is: a wounded but beautiful bride, carrying within her the presence of Christ Himself.

Reflection

Have you allowed Mary to lead you home yet?

If not, could it be time to open up to that?

And if you refuse, whose refusal is that?

Your own? Christ's? Maybe the true enemy of The Church - satan?

Francis Mary, via Clive Fernandez, edited