Religion and Me

I was baptised a Roman Catholic back in 1952, a time when televisions were tiny black and white things that people crowded around. Trams ferried shoppers to and fro, and streets were full of kids playing postman's knock. Teddy boys stood around on street corners with their hair greased slick, and Elvis Presley blared out from radios in every house.

I went to Church every Sunday, just the same as everybody did, and we wore our best clothes too and bowed our heads as Priests filled us with the fear of God. Every family had to be seen to attend Sunday Services, and morality was held in high esteem, at least outwardly.

Eventually, as I grew into my long trousers, I was volunteered to serve the Church as an Altar Boy, a position which meant I attended Church every morning at 7.00 prompt for morning service, and I felt proud to be so associated as the reflected esteem upon my Mother seemed to please her.

I eventually moved to higher duties as I was taught to read music and was given the honour of moving from the High Altar to the Organist position, were I mastered the fearsome multi keyboard instrument and played to accompany the choristers at weddings, funerals and High Mass.

I believed in God and His Works as fervently as anyone, then I enlisted to the Infantry, and served for fifteen years, during which I was witness to much inhumanity.

After that my faith dissipated along with my skills as a organist.

Now, in this space age world I look about at empty churches, Paedophile Priests, mistrust and violence that pervades our societies, I see beheadings paraded on social media for the sick amusement of the hidden few and I stand before a mirror and look upon the wreckage of our lives and our empty streets and I weep for the days of old.