By Dolly Jane Ranises
It goes with different colors, sizes and length but it is has only one shape, sphere. It may be made of plastic, wood or metal beads. These beads are interconnected to each other through a string and they must not be separated as it is an indication of bad luck and misfortune. Some of these have a certain fragrance which is released when you open its box while some are not. No matter what this thing looks like, no matter how perfumed it is, no matter how expensive this thing is: it only symbolizes one thing, that is being devoted and faithful to the religion. This is the rosary.
When I was six, I would always see my mother holding the rosary tightly while praying. She would enthusiastically invite me to join her. As a kid, during that time innocent, I perceived it not as an invitation but as a command of an authority. So I would join her trying to be obedient. However, it became a habit to me to pray with her as she would influence me saying that “Women must learn and be experts in praying the rosary because they are the ones who would always lead the prayer.”
When I was ten, I already knew that I belonged to a religious family. my mother was a rosary devotee and my father was reading the bible everyday and obliged the family to attend Sunday mass. I defined religious as being very devoted to the church, would celebrate every Christian feast as assigned by the Catholic Church, and memorizing every chapter and verse of the bible. Our family would go to church together every Sunday and would pray the rosary before the Christmas Day and New Year’s Day approach as my mother initiated these activities. I was raised this way because our family especially my mother believes that “the family prays together stays together.” This may sound very cliché but it kept our family together for a certain period of time. This also maintained our tight family relationship through her untiring and never ending religious beliefs. While growing up, I was able to adapt this kind of belief. All the goodness in life was thought and implemented to me. As my innocence was bombarding me, I followed those preaches to remain righteous.
I had this foolish attitude during my childhood boasting to my childhood friends how perfect my family is and comparing my family’s achievement to their family’s imperfection. I was very harsh during that time and very idealistic about the things around me. Though I had consistent playmates, I felt that they thought of me as spoiled brat who was so proud of her family that she seemed to forget the values taught to her. I was not that righteous after all.
When I saw my father nagging and hitting my Kuya with belt because he failed his academic performance my idealistic perception about my family reversed. My mother did not even attempt to stop his unmerciful action to my Kuya. I tried to stop my father but he seemed just to hear me but not listening to me. I could still recall the scenes of that event. The belt was leather with a brown surface. My Kuya was on the bed’s right corner trying to avoid the painful hit of the belt. He was crying and screaming at the same time. I also cried because of pity and empathy.
I was more discouraged than fearful to my parents’ deed during that time. Discouraged of the learning they taught us about being religious. My perceptions to them altered. My expectations to them as being religious were slowly fading. If they were religious and righteous, then why would he beat his son and why would she allow her husband to beat his son just because of a failing grade. But I never hated them for breaking the perfection I believed in religiousness while I was growing up.
I learned from this event that I must strive hard so that I would excel academically. I must make sure that I do not only have passing grades but top grades to make them proud. Because I know that I do not want to physically and emotionally experience what my Kuya had experienced. I do not desire to come in contact with the same belt which hit his flesh and made a scar on his legs.
But the major insight of this event is that religiousness is not proportional to perfection which leads to righteousness. That my family is not perfect and righteous just because we are practicing acts of religiousness. And that being religious does not prevent my parents from committing a sin of beating my Kuya and hurting my feelings for doing it. Thus, my family is not righteous after all. We are not a perfect family that people look up to.
Lastly, the religiousness of my family can sometimes be hypocrisy. Hypocrisy of being sinless and flawless of any mistakes when in fact all of us are sinful. Hypocrisy of being too good that claims perfection and righteousness. Hypocrisy of devotion to the religion that one is really dedicated and committed to it and showing to the world that he is a righteous person. Because of this I become afraid to be religious as I am scared of being hypocrite. It does not also lessen my beliefs to God and that religiousness does not measure my capabilities as a Christian. I could say that faith and religiousness are two different aspects because one can be faithful to God, that is spirituality.
When I was six, I would always see my mother holding the rosary tightly while praying. She would enthusiastically invite me to join her. As a kid, during that time innocent, I perceived it not as an invitation but as a command of an authority. So I would join her trying to be obedient. However, it became a habit to me to pray with her as she would influence me saying that “Women must learn and be experts in praying the rosary because they are the ones who would always lead the prayer.”
When I was ten, I already knew that I belonged to a religious family. my mother was a rosary devotee and my father was reading the bible everyday and obliged the family to attend Sunday mass. I defined religious as being very devoted to the church, would celebrate every Christian feast as assigned by the Catholic Church, and memorizing every chapter and verse of the bible. Our family would go to church together every Sunday and would pray the rosary before the Christmas Day and New Year’s Day approach as my mother initiated these activities. I was raised this way because our family especially my mother believes that “the family prays together stays together.” This may sound very cliché but it kept our family together for a certain period of time. This also maintained our tight family relationship through her untiring and never ending religious beliefs. While growing up, I was able to adapt this kind of belief. All the goodness in life was thought and implemented to me. As my innocence was bombarding me, I followed those preaches to remain righteous.
I had this foolish attitude during my childhood boasting to my childhood friends how perfect my family is and comparing my family’s achievement to their family’s imperfection. I was very harsh during that time and very idealistic about the things around me. Though I had consistent playmates, I felt that they thought of me as spoiled brat who was so proud of her family that she seemed to forget the values taught to her. I was not that righteous after all.
When I saw my father nagging and hitting my Kuya with belt because he failed his academic performance my idealistic perception about my family reversed. My mother did not even attempt to stop his unmerciful action to my Kuya. I tried to stop my father but he seemed just to hear me but not listening to me. I could still recall the scenes of that event. The belt was leather with a brown surface. My Kuya was on the bed’s right corner trying to avoid the painful hit of the belt. He was crying and screaming at the same time. I also cried because of pity and empathy.
I was more discouraged than fearful to my parents’ deed during that time. Discouraged of the learning they taught us about being religious. My perceptions to them altered. My expectations to them as being religious were slowly fading. If they were religious and righteous, then why would he beat his son and why would she allow her husband to beat his son just because of a failing grade. But I never hated them for breaking the perfection I believed in religiousness while I was growing up.
I learned from this event that I must strive hard so that I would excel academically. I must make sure that I do not only have passing grades but top grades to make them proud. Because I know that I do not want to physically and emotionally experience what my Kuya had experienced. I do not desire to come in contact with the same belt which hit his flesh and made a scar on his legs.
But the major insight of this event is that religiousness is not proportional to perfection which leads to righteousness. That my family is not perfect and righteous just because we are practicing acts of religiousness. And that being religious does not prevent my parents from committing a sin of beating my Kuya and hurting my feelings for doing it. Thus, my family is not righteous after all. We are not a perfect family that people look up to.
Lastly, the religiousness of my family can sometimes be hypocrisy. Hypocrisy of being sinless and flawless of any mistakes when in fact all of us are sinful. Hypocrisy of being too good that claims perfection and righteousness. Hypocrisy of devotion to the religion that one is really dedicated and committed to it and showing to the world that he is a righteous person. Because of this I become afraid to be religious as I am scared of being hypocrite. It does not also lessen my beliefs to God and that religiousness does not measure my capabilities as a Christian. I could say that faith and religiousness are two different aspects because one can be faithful to God, that is spirituality.
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