Why I could never be Catholic

I recently attended my grandmother-in-law's funeral. It was actually a happy time since she was 96 and ready to go. Plus we got to have a family reunion and see all those who live far away and drink lots of wine together.

I came away from the experience strongly convicted that I could never be Catholic. I think you have to grow up Catholic, or spend a whole lot of years as a Catholic to not think that it's pretty wierd. Stand, sit, kneel, repeat with lots of "and also with you"s and occasional mumbled responses that no one but the Catholics can understand. And don't even get me started about Mary being enthroned as the Queen of Heaven. Where is that in the Bible? NOWHERE!

So, while I completely respect my in-laws devotion to their church, I breathed a deep sigh of relief that I never converted. I almost did right after Joe and I got married, but the Papal Infallibility Oath was the deal-breaker for me. No can do on that one. Phwew!

I think praying the "Our Father" is the only memorized poem I can go for, since it is the one Jesus himself taught.