When my mom was a girl, the kids in her neighborhood called her a "Cat-licker," a childish pejorative for "Catholic." Catholics were different, suspicious. They ate the body of Christ! They followed the Popes orders!
You'd think things would have changed. But it wasn't too many years ago that a woman I knew, someone I considered a friend, actually brought up this old chestnut: "You Catholics pray to the saints instead of to God!" Maybe there are things that still need explaining.
My father was a research scientist and all about proof. My mother was a nun, and her early life was about what can't be proven empirically. Sure, I dabbled in religion after my appendix burst and the doctor told me very somberly, "You were minutes from death." But it was a long time before faith set in. Some may not draw the distinction, but religion is an organized group with certain tenets that gathers for fellowship. Faith is where you actually hang your hat.

A couple minutes ago, I checked the mail and found this interesting postcard from a neighborhood church. I don't want to say too much about it, except that I liked it's humorous tone. The front just states, in black and white, "Not sure about organized religion? Not a problem. (we're not all that organized)" I like that. A lot.






