"What a long, strange trip it's been." ~ Grateful Dead
My experience with organized religion has been both long and strange.
Through most of my childhood I attended a Christian fundamentalist church, a log cabin in the mountains of West Virginia where 25-30 people gathered several times each week to fellowship and praise their god. I was moved emotionally by services there: one can't wash the feet of one's pew-mate whilst singing "Amazing Grace," without feeling something akin to the Holy Ghost.
I began doubting the existence of gods in my mid-teens, and by 18 was a full-fledged atheist. Early on, I was an angry atheist. Through my 20s I didn't understand why others couldn't see behind the curtain I'd pulled back for them. And I pulled it back as often as I could.
If you hung out with me at that time there's no doubt that talk turned to religion within the hour.
Despite my disbelief, I missed the ritual and spirituality of a church service, so in my 30s I started attending a local Catholic church. Although I disagreed with a lot of hot-button political issues the Catholic Church is known for, I liked the fact that I left mass feeling hopeful, and not bad, about myself.
From my perspective, the Catholic Church focused on personal improvement and on strengthening a connection with something greater than yourself. I could get behind that. My relationships with family and friends and my connection with my community each meet that standard.
My wife and I converted. At the end of that experience -- and it's a nine month experience -- I had to go through my first confession. I had such respect for the priest who would hear it -- he was also the priest who lead the conversion process -- that I wanted to be completely transparent. I confessed to being an atheist.
His response was perfect: Stop thinking about it. Focus on making society better for others. Serve people. Do good.
It was exactly what I needed to hear, and it allowed me to stop feeling guilty about being an atheist Catholic.
I thought often about my experience as I watched The Two Popes. At its core, Popes is an existential drama; an examination of whether a 2,000 year old institution should modernize to meet the needs of a changing society.
Is change compromise? And if so, is compromise acceptable? The question goes beyond the church and examines who we are as people and as members of society.
The Two Popes, adapted from a play by Anthony McCarten, is well written and well acted, as evidenced by the fact it has three Academy Award nominations (Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor, and Best Adapted Screenplay).
But, the movie's most important quality is its ability to make we viewers consider our connection with something greater without passing judgment on the quality of our humanity.
