Excommunication is harder than it seems. But if you don’t go to church, does it matter if the church still thinks you’re part of the flock?
Like many lapsed Catholics, my relationship with the church has had some spectacular ups and downs, from the triumph of playing Jesus in my primary school Easter passion play, to the nadir of watching Cardinal George Pell acquitted. It had been years since I’d had anything to do with the church, yet as George jetted back to his Vatican palazzo, I decided mere non-participation wasn’t enough. I wanted out.
Perhaps I could get a certificate, I thought, formally acknowledging that I was no longer Catholic. That I’d officially quit. I’d carry it in my wallet, and the next time my staunchly religious uncle said “I’m praying for you”, while giving me the pitying look he reserves for stray lambs, I’d whip it out and shove it in his face.
