Now we come to the heart of the matter.  The biggest issue that eats away at my relationship with the Church.  I'm hesitant to even write it down here now.  But the truth is, I have doubts about Jesus.  The man who is supposed to be my Savior.  The doubt springs from what I would think is logic.  Of course the argument starts with the fact that Jesus lived 2000 years ago.  How could anyone know that He performed miracles and rose from the dead?  Logic tells me that Jesus' divinity was invented by His apostles and their successors.  When dealing with things like religion, a leader needs to be delineated.  Many religions have a savior-like figure.  It seems too much like a trend.  What I'm saying is that it was only logical that Jesus became divine because He was seen as the strongest connection between God and humans.  I have to think that if Constantine hadn't converted to Christianity, I would be part of a different religion right now.  If Jesus were living today, would we still call Him Lord?  I have an inkling that He was just a normal man who was a good leader.

I don't want to have these doubts.  Having these doubts fundamentally cuts me off from the Catholic faith.  Catholicism is centered around Jesus and His divinity.  One day He will rise again and bring the world salvation.  If I don't believe He will rise, how am I a Catholic?

It's not that I don't believe in Jesus.  Part of me does.   But there's another part of me that continues to pester my mind with these kind of thoughts.  It says that maybe my belief is baseless since it was instated in me before I could walk.  It says that my faith is pointless because the Church is stuck in the 16th century.  It brings doubt and insecurity.

Yet, through all this, I still consider myself Catholic.  I believe in God.  I believe in the Bible.  I believe in Jesus' teachings.  I still go to church.  I think that, regardless of my doubts and disagreements, I must continue to push on.  The one thing that reassures me is this: the prayer.  I never understood why in times of trouble my mom was so adamant about going to mass.  I always got frustrated with it.  But lately, I have started to see why she does.  It's comforting.  She feels closer to God when she prays, and so do I.  Alone, in the dark, I can talk to God.  I can recite the prayers I have memorized.  It clears the mind.  It helps me figure out what I'm thankful for, what I want, and what I should do.  And it works.  Praying helps.  No matter how bad I feel or how terrible life is at the moment, I can pray and things will get better.  Praying doesn't physically change anything, but it does something beyond the physical or mental.  I used to doubt God's existence until I realized this.

So here I am persevering through it.  It's not so hard.  I'm still finding out things about my faith that I never knew existed.  This spiritual discovery adds another dimension to Rome.  I consider this city "my turf," not in the sense that I own it, but in the sense that it is at the head of my faith.  Every church I go into, I get this special feeling that I am part of something truly good.  It's hard to explain.

Going into Istanbul, a major Islamic center, I'm looking forward to gaining insight into both the Muslim faith and my own.