Daredevil Has Heightened Senses, I Have Heightened Catholic Guilt
Girl praying with a rosary.
*I know religion can be a sensitive topic, and this story is not meant to try to convert anyone. It’s simply about me and my current thoughts on Catholicism.
With Easter over, Daredevil being the current show I’m binge watching, and the death of Pope Francis;I’ve had Catholicism on my mind a lot lately. Specifically, I have been asking myself what does it mean to be a good Catholic (even more than usual)?
This Easter, I’ve been feeling guilty. I usually go to Sunday mass throughout the year. Being Catholic is a big part of my identity. I wake up thanking God for another day and go to bed hoping God grants me one more (death is something I think about a lot, I can’t help it).
Ecce Homo and Mater Dolorosa from The Met
But this year, I didn’t go to Easter Sunday mass (the previous day I was out celebrating my friend's birthday). I also didn’t give up anything for Lent. I felt like I wasn’t showing up for Jesus the way I normally would. When I brought it up to my mom, she said she’d noticed, and that while there’s always next year, this time of year is meant to walk with God. And she was right, I hadn’t. So then I started asking myself: Why didn’t I? And does that make me a bad Catholic?
I go to church, I know these holidays matter, and I want to be better about honoring them. But that’s the easy part of being Catholic. The hard part is dealing with the sadness and confusion that always surface during Easter. It’s not just about reflecting on the pain Jesus endured, it’s also about recognizing the pain that continues to exist in the world. Sometimes I wish all the “bad” people would drop dead. My mom once said that Jesus died for our sins to save us, yet we still fail to listen. I understand why God endured such pain, but I still can’t fully grasp why He did. My mom says that God’s love is so immense, it’s beyond our ability to comprehend (Yes, my mom is very religious, and I often go to her to try to understand faith. I like her point of view).
Then there’s Daredevil. I’m obviously not Matt Mudork with heightened senses fighting crime at night, but he is constantly torn between faith and justice, between mercy and vengeance (the character is also Catholic). And often I feel like that too.
Daredevil’s faith is often put on trial by how he handles violence, especially when it comes to people who’ve hurt him or the people he loves. He doesn’t want to kill his enemies. For me, my faith feels tested in how I respond to the people around me, especially the ones who’ve hurt me (and maybe the ones I’ve hurt too). I think the hardest part of being Catholic is navigating those complicated relationships. I think about friends I’ve drifted from after arguments. Should I have been more forgiving instead of cutting them off? I think about the boy I used to like, the one I had to walk away from when his mental health spiraled and I started to fear for both his safety and mine. Should I have stayed, even though it was harming me? Should I have tried harder? Done more?
That’s where it gets tricky, where do I draw the line between following my faith and protecting my peace?
Sometimes I get so annoyed at Matt Murdock because he thinks he can save everyone. But maybe I see myself in that. Maybe that’s a Catholic thing, this belief that we’re supposed to fix people. Heal them. Carry their pain. And maybe… I just need a therapist again.
Catholics are taught that life is sacred. That confused me a lot when I was 10. I remember asking my mom, "If something ever happened to me, like if I got kidnapped or something crazy like that, should I not fight back? Would I go to hell for protecting my sacred life?" She said to fight. I told her, "But Jesus didn’t fight when he was being sacrificed," and she just said, "Still fight. Jesus would forgive you because it’s self-defense." I’m still not sure if she said that as a Catholic or as my mom.
Lastly, there’s the death of Pope Francis. I really do think he was an icon. There’s a lot that makes me question Catholicism sometimes, but at its core, I still think it’s beautiful. It’s about treating everyone with dignity and respect, no matter your sexuality, income, mental health, all of it. That’s something Pope Francis often preached. That idea of genuine love. That’s the version of God I believe in.
Pope Francis waving
But even knowing that, I still judge myself. I catch myself thinking, "God would’ve been more patient. God would’ve been kinder. God would have handled that better." But why am I trying to be God? I could never live up to that standard. It wasn’t until a conversation with my mom that I started to get it a little more. She told me God understands we’re human, but we’ll never understand God.
A few years ago, my mom started going to Mass every Sunday. She always invited us, but never forced us. I remember one time telling her, "God probably hates me for not going." She told me He doesn’t. She said maybe God feels sad when we forget about Him, but He doesn’t hate. He doesn’t hold grudges the way we do. If anything, the next time I step into a church, God would be glowing with happiness, like a parent whose kid comes running back for a big hug. God always loves you and wants all his children to visit Him. He’s always waiting (one of the cutest things I’ve ever heard). That made me feel a little less guilty, and I started to truly think about God as being love.
God is someone I try to follow, but I’m not God. I’m just me. All I can do is try my best.
Sometimes I think about going to a priest and dumping all the my questions, but the thought of it makes me feel like a child. I’ve had these questions since I was about nine (maybe even younger), and I thought they’d get easier with time. But somehow, they’ve only gotten messier, heavier, more layered.
Still, I think that’s part of the faith too. Not having all the answers. Just walking, questioning, and loving the best we can.
Handing a small black heart.
