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During my last year in high school, I found out
about the Liberal Catholic Church. It was
in a beautiful spot in the Hollywood hills.
The ceremony was an anthology of the most
theatrical bits and pieces found in the principal
rituals, Occidental and Oriental.
There were clouds of incense, candles galore,
processions in and around the church.
I was fascinated, and though I had been
raised in the Methodist Episcopal Church and had
had thoughts of going into the ministry, I
decided to join the Liberal Catholics.
Mother and Dad objected strenuously.
Ultimately, when I told them of my intention
to become an acolyte active in the Mass, they
said, “Well, make up your mind. It’s
us or the church.” Thinking along the lines of
“Leave your father and mother and follow Me,”
I went to the priest, told him what had
happened, and said I’d decided in favor of
the Liberal Catholics. He said,
“Don’t be a fool. Go home.
There are many religions.
You have only one mother and father.”
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