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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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