To truly understand Covington Catholic and their behavior, you must first understand the context.
I’m not exactly sure how long my branch of the Hainds family have been Catholic, but suffice is to say, multiple generations.
Like me, and my ancestors, my first two children were baptized in the Catholic Church. I attended a Catholic middle school. I was confirmed in the church. I was on the Parish Council. I was a lector and a third degree Knight in the Knights of Columbus.
There was one hitch; in the lead up to elections, I suspended mass attendance. As much as I appreciated the camaraderie and my clear path to heaven, I couldn’t stomach the election advice distributed from: the pulpit, bumper stickers, and the subtle and not so subtle hints from my fellow parishioners. So every two year, I, and my family, took a September through November timeout, before returning to the pew around Christmas.
2016 was different. This time, I looked into the abyss. There had never been a clearer demarcation between good and evil on the Presidential ticket. I begged, pleaded, cajoled, and eventually cursed. Nothing dissuaded my devout Catholic friends from their MAGA path.
They explained their stance. Obviously, they didn’t use these exact words, but they were extraordinarily clear in their reasoning — thus providing the context for this photo, and a better understanding of what these students and their escorts from Covington County Catholic were thinking.
In today’s day and world, there is only one Commandment: Thou shall vote for Pro-Life candidates and policies.
If you follow this one commandment, you are free to use the previous ten commandments as toilet paper.
When Trump was elected I swore I’d never attend Mass again. I am ashamed that it took me so long to recognize the evil inherent in my church.
My family goes back six generations, just on our family farm. We are tiny in number and long in heritage. The Catholic portion of that heritage ended with me.
In early December, a student at the college where I teach inquired, “Are you a Christian?” The question revolted me. For the first time in my life, I answered “No.”
Looks like a few old dogs can learn new tricks.