KATHMAN: College experience encourages reevaluating religion

As if being a graduate student now officially 10 years older than this year's incoming freshmen didn't make me feel enough like a relic, getting a high school reunion invite heralding that it's been a decade since I first moved into a dorm room put the nail in the figurative coffin.

In the days leading up to the fete, as we old timers like to do, I found myself reflecting on what some of my fellow Cougars might be up to.

I wondered how many of them, like me, had gotten hitched in the last 10 years. I wondered how many of them, like me, would still be in school one way or another. And since we all attended a private Catholic high school, I wondered how many of them, like me, had found a new religion.

Now, before I lose my Roman Catholic readership, let me explain, because I think re-evaluating one's faith - or, more specifically, one's religion - while in college is a fairly common and often unacknowledged phenomenon that tends to get a pretty bad rep with parents. Whether you view it as a fall from grace or a rise to enlightenment, my own spiritual transformation went thusly:

I was a fairly model Catholic growing up, so much so that I went from being a dutiful altar boy to a lector at mass to serving on my high school's Pastoral Council, which was the geeky, church-centered version of student council. I was even voted among the most likely to become a priest in my senior yearbook - a fact my wife finds amusing.

Despite continuing my private education into college by attending a Methodist liberal arts university, I found myself having an early collegiate experience similar to many students who've grown up knowing only the faith of their parents. Quite unintentionally, and without the assistance of agenda-pushing professors my mom needlessly warned me about, I started questioning religious tenets I'd always accepted blindly, entertaining nagging doubts that crept up for one reason or another and, in general, viewing the world differently.

Here is where some people might sheepishly detail the wild extracurricular experiences that accompanied their "spiritual awakening," but, alas, for the most part I remained as tame as a church mouse. In fact, I'm still wholesome to the point of boredom, and my mom can rest easy knowing she raised a non-promiscuous fuddy duddy who even tacks on that extra dollar donation to charity when he buys his groceries.

But do I sill attend mass every week as I did for the first 20 years of my life? Nope. Will I teach my children only one religious doctrine? Doubt it. Do I choose my political candidate based on who most closely resembles the religious ideals I grew up with? Absolutely not. Does this make me an atheist, an agnostic or a downright heathen? Depends on who you talk to.

Those labels refer more to one's association (or lack thereof) with an organized religion and less to what someone actually believes. It's the age-old difference between faith and religion, which, unfortunately, can be summed up like this: Over the course of history, faith has always brought people together, while religion has divided more people than it has ever united.

This is not a condemnation of organized churches - far from it. The good deeds that religions - including and especially the Catholic faith - have fostered in this world are immeasurable. But churches can be found anywhere, and they don't need to have a cross out in front either.

College helped me find my own personal church: the theater. It sounds cheesy, but if you look closely, all the elements are there: ritual (we call it rehearsal), tradition ("break a leg"), sacrifice (late nights building sets), morality (there's a lot of what to do and what not to do in plays) and, most importantly, communion (sharing stories with an audience).

So I would ask anyone just entering adulthood who finds themselves questioning their family faith to take comfort in Alfred Tennyson's words: "There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds." And for anyone who might judge those friends of theirs starting to explore new ideas, take a page out of the book of Jude - chapter one, verse 22 - and, "Be merciful to those who doubt."

I didn't end up making it to that high school reunion - they were meeting at a bar to watch the University of Nebraska/San Jose State game, and I had tickets to the actual game … suckers! But I'm sure the experience would have been similar to attending Mass again: visiting a chapter of my past that thankfully helped shape who I am but will not dictate who I'm going to be.

Ryan Kathman is a second year MFA Acting candidate. You can reach him at ryankathman@dailynebraskan.com