5 Catholic things you should do even if you're not Catholic

Catholics are often accused of being superstitious, and of adopting practices that are meaningless or even idolatrous. Whilst some of those claims may not be entirely unfounded, for the most part, they come from a lack of understanding. What’s more, I actually think that many Catholics practices would benefit non-Catholics and even non-believers, if the whole “God” thing were removed. Here are some Catholic things that I think could benefit anyone, regardless of belief.

1. Offer up

Offering up challenging moments often gets bad press, and I can see how it could (and does, I’m sure) get used to stifle people’s right to express their hurt, frustration, sorrow, or whatever. But that’s not a problem with the practice itself, which I find to be a beautiful way of both acknowledging the reality of our own suffering, and keeping it in the context of ways in which other people are suffering, too.

The most common grievance I offer up is sleep deprivation caused by a child. It is perhaps the most challenging aspect of parenting small children and babies. The struggle, as they say, is real. However, as I lie awake with a sleep-resistant baby, or get up for the day substantially earlier than I would like with an early riser, I offer it up for those who would leap at the chance to be awake with a baby in the wee hours: those facing infertility or have not been able to start a family they’d hoped for; those who have suffered miscarriage or child loss; those missing children they do not have full custody of, or who have left home; etc.

People sometimes seem confused about how to offer up, but there’s nothing complicated about it. I simply say (in my head, usually), “Lord, I offer XYZ for the sake of those who are XYZ.” Just as Catholics believe that we can unite ourselves to Christ crucified through our suffering, we also believe that we can intercede for other members of his Mystical Body through the offering of our own suffering for the sake of others’.

If you’re not Catholic, you might not subscribe to this theology of suffering, and if you don’t believe in God then of course you won’t believe that this type of prayer, nor any other, can be efficacious. Nonetheless, I think everyone can bear fruit by calling to mind other people’s suffering when you are suffering yourself. The point is not to say “there are people suffering more than me so I should just stop whining”, but to recognise that humanity is always united in the reality of suffering, and that our own suffering can be a gateway to empathy for others.

2. Embrace suffering

Or at least, consider it a part of life that will be easier to tolerate if it is accepted. Catholics can definitely go a little too far in this respect, and I know that I have felt at times like the more you suffer, the better a Catholic you are. That can be true - many of the saints were forged by enduring immense hardship with faith and trust and not too much self-pity - but it’s not like God sends us suffering as some kind of endurance test to see how much we can handle, and awards Heaven to those with the highest scores.

This can be a difficult one to divorce from Catholic theology, because we believe a) that suffering is an unavoidable consequence of the Fall and of concupiscence, and b) that suffering offers us a unique opportunity to be united to Christ. If you don’t believe in God, and especially not the Catholic Christian God, then why wouldn’t you want to avoid suffering at all costs?¹

That said, from my perspective, a lot of the problematic social and scientific developments in recent decades are born from the fact that people want to resist suffering, or to feel that they have greater control over their destiny. Whilst there are obviously places where this makes total sense - I have been the grateful recipient of multiple modern medical developments, for example - I can’t help feeling that a lot of time, money, effort, and ethical disasters could be spared if we could collectively be more ok with the reality that life is varying degrees of brutal for just about everyone. If we could, maybe we would to do better at supporting each other through trials, instead of simply pointing to possible “solutions”.

Of course, for the most part, Catholics are not any better than anyone else at accepting suffering. I am moderately afraid that by writing this, I’m inviting God to lob a hearty dose of suffering at me so that I stop being so preachy. No one wants to suffer, and it’s natural - many times even good - to try to avoid it. I do also know from experience, though, that accepting it, working with it, and learning from it, invariably brings more peace than resisting it tooth and nail.

3. Pray for your enemies

Until recently, I basically ignored this instruction (Matt 5: 44-45) because I thought, seeing as I am neither an eight year old school kid nor a brooding dictator, I don’t have enemies. Sure, there are people I don’t like, or people who I think are really dumb, but I don’t have enemies. And as much as certain corners of the Catholic internet might argue otherwise, I don’t really think anyone is trying to persecute me, either.

However, a few months ago I had someone on my mind, someone I could not stop thinking about because I was so frustrated by them. They were so inconsiderate! And self-absorbed! And immature! And rude! I felt a little nudge that maybe I should… pray for them. Not in the “I’ll pray for u hun” way where what we really mean is “hopefully God is going to show you why I’m right and you’re wrong”, but, like, actually pray for the good of this person. Simple things: I pray that they will experience happiness today. I pray that they feel loved. I pray that they have peace. And - I pray that somehow, I can channel God’s love and mercy in this person’s direction (whilst maintaining healthy boundaries, because it’s 2024, baby).

You know how they say that prayer doesn’t change God, it changes you? That always seems like a cop out to me, because it makes it seem like prayer is really just about thinking about things until you realise that you are the problem. Which is often true! But prayer is more than that. HOWEVER, praying for this person did change me. I stopped feeling angry. I stopped mentally keeping score of all the ways this person was a bad person. I stopped feeling tense every time I thought about seeing or talking to this person.

Even if you’re not the praying type, I think there’s enormous benefit to be found in thinking about the people who get under your skin (family, friends, politicians, that person on Instagram you can’t stand but also can’t stop stalking) and wishing good things for them. Not with a view to them becoming “better people”, or to realising the error of their ways, but just as humans who need love and warmth and laughter as much as anyone else - most likely much more. Make a list of three people who make you want to scratch your eyes out, and then commit to trying to genuinely wish goodness for them every day for a week. Money back guarantee if you don’t find yourself softened.

4. Examine your conscience

Catholicism is notorious for breeding feelings of guilt, shame, and inadequacy in its adherents, but while that is absolutely a real thing that can cause mental health challenges for some people, I think a certain amount of routine, intentional self-reflection is something that everyone can benefit from.

Whilst the obvious time for an examination of conscience is before Confession, many people incorporate it into their daily spiritual practices, and when I have done so myself, I have found it enormously fruitful. If you Google “examination of conscience” you can find thousands guides for directing this practice, but you can just as easily come up with your own approach.

When I was in the routine of doing this nightly (which was err, quite a while ago at this point), the format I followed was:

1. A few minutes of reflection on the day

2. Write down two things about the day that I did well (e.g. prioritised eating breakfast and kept my cool when the 4yo screamed that dinner was disgusting)

3. Write down one thing that I did not do well today (e.g. stayed up too late watching reruns of Brooklyn 99)

4. Write down an intention for tomorrow (e.g. be in bed by 10pm)

5. Say a prayer of thanksgiving for the day that has passed and a prayer of supplication for the grace to do better tomorrow

Written like that, it looks kind of long and involved, but all this needn’t take more than 5 mins total. It might sound wishy washy to focus more on “what I did well” than “what I could do better”, but noticing the successes is just as important, if not more so, for forging better habits as noticing where you messed up.

I think it’s pretty self-evident how this could be adapted for the non-believer. Just switch “pray” for “think about”. And as I said, there are many, many different ways to do this, and it’s endlessly flexible to your own circumstances and beliefs. When I have been consistent with this, it has made a huge difference to my day-to-day mindset and attitude (I guess I should get back to it).

5. Fast and feast

I recently went down a rabbit hole of watching videos by the Orthodox Jewish content creator Miriam Malnik-Ezagui, with the kind of fascination that I used to read Catholic mommy blogs in the early 2010s (conversion to Orthodox Judaism pending? J/k, I’m a happy Catholic). Her viewership seem to be overwhelmingly non-Jews, and one of the questions she is asked repeatedly is “what’s up with all the fasting? Does God really care what you eat?”

I always feel a lot of frustration with those questions, because they remind me of questions levelled at Catholics, too. There are a lot of things we do, or rules we are supposed to follow, that prompt people to ask, “does God really care about that?”. Miriam’s response is one that resonates a lot with me: she says that the rules help her to live intentionally, and to have God at the forefront of her mind as she goes about her daily life.

The required fasting days for Catholics are certainly much wimpier than those of Orthodox Jews, and for the most part, we don’t have dietary rules. We are encouraged to choose things to fast from though, and not just during Lent. This is seen as a spiritually beneficial practice that can be voluntarily adopted at any time. For example, once per week I fast from putting milk in my tea. It is such a tiny fast that it seems ridiculous, laughable. But for me, it is a reminder to pray for a particular intention, a way of “offering up” a small sacrifice, and also it calls to mind all the tiny blessings that I never even think about in my life of material abundance.

The day after my tiny fast, I always savour my cups of tea with a splash of milk in them that bit more. Even without belief in the spiritual benefits of taking on little fasts, it can be grounding to consciously deprive ourselves a little from time to time², in order to stay mindful of the rich blessings in our lives, and to enjoy indulgences that bit more. Secular culture in 2024 offers many opportunities to feast, yet none to fast - and really, you can’t have one without the other.

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I often reflect that even if I abandoned my Catholic faith, there are many practices from it I would want to hold on to, as they have helped me to be more grounded and have improved my mental wellbeing. Is there anything from your faith that you would add to this list?

1. I know nothing about other religions’ theologies of suffering, so for all I know, Hindus are really into suffering too. I’m happy to learn if you know better than I!

2. Of course this should be done with sensitivity to any eating disorders or other issues that could be triggered. It should not be done as a guise for dieting or other self-punishment.