January has barely ended, but I'm sure many people have already forgotten their New Year's resolutions. Not me. I'm still staying true to all of them (except drinking more water -- I keep forgetting to do that).

One of my resolutions for 2006 was to attend the Catholic mass in Spanish that is offered once a month on campus. I have always stayed away from religion, but I recognize the importance of spirituality in my life, and mass is a familiar setting for me.

Nobody told me not to be religious; I decided that for myself. While growing up, Catholic priests were never the friendliest men I met, "good Christians" were often the most closed-minded people I came across and I never understood why I couldn't follow Jesus' teachings without having to participate in cults created after his death.

But to soak up the good vibes, I attended the first mass of the semester, and asked a friend to come with me. I sat down and went through the motions of mass, which included talking to my friend about random stuff while the priest was preaching. I mentioned to her that I couldn't eat the bread and wine during the communion ceremony because I was never baptized, so I'm not actually Catholic.

"You were never baptized?" she asked. I told her no, to which she immediately replied, "Why not?"

"I don't know," I said.

She continued her interrogation: "But your mom is Catholic,' she said. "Leila, you have to get baptized! It's very important."

By this time I had grown tired of the endless questions.

"Look. I don't think God will send me to hell just because I wasn't baptized if I am a good person," I said.

And by that time, she had grown equally tired of my responses.

"But you're not a good person," she said. "And you're not baptized. That's two things against you."

A song started and I began contemplating the possibility of eternally burning in hell because I'm not baptized. Surely I am more secure in my beliefs than to let one person make me question my lack of religion, no?

I started to forget about everything when my friend turned to me again and told me about an upcoming baptismal ceremony for adults. She told me I had to go, but I really didn't want to.

"But it's fun," she said. "They even make you kneel in this little pool."

When she told me I didn't have to wear a bikini, the idea became a little more appealing, so I said I'd think about it.

The truth is, I am not thinking about it. I don't believe God will punish me for not having a religion. I am a good person within the limits of human error and I truly dislike many aspects of religion.

The Vatican Museums charge a $25 fee to enter. It doesn't matter if you pray daily, clean your church every weekend, help the needy and participate in bake sales to raise funds for your church; if you don't have $25, you're not getting in. I don't have to read the Bible to know that Jesus would not approve. And neither do I.

Toward the end of mass, they announced that there were some postcards of the Virgin Mary and Pope Benedict XVI at the door. I told my friend I was only going to take one of the Virgin Mary because I have some reservations about the new pope.

A long time ago, I called my incredibly religious grandma in Costa Rica to ask her opinion on him. She told me nervously that she didn't like Germans too much, but she did trust the Catholic Church. If my grandma weren't happy with him, I surely wouldn't be either.

But for a second opinion, I called my brother in Taiwan. "I don't like Catholics too much," he said "But I trust Germans."

I was sure to tell my friend all of this. "Get baptized," she said. "You're going to need it."

Honesty though, I really don't think I will need it.

In the end, I really enjoyed mass. It was a moment of peace and reflection in my otherwise hectic life.

But I don't feel like a better person for having attended. And I certainly don't need weekly reminders to be a caring and compassionate person because my conscience provides for that on a daily basis.