In Debbie Camire’s family, religion meant only one thing: the Roman Catholic Church. Considering an alternate faith was unthinkable.

And for Camire’s grandmother, attending Mass every week was like an invasion by the Marines.

“She was the first in the church and the last one to leave,” Camire said. “I don’t think there’s a place in our family tree, on both sides, that doesn’t come from the Catholic Church.”

Before she broke from the church in search of a faith that resonated – and drew the scorn of some family members – Camire was a good Catholic, too.

“In this very French, very Catholic community, to have anything out of the norm meant to be wrong,” said Camire, 44.

In the fifth grade, she took her first communion, nervously confessing her sins (Camire told the priest that she was mean to her sister). Then came after-school catechism classes, and confirmation. But by Camire’s teenage years, instead of a deeper understanding of God, she felt guilt, shame and fear.

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“I always felt like I was one sin away from going to Hell,” she said. “I never felt like I was part of a church family.”

When she got married in 1993, the family expectation of her Catholic faith only grew stronger. Her husband, Craig, and his extended family were all Catholic, too. As the marriage sailed along for years, and the couple had three sons, their faith waned. The parents would drop their kids off for catechism class and go out to breakfast.

“I used to say I went to Saint Mattress,” Camire remembers, shaking her head.

By 2006, Camire and her husband began to drift apart. The couple had even made plans to split up, each hiring a divorce attorney. A judge gave them 30 days to attempt to reconcile.

In the midst of the court battle, Camire said she ran into an old friend.

“I knew she was a Jesus freak,” Camire said. The friend said she was praying for Camire. “She invited me to come to New Life.”

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Established in 1983, New Life Church in Biddeford espouses an evangelical view of born-again Christianity that felt foreign to Camire and the scores of other Catholics who, like her, found refuge in its congregation and practices.

When she went, Camire told no one. But soon, Craig started going, too. They both got saved in the church in 2006, to the chagrin and bewilderment of her family.

It was a step outside of her family tradition that she needed to take. And now, Camire, her husband and her children have never felt so free, she said.

Yet Camire’s mother was skeptical then, and remains so now.

“She was not supportive,” Camire said. “She still thinks it’s a different God, a different Jesus.”

Breaking with her family’s tradition was not easy. Neither was adopting the temperance of her new faith.

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Now both sober, the Camires long ago dumped out their liquor bottles, and have had to make new friends. But some family members are starting to attend New Life, too, she said.

And Camire has found a peace, of sorts, with her mother.

“Maybe she hopes it could be different,” Camire said. “Maybe she would like to be sitting beside me in church. I don’t need her to convert for me to love her and for her to love me.”

 


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