Sunday, March 4, 2007

Up to My Ass in Alligators

I still have over a hundred exams to grade, and this is weighing so heavily on my mind that I've been unable to rise from the chair where I've been screwing around on the internet for the last hour and a half. Sad, but oh so true. Much of my brain space is currently taken up with the writing assignment which is phase II of the job app I've been whining about, and I need to divert at least long enough to finish the grading before Spring Break.

My comment about getting the suit too soon proved incorrect; I wore it to a funeral this week. It was the father of a childhood friend of mine; we were thick like thieves from ages 6 to 12, then parted ways as she went through a much rougher adolescence than I did. At the time, I just thought she'd gotten mean for no good reason, and started messing with drugs, and she was no fun to hang around with anymore. Later on, with a bit of perspective, I realized that there was a lot going on in her life--not the least of which was that her extremely unpleasant and (I gather) emotionally abusive father had left her mother for another woman. At least, that's what I think happened; adults are pretty sparing with the details on these crises when you're a kid. She and I kept in touch--I think even as the teenage years were treating her badly, she kept thinking back to our hours playing in the woods and acting out Star Wars drama as the happy part of her life--and though she's moved to Portland now, she touches base with me a couple times a year and we usually get together for lunch or something when she's back in town. I found out her dad had died the day before his funeral, and decided I should probably bust my ass to get there. She and her mom and sister all seemed really happy I'd come. It was odd to sit through the mass hearing the present wife's eulogy of what a wonderful husband he'd been to her over the last 20+ years, knowing what a devastating effect his various actions had had on his 3 kids and his ex.... But I guess this is pretty standard at funerals; there will always be someone listening to the eulogy and saying, "That's not the guy I remember."

Is it just me, or is it odd that the priest invites non-Catholics to come up during communion, not to actually receive communion but to refuse it and then receive his blessing instead? If I'm not Catholic, why would I want a blessing from a Catholic priest? To me, that's about as inappropriate as going up to receive the eucharist--neither holds meaning for me as a non-catholic, so why would I even go up there? Odd.

1 comment:

Carl said...

You're right: the communion thing is very weird. I've never heard of that before. Must be part of this kinder, gentler, more inclusive Catholocism they've been working on since I left.