Sunday, March 8, 2015

My Dance with God

The time changed last night.

I have to go to Church this morning because I'm in charge of the service.

It reminds me of a joke a Priest told at St. Meinrad Seminary and Monastery in southern Indiana.

The joke went like this.

Mom: "Get up son it's time to go to Church."

Son ... slurring his words while asleep in bed ... " I ain't going to Church."

Mom: "Yes you are. Get up and get dressed!"

Son ... putting the pillow over his head ... "I am not going to Church."

Mom: "DO NOT MAKE ME COME UP THERE! GET READY FOR CHURCH NOW!"

Son ... angrily sitting up in bed while throwing the pillow against the wall" "WHY DO I HAVE TO GO?"

Mom: "Because you're the Priest."

It still cracks me up ... primarily because there's so much truth in it.

A lot of clergy are dreading heading into work today.

It's partially because of the time change ... it'll be "Church Lite" today ... but it's also because they know they're going to give far more than they receive and it's going to leave them absolutely spent!

They're also under some delusion they pretend they haven't shot their wad so they pretend to still care when they've got nothing left to give.

These are the good clergy anyway ... there's many that really don't care and it's just a paycheck.

Back in the days when I heard the long, lanky Priest at St. Meinrad tell his joke, I was on a mission to find God. Attending a Baptist Seminary, inexplicably in charge of an inner city congregation, I was also plowing the rich fields of Catholicism ... doing the readings for Mass at St. Martin de' Tours every Wednesday and visiting lots of Monasteries.

When all was said and done, I'd shot my wad ... left organized religion as it had already left me ... but found my dance with God.

I'm heading off to Church in a bit ... after I cook the girls cinnamon rolls which is a Sunday tradition in our house ... and my priorities are in order.

Our Church is in a bar and is definitely disorganized religion.

But there's a Holiness that happens ... I don't know how ... but it does in spite of my lack of understanding.

Individually we are a flawed messed up bunch of overdrinking, under caring, cussing, smoking, lusting independents ... but collectively we become a Church ... in a Bar transformed into a Sanctuary.

It's pretty spectacular and I find great joy in it.

When it's over and I've shot my wad ... I'm pretty spent ... and care about how many Cinnamon rolls the girls ate while I was gone.

Then we settle in for a day of rest.

Maddie the 13 year old watches "The Murder Channel" ... Laurel the 10 year old talks ... Cassidy the 8 year old stays in her room playing on her Mom's I-Pad ... while Sarah and I lust surrounded by barriers.

It's a good way to spend a Sunday.

I believe God gets a big kick out of it anyway.