Sunday, April 20, 2014

Easter Sunday

Forgive me, those people that bother to read my nonsense. It has been almost a month since I last blogged.

That is a crazy introduction to a blog post for me, for a couple of reasons. The first reason is, my wife called me out last week. "You haven't posted anything in a long time." I didn't know how to respond, except to say, "I know. I just haven't known what to write."

I could have written about #Scandal. I could have written about #AgentsOfShield. I could have written about the last movie I saw in the theatre, #CaptainAmerica. A great idea was to write about the new faces of late night television since David Letterman announced his retirement. But honestly, it all sounded boring and repetitive to me.

The second reason, is because a friend of mine said almost the same thing in an introduction to her blog, about three weeks ago. Check her's out, she's #CooleyO. I hope she doesn't mind the reference. If she does, oops, too late.

The real reason it felt like a crazy introduction to my blog is because it's Easter Sunday. Today was my first Easter Sunday as a Catholic.

Over the last year, I've been participating in something called RCIA, the Rites of Christian Initiation for Adults. It's the way grown ups join the Catholic Church. It's kind of like CCD, which is what usually young adults or teenagers went through for Christian/Catholic education before confirmation. I'm not going to proselytize or convert you or anything, but this is better to write about for me than anything else. In no particular order, here are my thoughts on joining the Catholic Church.

Mass was long as "Hell". I imagine. Now that I'm Catholic I'm not going to hell, so I guess I'll never know. (Yes that's a joke.)

My wife, and anyone around me, can tell you I was shaking and sweating like a hooker in church. Pun intended. I don't like doing new stuff, life changing stuff especially. I was sweating like a fool when I got married. When I picked up my son for the first time, I was shaking so badly the nurses were nervous I might drop him. When I first took the cup for Communion, I was sure I would drop the cup and and ruin everyone in the church's Easter. Somehow, I didn't screw up any of them.

I can't remember the last time I saw some get baptized. Very holy, very cool, and at 32 years old I think I'd have peed in the pool of holy water. I'm sure it helped the elect for baptism that the deacon performing looked as nervous as they did.

I wish I was sitting on the end of the aisle for this hand holding prayer. Then only my wife would know how badly my palms were sweating.

Don't drop the cup. Don't drop the cup. Don't drop the cup. Oh my God, I'm going to drop the cup. I didn't drop the cup. What do I do now?

Seeing these people, I've gotten to know, get baptized is really cool. But the sound of the flowing water makes me want to pee. How long until we're done?

Where's my son? Is he happy with his grandma and grandpa? Why isn't he with grandma??!! I'm interrupting service now. There he is.

I was telling Kate that I'm not thrilled with drinking from a cup that a bunch of strangers drink from. What if there is a new pimply, hormonal, thirteen year old, just into puberty, that takes from the cup right before I am supposed to? Oh? We go first today, and can always pass on the cup? Ok, I can handle that.

I'm not exaggerating when I say these are only some of the thoughts that raced through my mind. I could list a lot more funny and less funny examples.

So now I am confirmed into the Catholic Church. I'm thrilled, terrified, and awed to be a member. If you'd have told me 6 years ago, I'd be married, with a child, and a dog, and a member of the Church, I'd have laughed in your face.

The Future is a crazy thing.