Sunday, January 31, 2010

Roast Pastor and Small Potatoes

My Sunday plans changed at the last minute today. I was to have met with some of my former dance troupe members for Mass and brunch. I was looking forward to attending the Spanish Mass with them and sharing a meal with a lot of " ¿Como se dice eso en EspaƱol....? (How do you say that in Spanish....) sprinkled on the side. Rosetta is a wonderful companion in that she only speaks when I summon her, but she always gets to pick the conversational topic.

Faced with going to the Spanish Mass alone without my friends, I caved in and chose another parish where I could literally blend in with the other pale faces. Path of least resistance, or so I thought.

The second reading was on 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 Love is patient, love is kind, love is not envious or boastful - you know the verse. I love that reading - it was in our wedding. In fact, I'm reading Love Dare which examines that verse with a magnifying glass. If I'm not getting the most out of my love relationships, it's because I'm falling short in the love department. Sure, anybody can be kind and patient and unselfish when you're head-over-heels in young love, but add 25 years and some irritating habits. Not so easy anymore - this is work!

Something must have set the priest off earlier in the week, because his homily was peppered with things he was fed up with in his church family. He wasn't delivering fire and brimstone; he was poking sore spots with laser beam accuracy. He talked about people being habitually late (guilty), leaving early, talking in church (guilty), parish hopping (guilty), and roasting the pastor at Sunday dinner. I'm actually roasting a pork loin, but it's food for thought. I suppose we all think the pastor doesn't notice our sins, but I guess he does! Mia culpa, mia culpa, mia culpa.

When it comes down to it, all you need is love. Lots more love. Thank goodness Valentine's Day is around the corner. Cupid, shoot me!

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