Took Kenny to church with me this evening. I let him wear his sports coat and new loafers. A nice, warm Saturday evening would not be crowded at church and he would have a little wiggle room. It wasn't and he did.

I removed his sports coat before I let him crawl under the pew. He spent most of his time riding the kneeler like a horse. I think that he caught a word or two from the Gospel reading. He knows the name "Jesus" if nothing else. And he likes talk about death and dying, morbid little kid.

For the Creed, he followed the words as I pointed them out in my missal. Again for the Lord's Prayer, the same. I figure these are important texts to know no matter what his future holds. The closing hymn was I am the bread of life (Suzanne Toolan, RSM) and I pointed out to him that being raised up on the last day was about coming back to life again after you die. And that the reason we come to church is to find out how to come back to life again after we die.

He's afraid of death and dying ... did I mention he's morbid? ... so I figured a hope of resurrection might entice him to come to church with me more often.

I dunno. After the homily and putting his money in the collection basket, he really wanted to go home. I think he sat down on his kneeler and started crying when I told him no, that the service was only half over. I think I saw tear stains on his pants.

I'm also trying to interest him in the reading associated with church attendance and participation, from the prayers to the hymns.

When we arrived home, he graciously offered that I take his younger brother, Tim, with me next week instead because "Tim would really like church."

And I should say that, on this eve of the one-year anniversary of JPII's death, no recollection of him was made tonight. But the way Father talks, he'll give an altar call next weekend. He kept telling us tonight that we need to "make a decision" for God, and decide to accept Jesus' offer of new life. Is this what I've been missing?