A meeting for parents of first penance and eucharist candidates last week. A full forty-five minutes spent on the former sacrament, the forgotten one. Up front, an assurance that only priests who don't frighten children would be invited to "help out" day of. Does that mean that there are priests who frighten children?!

In a lousy attempt to "relate," shared some Catholic angst, came stories of youthful fear and confusion at confession. And a weird story about a third grade boy admitting in the box to putting his sis's brassiere in the freezer. Father wanted to know whether she was still in it when he did. Most of the mothers told me later they found this story wholly inappropriate. I'm quite sure, if it was even confessed - seal of confession? - it was done as a joke. And either Father is gullible and/or simply relishes the retelling. I wondered what any of this had to do with my child's sacrament preparation.

During Q & A, I asked what sign of reverence the children will be trained in so I can reinforce it. I glanced at the notes being taken by the mother next to me: "Longwinded," she'd scrawled across the top of her tablet. Amen. "Captive audience," thought I.

The following day, a close friend who'd attended confided that she'll switch parishes after first sacraments. She was completely put off. Not the sort of church she'd grown up in.

Religious Bio
Lifelong Catholic who got saved reading C. S. Lewis's Mere Christianity third year of undergrad. Split my free time between two different campus ministries, the Catholic Newman Center and the Evangelical Campus Crusade for Christ (now called simply "Cru" because "crusade" is a bad word). Met nice kids in both settings, went on retreats and attended regional conferences and studied the Bible.

Graduated college and took a good job in southern Ohio. Plugged into the local parish, got a church mentor and volunteer-taught religious education. Continued going to daily mass before work and dabbled in the Latin mass experience offered monthly downtown.

Relocated to New Jersey. Continued volunteering at church and attended formation classes, gravitating towards the ones pertaining to the Bible. Completed the certification process for formation and was effectively "done" but still sought to broaden my experience. Got into the inaugural class for Theology MA's and after five years (and two children), earned the degree.

But the kids took me away to a new parish that lacked any lay ministries and I dropped out from volunteering. Now after nine years with a new pastor, opportunities for lay involvement have opened up but I'm not the shoe in for a spot as expected. I thought that, with my education and experience, I could find a niche. I've "sold myself" in informal conversations with the deacon, church secretary and other known members of the inside clique¹.

So I wait and read books and try to keep my skills sharp for that opportunity, whatever it is.

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¹ Honestly, that there is a clique turns my stomach.

Gathering with other Christians inevitably leads to distractions on differences. All personal preferences, I suppose. But, for instance, among the regulars who pray the rosary on Friday morning after mass is a woman who instinctively bows her head at the name Jesus in the prayers. And if a participant drops a Hail Mary inadvertently, not to worry, the next participant says 11 to make up for it. They say the Fátima Prayer before any mysteries or decades.

During the prayers of the faithful at daily mass, a woman prays the same intention, verbatim, every day. I could recite it for her, I've heard it so often. I murmur it under my breath along with her. I'm tempted to throw her off one day by slipping in my intention ahead of hers! I'd have to be fast.

The ladies in Allenwood, all variations on a Baptist theme, similarly bewilder me. Make-up, coifs, manicures, jewelry, accessories. But no perfume, which is, naturally, the only purely feminine item I go for. Instead of showing compassion towards a pregnant middle schooler, one complained that her young niece encounters her in class everyday. Several shared her concern.

With the kids off school and Jeff on vacation, I've been able to swim every morning this week for as long as possible. Most days, that's worked out to 90 minutes, except yesterday was only 70. On a good day, then, it's over two miles of swimming. It takes me about twenty minutes to warm up and, actually, 45 minutes to "feel good." After 30 minutes, I switch from three stroke breathing to five stroke. I swim five stroke breathing for 30 minutes, then back to three stroke breathing for the final 30 minutes. Today I tried something different: I swam five stroke breathing for 40 minutes without any problem. And the last two laps of that I tried seven stroke breathing. That didn't go too well. I was gasping and one time, I turned my head to breathe and couldn't open my mouth!

Why force this breathing pattern instead of just breathing naturally? Because I hate breathing. That is, I hate turning my head to breathe. I was actually a bit dizzy this morning for the first fifteen minutes or so from turning my head side-to-side. I'd much rather just swim, just pull with my arms and skip the breathing part. The solution is probably to get a snorkel, but I like the discipline of holding my breath and breathing deeply at regular intervals.

On Thanksgiving, I started jogging. I call it jogging because that's what it is, even though it feels like running to me. And I wish it was running. I run jog down the street and back. Nothing complicated. There aren't any significant hills or traffic. I've seen just about all my neighbors at one time or another, so that embarrassment factor is over and done. I had tendonitis in my right knee from running, similar to my shoulder pain from swimming. I used that Icy Hot stuff immediately after running and the pain went away for hours. And now I don't need the Icy Hot anymore. The pain has just gone away.

I wanted to add some time onto my running, so I leave my street at the end and run down the main road to Fairplay. Then I turn around and come back. There's a bit of an incline getting to Fairplay but I tell myself that it's downhill on the way back! Yesterday there was a strong, cold wind blowing. Again, I told myself as I ran into it, that it'd be blowing me home on the return trip! I actually ran the loop two minutes faster yesterday than the day before. I credit the nippy December wind.

I prefer running in cold weather. I've never been one to run in the summer. Off-season training for cross country always took the form of cross training: swimming, biking and weight lifting. But I'm finding out that my college coach spoke the truth long ago when he said that running is the best preparation for good running. Not swimming or biking. No, two miles in the pool or five on the elliptical does not fully prepare one for road running. My breathing is strong but my legs were not quite strong enough to support me for the whole time.

However, now that I am running, my legs are stronger on the elliptical and on the leg weight machines. I'm increasing the total weight I'm lifting with my legs very rapidly since I started running.

And getting good nights' sleep is also very crucial. So, g'nite!

Sunday Snippets - a Catholic carnival hosted by Rann at "This That and the Other Thing."

My post this week:

• A sensible Bible study ends on a stunning note

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She let it slip that she's a universalist. Given the subject matter - the Book of Revelation - I could understand and wasn't too surprised. The rest were stunned, however, mistakenly thinking she'd have them also adopt universalism. She had no such intention. They sought to disabuse her of her position, citing various Scriptures. Her own son, who had arranged for her to teach at his parish, professed to being as surprised as everyone. "She sees things this way since I've left home!"

But she did persuade some people, I'm sorry to say. Not that I'm so opposed to universalism, but they ended up arriving at the worst conclusions. Must be they just haven't read the books I've read.

For instance, one of them, trying on how universal salvation might work after one died, decided that encountering the overpowering love of God - in the context of a judgment, keep in mind! - would win over absolutely anyone. Well, not according to C. S. Lewis, in a couple of places:

"The point is not that God will refuse you admission to His eternal world if you have not got certain qualities of character: the point is that if people have not got at least the beginnings of those qualities inside them, then no possible external conditions could make a 'Heaven' for them." (emphasis mine)

It's a little like, "It takes one to know one." Emphatically, opposites do not attract.

So, Lewis again:

"For this time it will be God without disguise; something so overwhelming that it will strike either irresistible love or irresistible horror into every creature. It will be too late then to choose your side. ... That will not be the time for choosing: it will be the time when we discover which side we really have chosen, whether we realised it before or not." (emphasis mine)

With the recent passing of Christopher Hitchens, I'm reminded that there's much in Scripture and Tradition to caution us against universalism.

Sunday Snippets - a Catholic carnival hosted by Rann at "This That and the Other Thing."

My post this week:

• Experiencing the revised Roman Catholic liturgy

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