I was going to call this "Chris' Corner", but the word "corner" bothered me. A corner implies something easily entered and difficult to exit. The only way to exit is to turn around and leave the way you came into the corner.

I liked the idea of a hallway and how it represents a journey. It may be long or short. There may be distractions along the way or there may be nothing of interest that takes your eyes off of the end goal. You may know where you came from, but not necessarily where you are going.

So, "Chris' Hallway" is really nothing more than random thoughts and observations. I hope that it is always honest and at least mildly entertaining.

For the latest "room" in our hallway... Click here!

Here are past "rooms" you may want to visit...

ROOM #1: An Easter Lesson

ROOM #2: Should I be wearing a bridal gown?

ROOM #3: "Hey, look at that. It's really shiny."

ROOM #4: Everyday can be a First Communion

ROOM #5: God is Love and Love is God



Room #6: Part 1
On the Heels of NCYC (Part 1)

The second week of Nov., ten of us from St. Margaret Mary’s went to the National Catholic Youth Conference in Columbus, OH. NCYC is a leadership conference for high school students. Unlike some other conferences that are centered on spiritual growth, NCYC is more focused on building teens into leaders of the Catholic faith who lead by what they say, what they do, and what is important in their lives.

NCYC is fun. Imagine 20,000 people in an arena lit by the fire of the Holy Spirit. There are so many great speakers. Also, in the convention center, there are lots of exhibitors hawking their wares, games (laser tag, pool, etc.), workshops, service projects, and music, music, music. NCYC is also a time to reflect on what God is telling us to do with our lives and how we are following that plan. It is inspiring, even for an old guy like me.

I have 2 parts on this experience, because there is so much to talk about. This part, I’ll talk about what I think God was telling me. The second part, I’ll share some observations and something that I learned while at NCYC.

I think God was telling me something during this experience. You may or may not know that I am not one who gets excited about leaving home or worse yet, leaving home to be around hoards of people. Despite the hoards of people, God was smacking me in the head to get me to pay attention. Eventually, I caught on and listened. God was telling me to think about death and what we are trying to gain in the afterlife.

Before I go on, I have to say this: I am not a grief counselor, nor do I pretend to have the answers on this topic (there are qualified people that can help you with this issue if you need them – please, ask for their help if you need it). These are just my thoughts and experiences. I, like you, am just trying to make sense out of the events of our lives.

As you may know, in the first weeks of Nov., St Margaret Mary and Marian Central CHS experienced a tragic loss. A traffic accident took the lives of 2 Marian students and seriously injured two others. In the days leading up to NCYC, many people were trying to cope with the death of young lives. I personally did not have the pleasure of knowing the young people involved in the accident, but I do know those who did and could see that they were suffering (each in their own way) while dealing with this loss.

The funeral mass for one of the students was on the morning right before we left for NCYC. Needless to say, the 7 hours it took to get to Columbus was a somber drive.

Once we arrived at Columbus (we were late, of course), we went to the opening gathering at the arena and discovered that tragedy struck NCYC the night before. A girl from the Las Vegas was walking to McDonald’s to get a late night snack when she was struck and killed in a hit and run accident. During the conference, there were many prayers for her (and the rest of the Las Vegas Dioceses). A prayer wall in the convention center was loaded with prayer intentions for her.

During the conference, I attended a workshop hosted by an artist, Br. Michael O’Brian McGrath, who makes paintings of Jesus, Mary, and the Saints. The workshop was a discussion on the meaning and stories behind his work. One of his paintings was a night scene of a traffic accident involving his friend (who was going to be ordained as a priest two months later). His friend was killed when his car went off the road.

Friday night of NCYC, I was eating dinner with the rest of our group. Four of us were talking about random things, when Tim asked me a question. I suppose with everything happening, the topic of death was bound to come out eventually. Tim asked me how I felt when I heard about the shootings in April ’07 at Virginia Tech (go Hokies!).

I tried to answer Tim, but I think I just bumbled something that probably didn’t make much sense. I hope that writing it helps make it a little more coherent. Since I have been away from VA Tech (go Hokies!) for many years, I don’t really know people there anymore (except a few professors). So, the tragedy did not directly affect me. However, there are two things that I think about that really trouble me.

First, I have an idyllic image of VA Tech (go Hokies!) that has sweetened over time… can’t you tell? This is the place I experienced enormous personal and spiritual growth. When I watch a football game on TV (as painful as it is sometimes), hear about accomplishments of someone from there, or see news articles or pictures of the campus, it reminds me of those college days and makes me feel happy. Now, all of these cherished memories are stained by the actions of a killer. Think about this: Any time you hear about VA Tech (go Hokies!) today, there is always that little tag line, ”…where the massacre happened”.

I also think about how all of that happened at a place I spent a lot of time. I took classes in those buildings; I walked across that Drill Field; and I had friends who lived in that dorm. As silly as it sounds, I think, “If that happened 13 years ago, I might have been killed.” Of course, it didn’t happen 13 years ago and in all likelihood, even if it did, I would not have been killed. But the thoughts of “what if” invade my thoughts and force me to think about my own mortality.

Remember that artist and his painting I mentioned earlier? He uses the symbolism of the moon in that painting. He said that the moon represents God as the light in the darkness that is showing us the way back home (back to God). Through the light of the moon, God was calling his friend to be with him. It may sound cliché, but I think this is true. I tend to think that we are here on Earth for just as long as God needs us here and then God calls us home.

I am not sure how to end this, because I don’t really have an answer or a good way to cope with any of this. Maybe it is as simple as reflecting on why God had these people in our lives. Hopefully, we find out that it was to make us better children of God.

Room #6: Part 2
On the Heels of NCYC (Part 2)

This is part 2 of the discussion about the National Catholic Youth Conference.

Even though they hate when I do it, I always ask those who attend these conferences a question. I want to know what they got out of going. Or, to put it another way, why was it worthwhile to go. After asking this so many times, I can almost predict the answers. Here are a few:

• It was really cool (or fun).
• (on special occasions I get this one) I saw the Pope.
• I got a lot out of it.
• It was neat to see thousands of kids doing the sign of the cross at the same time.
• It got me away from my parents.
• I cried when…

You can tell that these don’t really answer the question. They could have had fun doing something else (going to a movie or hanging out with friends). They could look around at any mass and see lots of people doing the sign of the cross at the same time. They could cry at any time of any day. So, what was different here? Since I expect more, I follow up with another question (this further aggravates them). Like a 2 year old, I ask, “Why?”

I admit that this is a very difficult question. This question goes beyond pointing out an event that was significant (which is usually pretty easy to do). For me, the most powerful moment of the ’07 NCYC was when 20,000 people sang the “Amen” after the Eucharistic Prayer. This wasn’t the normal wimpy, little, church-whisper singing. This was loud enough that I could feel it, as if 20,000 actually believed what just happened…very powerful.

The tricky part of the question is telling someone why that moment was significant. I even need a few days to think about it before answering and I still don’t answer it well. So, don’t feel bad that you can’t put into words what an experience like NCYC has on you.

After a few days of thinking about NCYC, I came up with something. Let me explain using myself as an example:

When I let it happen, I get a spiritual high from these conferences. This high isn’t like my normal feelings (yes, I am a guy and I do have feelings). The first time I felt it, it confused me and I didn’t really know what to do with it. As I attended other conferences, I began getting a better sense of what I was feeling. Here are some examples:

• A sense of connectedness to the church (of course, to the people of the church…not the actual building)
• A sense of clarity of purpose (what to do or not do with my life - how to live)
• An acute closeness to God
• An understanding of why Jesus’ resurrection is so important and why the Eucharist is really the body and blood of Christ
• A motivation to just “do something”
  
  

The emcee at any of these conferences gives a warning that we have to be careful and not let this spiritual high evaporate once we get home. They say to do whatever is needed to keep that high going.  Sure enough, within a few days of getting home (and this happens to almost everyone who attends): “Bye-bye high…come back again.”

So, what gives? Why do we get that high and why does it go away so quickly? I think that we tend to stop living in the presence of God once we get home. Think about this:

Before going to NCYC, I spent weeks (maybe even months) preparing for it…OK, worrying about it. I get anxious about the mass of humanity that I’d have to endure and being away from the comforts of home. The days before NCYC, I scheduled time off from work, packed, and thought about what my role will be (I was a chaperone). I expended a lot of brain power before I even arrived at NCYC.

Once I got to NCYC, I looked over the schedule. I planed what workshops and activities I wanted to attend and what ones I thought others might like to attend. Each day of the conference, I heard 2 or more speakers. The speakers gave emotionally charged talks on how God changed their lives. I admit that these talks do make me misty eyed (that is my manly way of saying that I cried). Some of the talks fired me up and got me excited about God. The music was infectious and made me get up and sing. The lucky few who were there might have seen me doing hand motions to some of the songs (these motions were, of course, confined to a 1 foot space in front of my torso, but they were motions).

After the conference on the way home, I thought about everything that occurred. The group also talked about what they experienced (this was when I asked those annoying questions about what they got out of the experience). Once I got home, I told my wife about what happened (she was a trooper – it took 10 minutes for her eyes to glaze over – normally it takes 2 minutes when I tell her things).

Look at what happened. I invested all of that effort preparing for, participating in, and discussing this experience. For a brief moment in my somewhat busy life, I ate, slept, and lived in God’s presence. There is no way that wouldn’t open up my heart and make me ready to hear what God was telling me. It seems like whenever I hear God talking to me, I am bound to get a spiritual high. So, it stands to reason, that if I always live in God’s presence, I’ll always hear God talking to me and I’ll always have that spiritual high. Imagine what would be possible if instead of spending just a weekend, I spend my whole life living in that presence of God: every time I would say, ”Amen!”, it would sound like 20,000 people in an arena singing it at full volume. Hmmm…

Let’s live the days of our daily grind in God’s presence so we can hear God talking to us. The trick to that is how to do that. Some of us may get to that point in quiet prayer in our room at night, while others may have to “get away” to get to the same point. Either way, I think it is clear that God wants us to make the effort. The rewards are amazing…

 



Room #5
God is Love and Love is God

The other month, Fr. Tony gave a Youth Quake Homily that really spoke to me. He asked everyone how many Cardinal Virtues there were. I, along with many others, guessed “good ‘o lucky 7”. We were, of course, wrong. According to Fr. Tony, the correct answer is 3 Cardinal Virtues. When Fr. Tony asked us to name them, no one had a clue. At that moment, we all collectively looked at our shoes in disgrace.

The 3 Cardinal Virtues are Faith, Hope, and Love. These come from 1 Corinthians 13:13 - “As it is, these remain: faith, hope and love, the three of them; and the greatest of them is love”

This is sort of near and dear to me because, just like virtually everyone else, I had 1 Cor 13 as one of the readings at my wedding (all of 1 Cor 13 is pretty impressive by the way).

Fr. Tony explained the last part, “and the greatest of them is love” by clarifying the other 2:

Faith – This is what you have when you believe in the absence of tangible evidence. Once we go to heaven, we’ll be with God. Faith is no longer needed once we are face to face with God.

Hope – This is what you have when you are missing something that you want or need and believe it will turn out. Again, when we are with God in heaven, we have everything we’ll want or need. Therefore, what more would we hope for?

The last thing left is Love. Since God is love, being with God is being with love. It is the last thing we will ever need, want, or use. It is sort of the goal for our soul.

This brought up a very interesting point. To crudely paraphrase Fr. Tony, “Love is something that we can’t create. Instead, love is something that can be given to us and something we can give to someone else.”

That is sort of like a chain email: it is something you don’t make, but is something you get and send along. At least, I hope that you don’t make it…if you do, stop it! It is really annoying.

Anyway, unlike the unknown source of spam, we know that God is the source of love. God creates it and passes it on to anyone who wants it. When we love our parents, siblings, or friends, we are simply passing on to them the love that God’s gave us.

This explains why we never run out of love and why we always have more to give. As long as we want it, God dishes out the love to us. For example, when we were born, the amount of love in our family didn’t decrease, there was just more of it to go around.

This brings to mind my old computer engineering classes – be patient with me here as I go off the deep end:

Ohm’s Law is used in simple electrical circuits (like a battery and a light bulb) to describe how voltage (V), current (I), and resistance (R) relate to each other: V=IR (or I = V/R). For a given voltage (say from a common AA sized battery), if the resistance increases, the current decreases and fewer electrons can flow through the circuit. The “water through a pipe” analogy is often used to describe Ohm’s Law: a fatter pipe has less resistance and allows more water to flow.

I think we can use this to describe our role in God’s love. If love is the current of electrons, then God is the power source (to supply the voltage) and we are the resisters. Since God supplies all of the love we could ever use, we’ll assume V is constant. If we don’t fully give God’s love to others, we are highly resistive (large R) and will therefore have little love in our lives (small I). However, if we mete out as much love as God offers us, we are not resistive (tiny R) and will therefore have lots of love in our lives (large I).

OK, that is kind of silly and a bit on the “engin-nerd” side of things, but think about it. We are our own worst enemies when it comes to having love in our lives. God is there willing to give us all that we want. Since we are simple humans, we can’t keep that much love for ourselves, so we have to give the love we have to others in order to get more love from God. Kind of a cool concept to live by.

 



Room #4
Everyday can be a First Communion

It’s First Communion Time! I love this time of year when we see all of these little kids dressed up in suits or nice dresses. They look so innocent and trusting.

I have only vague memories of my own First Communion, but I do vividly remember the CCD classes leading up to it. Do I remember learning all of the Catholic theology behind the Eucharist? Ummm, no, I remember practicing receiving Communion using potato chips and cookies.

I, like most of us when we were in the 2nd grade, probably didn’t have much of an understanding of God, religion and especially the significance of the Eucharist. Looking back, I wish I had an understanding of the Eucharist, but I think I just saw it as something that was “special”. I was also now allowed to join my parents and older siblings instead of having to wait in the pew for them to come back.

That’s cool, though. It’s important to have that “kid-like”, blind faith and just know that the Eucharist is important even if we don’t fully know why.

To be honest, I didn’t appreciate the Eucharist until my late 20’s when I was going through one of those faith changing events. My very logical, pea brain was trying to rationalize faith and Catholicism. My main question was, “How is the Eucharist the body and blood of Christ?”

• It doesn’t look like a body
• It doesn’t taste like….well….anything
• Was that a toe I just ate … and does this make me a cannibal?

My logical, pea brain made this rationalization: “The Eucharist is just a representation of Jesus…it isn’t really Jesus’ body and blood.”

This is probably something that you’ve heard people say who were questioning Catholicism or worse yet, criticizing our beliefs.

As I spent more time exploring our Catholic faith, I realized that the Eucharist can’t be explained with logic or reasoning. Once I let go of the human perspective that we have to understand everything, I let my tiny bit of faith take over and my life as not been the same since.

Here it is: the Eucharist is the body and blood of Christ…yes, physically the body and blood of Christ. It is not a representation and it is not a symbol. I kid you not…it is the actual body and blood of Christ.

“Whoa! But, seriously…how can that be?”

Faith, that’s how. It comes down to faith and what you believe in your heart.

Here’s a thought. During Easter, we hear stories of the resurrected Jesus who is human…but not really. He transcended death, so he doesn’t have the same human limitations as us. Here are some examples:

• Jesus eats and drinks
• He takes on the appearance of a beggar (on the Road to Emmaus)
• He breathes on people and lets them stick their fingers in his wounds
• He shows up inside locked rooms

Our faith lets us believe that Jesus can do all of that. So, why is it a stretch to believe that Jesus can take on the form of the consecrated host?

It is faith that makes eating a slice of Wonder Bread different than eating the Eucharist. When I eat Wonder Bread, I think, “There really isn’t much to this fluffy, white bread and the peanut butter just rips it to shreds.” When I take Communion, I think and more importantly I feel many different things:

• Jesus is physically in me
• I become one (commune, if you will) with God and his church
• I experience the suffering that Jesus went through for my sins (a deterrent against sin)
• Weekly mass doesn’t seem like a sacrifice compared to Jesus’ sacrifice
• I am filled with Jesus’ love (a love we should share with everyone)
• I am getting God’s graces to help me fight the power of sin
• Ahhh, this is why we have a mass…to celebrate the glory of the Eucharist

Once I let my faith do my thinking, I was able to have a real “First Communion”.

If we think about that, every mass can be our First Communion.

 



Room #3
“Hey, look at that. It’s really shiny.”

Let me share a little story. I was at World Youth Day (WYD) in Toronto (in Canada…check a map if you don’t believe me). Since it was a pilgrimage, WYD wasn’t supposed to provide 4 star accommodations and happy fun times. In theory, the hardships experienced during the pilgrimage are supposed to make the pilgrims more open to the Holy Spirit. Even though I was not there as a “youth participant”, I hoped to get something from the experience. I thought, “Anywhere that the Holy Father (the Pope) and about a bazillion people of faith were, the Holy Spirit was bound to come.” Either something was going to happen or I was going to get my money back.

Well, the hardships began from the outset:

• The first night was spent in a non-air-conditioned, dorm-like room in Detroit. I think it was a gazillion degrees and I must have dropped 20 pounds in sweat that night.
• Long bus rides are never fun, especially when the chemical toilet smells.
• The human hoards (those bazillion people) converging on a single subway turnstile. That was far too many people, far too close to me, touching me far too much.
• Sleep! I had none. One roommate snored worse than my Dad.
• Food! Sure it was edible, but certainly not the best tasting.
• No caffeine! As I recall, I didn’t have any Coke that whole weekend and my body went into shock. I missed my “dark-syrup-water” mistress.
• Walking and standing all day.

And of course, sleeping on a parking lot in the rain the night of the Vigil was uncomfortable.

Even through all of that, the Holy Spirit wormed its way into me and I felt God’s presence. Pope John Paul II challenged everyone to go be the “Light to the World” (Matthew 5:13) and gave the Mass on the last day. It was long – “Father Mike-times-ten” long, but Pope Masses usually are long. What did I expect? Offering up all of those hardships to God did open my heart to welcome the Holy Spirit.

Now for my D.A. moment (that’s “Dopey Antic” moment - what did you think it was?): right before Eucharist, I was watching Pope JP II giving the blessings and beginning to distribute the Eucharist. At this very moment, I had an overwhelming urge to make sure my bags were properly packed and ready to go. I turned around and rifled through my backpack. I looked up and Communion was over. I missed “Pope Communion”! What a freaking mo-ron!

When I think about that moment, I am not really mad that I missed “Pope Communion”. I am mad that I was so easily distracted. I was like a two year old mesmerized by a shiny nickel he found in the street, I lost sight of what was most important at the exact moment when nothing else should have been more important.

This is an obvious example of being distracted and missing God, but think about all the times in a normal day that we lose sight of what is important. God is giving us plenty of opportunities to choose him over unimportant things in our lives.  Ask yourself these questions:

• At night, do you spend 5 minutes in prayer before going sleep or do you feel too tired and just climb into bed and snooze?
• Do you focus on my school work or do you think it’s not important to use your God-given talents to do your best in everything you do?
• Do you go on a family outing to the “Highway 9 Bird Sanctuary” or do you skip out on them and go to that party where you can have a few brews?
• Do you sleep in on Sundays or wake up, shower and go to church?

There are a few scriptures that I think are relevant here (look them up). I’ll hit Luke, because I am in a sort of a Star Wars mood.

Luke 10:38-42 is the story of Jesus visiting Martha and Mary (one of my favorites). Recall, Mary did all of this house work while Martha sat and listened to Jesus. Jesus said that Martha knew what was important and made the right choice. Jesus wasn’t going to be around forever and she made good use of her time with him.

Luke 22:45-46 is the story of Jesus praying at the Mount of Olives before his crucifixion. Jesus knew what was about to happen and all he asked was that the disciples keep watch. They fell asleep. Put ourselves in Jesus’ sandals and imagine how POed we would be if people couldn’t stay focused for just a few hours.

Luke 12:35-40 is the story of the Watchful Servant and not knowing what time the servant’s master would return (Jesus compared it to not knowing when a thief would come in the night). Jesus reminds us that we don’t know when God will come for us. We need to be alert all the time.

Let’s stay focused on what’s important and avoid those shiny nickels that we run across in our lives.

 


Room #2
Should I be wearing a bridal gown?

That sounds like an odd question for a guy to ask, but follow me on this one:

I thought about this question recently while listening to one of the Gospel readings where Jesus talked about being a bridegroom.

Jesus said that he is the bridegroom (Mark 2:18-22) and the church is his bride. The church is also referred to as a “community of the faithful” – in other words all of us. So, if we follow that logic, we are all married and we are all the chicks of the marriage. Hence, the question, “Should I be wearing a bridal gown?”

As I followed that train of thought, I began to feel….well, dainty and pretty. After that extremely uncomfortable moment, I began to think about my wedding.

At my wedding, there were quite a few people: proud family members, friends, and some people I had not seen in a long time. There was a big ceremony and a touching, “I do.” Afterwards, there was a party with food, cake and presents. It was quite the scene.

Being the bride, I must have looked really pretty in my bridal gown, though I don’t actually remember what it looked like (I have obviously repressed that little nugget).

In any event, that was the start of my marriage. Without a doubt, marriage has not been easy. There were lots of demands on my time and attention. I was no longer “just thinking for yourself” – I had to consider my bridegroom.

“Wait, did he just say ‘his bridegroom’ and did he say that he was a bride?”

Alright, take it easy everyone…I am not describing some twisted, secret part of my life…and I am not describing my wedding to my wife (where I certainly wasn’t wearing a dress…really, I have pictures to prove it). I am talking about my Confirmation.

Think about this, Confirmation is the first sacrament that is truly our own. Baptism and First Communion were not really our decisions. We did it because our parents made us. Confirmation is a little different. We are empowered to say “I do” or “I am saying I do, but I don’t care one way or the other.” (I call this the shotgun Confirmation – your parents are making you do it).

I’ll be honest; I did not fully appreciate Confirmation when I went through it ages ago. I didn’t object to it, but I didn’t understand it or really understand to what I was agreeing. I did, however, have an open mind (as open as a teenager’s mind could be) which allowed me to “see the light” a little later in my life.

So, with a newlywed’s experience, I’ll say this: Confirmation is a lot like a wedding. You were dating Jesus before. You thought he was alright, you went to the movies (Sunday Mass), you may have kissed (Communion), and you may even have talked to each other a few times (prayed), but there was no commitment. You always had that option to cut him loose and walk away…there was no “ring” on your finger to tie (or anchor) you down.

Then you have your Confirmation (i.e. you stop dating and you tie the knot). With a simple, “I do” and a so-so party, your swinging bachelorette days are over. You are now spoken for and begin your marriage.

You’ll find marriage tough. There is a lot of responsibility and sometimes disappointment, frustration, and fear of having this stranger in your life. Thankfully, other things out-weigh all of that: joy, happiness, security, and love. I hope that all of you experience that good stuff soon.

It’s great to be married and it’s even better to be married to Jesus.


 


Room #1
An Easter Lesson

The sprinkling of Holy Water during the Easter is something that happens everywhere in the Catholic Church. Every year, this reminds me of why I do certain things in church. If you see me in church, you might notice that I often sit in the middle of the pew. There is a reason for this and the reason goes back to a traumatic experience I once had in church.

Where I went to college, at Va. Tech (Go Hokies!), Catholic mass was held by the Newman Community in the War Memorial Chapel. As I understand, this is a common community on college campuses and is not unique to Va. Tech (Go Hokies!). Anyway, this community was funded in part by penniless college students tithing what is left over from the previous night's beer runs. It did not really have the prettiest or the most ornate "churchy things". This was contrary to my experiences at the church where I grew up, St. Mark's, which was well funded with big, ornate, and shiny things.

Going from a church with "golden" (or at least real shiny brass) chalices and plates to one with dumpy, pottery ones, I got the sense that not all churches are "rich". This filled me with a sort of warming sense of connection since I didn't have much money either while in college at Va. Tech (Go Hokies!).

During Easter, our priest didn't have the lovely, golden, perforated ball on a stick thing to neatly flick water on everyone. So, instead of seeing a priest with a little bucket and perforated ball on a stick, I saw our priest coming down the aisle with a giant, glass salad bowl filled with water and a huge clump of palm fronds. He dunked the fronds into the salad bowl and flicked the water logged fronds at the small row of pews.

I am not sure if it is easy to visualize how much water 50 palm fronds holds, but I can say that it took a good hour to fully dry off. That was the last day I wanted to sit on the aisle side of a pew.

Getting wet is one thing. The real issue was that the "holy dowsing" triggered a memory of a trauma earlier in my childhood.

Growing up in my house, the kids were expected to do many of the household chores. The chores rotated through each kid. So, one week I might have to do something, while the next week, my sister would have to do it. Two of these chores were to clear the table and wash the dishes. While the kids were doing this, my parents went downstairs to drink their coffee and read the paper (ahh, the life of the old folks…).

On one particular occasion, my older brother was doing the dishes and I was clearing the table. While at the kitchen sink, my brother turned to me and said, "Hey, how would to like to play 'Priest'?"

A wave of conflict flooded over me. On one hand, I thought about First Communion where we "practiced" communion with potato chips and Oreos. I thought, "Maybe he's going to give me a cookie Communion Wafer. That would be good since I liked cookies.

On the other hand, anytime your older brother wants to "play" anything is good time to be cautious. So despite my better judgment, I reluctantly said, "OK?" With positive confirmation of willingness, he pulled from the sink a filthy, scrub pad and flicked the "unholy dish water" on me. As brothers will be brother, this quickly escalated into a full blown brawl on the kitchen floor.

Roaring from downstairs, we heard, "What the * is going on up there?" Both my brother and I paused in mid-punch and responded in unison, "Nothing…"  I was hurt really bad and I there was no prospect of getting an Oreo to sooth my aches.

So, the lesson I learned was, "Don't sit on the aisle of a pew during Easter and don't ever play "Priest" with your older brother."