Monday, February 27, 2012

Frustrations in Service

I'm early for just about everything, from work to movies, Mass to airports.  I hate being late.  When commuting I pad my commute time with an extra 30-45 minutes, when going to an airport, I'm there at least 1.5-2 hours prior to takeoff.  When going to Mass, I try to be there about 30 minutes early, particularly if I'm singing (to warm up and go over my music). I just don't understand those special people who can walk into Mass after the readings have been read, or into movies 10 minutes into the movie (not the credits or previews, but the movie).  I find these special people are the same ones who like to talk louder than a megaphone while in church or the movies.


I have a special love of the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, and I'm blessed to be able to have a place to worship that way very close to home.  I'm a part of a VERY small choir (usually there are only two of us) and we sing the propers and hymns a Capella.


The propers change weekly, and since they are in Latin, they can be a bit difficult. A recent Sunday was no different.  The Gradual (which is sung between the Epistle and the Gospel) was 15 verses that particular week, and some of them were tongue twisters.  The woman I sing with showed up 10 minutes before Mass (I had already chosen the offertory and communion songs as well as the song sung during the Final Gospel).  Ten minutes!  We didn't even have enough time to go over the Gradual prior to Mass starting. I understand she has been worshipping in this form for years and is familiar with the various chant sequences so doesn't really need to go over the tune (just the words).


Is it too much to ask that when you are serving a community in this way that you show up to Mass early enough to go through ALL the music so that the worship goes smoothly and you aren't stumbling?  When we, as a choir, fumble in the music it is distracting to those who are worshipping with us.  We become a stumbling block for them instead of assisting them in their worship.


Maybe it is just me and I'm too demanding and high maintenance in this way.  I know this is my issue and not hers.  Patience is a virtue, but lately I haven't been feeling very virtuous.  I've been feeling judgmental and impatient.  OK, God, I get it.  I know I have to work on this, but do the opportunities in which to do so have to come so frequently?  Do I at least get partial credit for keeping my mouth shut instead of ripping her a new one?

Sunday, February 26, 2012

First Sunday of Lent

Psalm 25
R. Your ways, O Lord, are love and truth to those who keep your covenant.
Remember that your compassion, O LORD,
and your love are from of old.
In your kindness remember me,
because of your goodness, O LORD.




Today is the First Sunday of Lent, a journey of reflection and penance preparing us for Easter and the Resurrection that began this past Wednesday with receiving our smudges on our foreheads.  As a Catholic, we are pretty well known for our rules and regulations.  You would have to have lived under a rock to not know that Catholics don't eat meat on Fridays in Lent without sinning.  We are known for our Lenten Fish Frys.


Catholics split sin into two categories: mortal and venial.  Mortal sin is called that because it kills our relationship with God (venial is still disobeying God, but it doesn't kill the relationship).  It severs our connection with him.  No one sins mortally by accident.  It requires grave matter, it has to be intentional (full consent), and you have to know it's grave matter (full knowledge).  We can kid ourselves and others, but we can't kid Him.  God knows if all three conditions are met.


I remember one Friday morning in Lent, I ordered a bacon, egg and cheese on a roll  with a LARGE coffee at a deli on my way to work.  Shortly after I ate it, someone walked by my desk saying "Happy Friday".  "Oh shit, it's Friday", I thought.  I was horrified that I had eaten meat; I was surely going to Hell.  Then I thought about it for a minute...it was early and I had forgotten it was Friday, which means I didn't have full knowledge at the time.  I didn't set out to say "Ha!  It's Friday, no one is going to tell ME what to eat!"  I didn't intend to "disobey".  God IS good.  He knows us intimately, and He knows when we are intentionally breaking the rules and when we aren't.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Finding love after 40

When I was in high school and college, once I started dating I really wasn't without a beau for very long.  Guys were coming out of the woodwork.  I think I might have been "single" for about a month, maybe two, at a time.  Of course, at that time I thought it better to be with someone, even the wrong someone, than alone.  


Somewhere in my late 20s I decided, after a particularly bad relationship, to do a little soul searching. I stopped dating or even looking for a significant period of time because I knew that I was the common denominator in all of those failed relationships and I had to figure out why.  I realized that I was terrified of being abandoned, so I developed a nasty habit of trying to predict what these guys wanted and tried to fill that mold instead of just being myself. I also realized that I was in love with the idea of being in love.  Those two things made any potential relationship a lose-lose proposition.


When I was ready to date again, the plethora of guys that I used to have dried up.  Where did they all go?  I mean, I know I was older, but so were they, weren't they?  


I tried the online dating thing. I spent several years on multiple dating sites, some more specific to a demographic than others.  I made some really good friends on one of them (it had message boards and members held various events all around the country) and even went to Ireland last year with a group of them (more on that later).   My beau and I met online through mutual friends. And we fell in love (with each other).


Dating in my 40s is very different from dating in my teens and 20s. There are more responsibilties and people to consider. I've met men from the online dating sites over the years, some I'm still friends with, others I will never see nor hear from again (thank God).  I'm always amused at people's reactions to us.  Some are happy for us. Some are not.  But their issues with my choices are theirs: I refuse to make them mine.