This past weekend was my cousin Lauren's confirmation. For all of you non-Catholics out there, its a ceremony where she is microchipped by the Holy Spirit. Baptism is when you get accepted into the club, but Confirmation is when you pledge your allegiance and they hold you to that. Forever.
It is an intense process that involves Sunday classes, homework, Bible study, community service, and prayer memorization. The whole process takes about 2 years and in the end you are rewarded with oil on your head and money from your family who have also been microchipped. The reason I am bringing all of this up is because Lauren had asked me to be her sponsor. One who walks with her and guides her on the path of the righteous.
Quit laughing.
Fast forward to the big day - actually I should preface this whole story by saying that my great grandmother's name was Cecelia, so my aunt's confirmation name was Cecilia, MY confirmation name was Cecelia (and my aunt was my sponsor), and Lauren's confirmation name was....can you guess? CECELIA. Irish Catholics tend to stick with what they know. -
Anyway, so arrive at the church (St. Cecelia's Cathedral - coincidence? I think not) around 1:30pm so we can get her robe put on and get signed in. I give them her name and they give me instructions on what to do as a sponsor: Hand card to priest. Put right hand on confirmandi's shoulder. Walk back to pew. HOLD ON, let me grab a pencil and write this all down! I had to wonder which sponsor screwed up these basic instructions so bad that going forward they thought they had to act it out in order to gain comprehension. After I assertively nodded that I understood my role, we set out to find a seat in one of the pews.
St. Cecilia's is a beautiful Cathedral but unfortunately the pews were not made with comfort in mind. Creaky wood pews and kneelers that probably still had the same padding in them from the 70s. Oh well, I thought to myself, we will only be here for an hour -I can tough it out. Hindsight tells me that my thought process was nothing more than a lollipop dream. We had arrived so early that I decided it would be an appropriate time to check my Facebook. Apparently God had other plans because there was no wi-fi available, which rendered my phone useless. Crumbs! Well then, time to play my favorite game of "stare at people as they walk in to make them feel uncomfortable" (works every time). Finally 30 minutes had passed by and it was time to get the old show on the road.
The Archbishop was there, which little did I know meant the mass was automatically an extra hour long. Everything was sung instead of spoken (think Gregorian chanting) and the homily was borderline record breaking for how long it was. I am not trying to be disrespectful with this blog post, however traditional Catholic masses can be such a drag. Fast forward TWO HOURS later and we were finally finished. We took some pictures and then headed to my aunt's house for food and drinks in order to celebrate the newest Catholic in our family.
I think the traditional Catholic mass needs to add a little spice to it, but I know that's just wishful thinking. Surely I am not the only one who wonders why we attend church when it is just a bunch of people going through the motions? I need to find a church that makes me want to be there, not feel like I have to be there because its the "right thing to do". Perhaps make Church a wi-fi hot spot, that would attract new parishioners.
