Holy Week Ruminations: Passion Sunday

Being a priest means disappointing my grandfather, something I never wanted to do. He says I should make my fortune as a writer. He's got strange concepts of how easy it is to make a fortune since his came so easily. My grandfather is my favorite living person, he looks like Sean Connery and made his living as a double-aught character himself. He plans on getting into Heaven when he dies because he was an altar boy and makes generous donations to Harvard Divinty School. He's my favorite person and the one person it hurts me most to disappoint.

And yet, as I stood behind the altar for just a moment during my sacristan duties- it just felt right. But that's not all that felt right, washing the communion dishes felt right, pouring the wine down the piscina felt right (well, as much as throwing away wine ever feels right) all the little nuts and bolts felt right. Not fun, especially, but right.

Of course, I prayed what I always pray for; discernment, discipline, clarity.

Maybe someday I'll even get some.