All the Catholics out there say, "Ho!": A Communion etiquette question

Wow. I'm at least 20 years in arrears. Most Catholics are I suspect.

 

Last time I did was before I got confirmed. And that was about 13 years ago.

 

I never got confirmed, but the Catholic church granted my marriage anyway. Got lucky and found a liberal-minded parish.

Others are not so lucky on things much more innocuous than my not being confirmed, I've heard some nasty horror stories of ostracism by the church over the years.

 

All too easy, Buck ...



NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!

 

Waterboarding has nothing on having to sit through a reading of the Passion.

 

Yep. It all depends on the diocese. In Chicago, it was harsh. In the suburbs, my family was lucky to find a very nice, more-liberal parish.

 

Two of my brothers were married in the Catholic church, neither at our home cathedral.

One brother had to be married in an Anglican church, since that's the bride's faith. Damn near gave my mother a heart attack.

Of course, it will probably kill her when I tell her it's City Hall or an imitation Elvis for me.

 

Immaculate Conception, 1965-'74.

 

Awesome. As an altar boy, it was even better. You could scope girls while sitting in a comfortable chair.

 

But back in the day, I saw a dude balancing his checkbook during the homily. I haven't been to church in years. Crap like that is one of the zillion reasons why.

 

That sounds about right for me too.

This thread reminds me of my two most awkward church memories. Right before I got Confirmed, I had an interview of sorts with the deacon making sure I was a good kid and all that. Everything went great until he asked me how often I went to church. "About twice a month," I said. I thought he was going to have a stroke. Hey, he's an agent of God. I'm not going to lie.

"well uhh uhh uhh you should really go more often," he stammered. Then he reminded me to go three or four more times before I left. I did, because I didn't want my mom to get the rep of Deviant Catholic Mom.

A few years ago, my sister and brother-in-law were singing in the church choir and my mom wanted my fiancee and I to hear them during Easter Mass. Realize, first, that my wife is technically Jewish, but is for all intents and purposes an agnostic who is incredibly uncomfortable with organized religion. You should have seen my mother's face when I told her THAT back in the day.

Anyway, I should have seen this coming a mile away, but I wanted to give my mom the benefit of the doubt. So I ignored the voice in my head that said "She's trying to convert her future daughter-in-law before the non-religious wedding ceremony in June" and implored my fiancee to go. "C'mon," I said, "it'll mean a lot to my sister and it'll only be an hour."

Well, we were so far back in the church that my sister and brother-in-law couldn't have seen us with binoculars. And it was Easter EVE Mass. It was 2 1/2 hours. After about 15 minutes, my fiancee started glaring at me. You know the one: The "this is all your fault and I'm going to remind you of how much this sucked for the remainder of the millenium" glare.

In a desperate attempt to display solidarity with my fiancee, I remained seated when we had to kneel in prayer. That lasted one prayer. On the second, my dad flicked my shoulder, glared at me and pointed at the pew.

Dad or fiancee? Dad or fiancee? Dad or fiancee? Man who sired me or woman who will have my balls in a vise for the rest of eternity?

I kneeled. Fortunately, my fiancee was so angry with everything else that it barely registered. The next day, dad apologized and said he thought I should kneel but that he respected why I wasn't.

Walking out of the church, my mom taps my fiancee on the shoulder and says "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was going to be that long." Uh huh. At that point, mom had been a devout church-goer for 54 years. Catholic passive-aggressiveness at its finest.

I get in the car and my fiancee says "We are going drinking." And she never drinks. So she and I and my aunt and her boyfriend pounded a couple back at a restaurant near my parents house, and somehow I still got married three months later.

 

They say a sign of senility is repeating yourself. Perhaps the dickhead and spnited have more in common than they'd like to admit.