. . . Seriously, that is what I used to think the song actually said.

Ahem.

Why is it that while I am surrounded with God’s glorious creation, where I have no earthly (and certainly not an unearthly) reason to be bored, where each moment is alive with potential, I choose to watch the Real Housewives of New Jersey?  Or, worse, why do I choose to read the blogs of these women, the comments on those blogs, and then Google the latest news on Jon and Kate Plus 8?  Is this the sort of thing confession would help?

Funny thing about confession.  One might think I wouldn’t be interested in such a thing, being a Methodist and all.  And you would be correct, except that as of this past Easter I joined the warm fold of Rome.  I’m playing for another team. 

Let me answer from FAQs I have gotten due to my recent subtle shift in religious affiliation:

Didn’t you want to be ordained?

Well, yes.  From about 1996-2006 this was a definite goal.  But little by little committees and people who may or may not have been older white males whittled away at my resolve until I was sick of the whole process.  Seldom if ever did I see God during that, my honest attempt.  At least the Catholic church is upfront on not ordaining women.  It won’t string me along for a decade only to decide that my theology isn’t quite up to snuff.

Why Catholic?  Isn’t that a little extreme?

Maybe for some.  But I didn’t really think so.  Transubstantiation?  On board.  Seven sacraments?  Sure.  Nicene Creed?  Word.  Also, my husband and daughter are Catholic and it made me sad to see them go up to Communion together and I’d be left sitting in the pew feeling all heathen and resentful of many a proud Wesleyan tradition.

So what are you, like, going to do for a job?

Oh, who knows.  Before I always sort of wanted to try pro-surfing.  This is still always an option. 

Do you find anything different now that you’re Catholic?

Yes, actually.  I find the mandatory attendance at the liturgy of the word is good for me, as before I could skip church and think nothing of it.  And I enjoy this whole “patron saint” thing.  I feel like I have people, an entourage, a posse.  Granted they are dead, but their connections to power?  People would KILL for them.  HA!  Get it?  Kill?  Saints were often martyrs?  HA!

Oh yeah.  I know the Vatican is ready for ALLLLL THIS.