When Matthew was six or seven years old, one day after church, we went to Cheryl's parents' home for brunch. My mother-in-law served us some juice and got us a plate of food. Matthew was uncharacteristically grumpy and out of sorts. I asked him what was bothering him, but he had no good answer.
After a few minutes, I had had enough of his attitude and asked him to step into another room. I asked him what was bothering him...
I hate the Pope!
What? You don't like the Pope?
Nope.
Why not?
I dunno... I just don't like the Pope.
The head of the Catholic Church... You don't like him?
No... not that guy... the stuff in the orange juice.
Okay... that is called pulp... and you can go get yourself some milk.
Problem solved.
Now I have my own Pope problem. He came to town and I was completely shut out. The Pope came to town and I did not get a sniff of the guy. No Masses, no speeches, no glimpse of His Holiness in his little Pope Mobile.
No sir... I did not get the Willie Wonka ticket!
And if Facebook is any indication, everyone else did get the golden ticket and had the opportunity to hang out with Il Papa.
Seriously... friends, neighbors, and fellow parish members were all over the place,
And you can say what you want about his agenda (which I will in a minute) but he makes himself available to the people. It got to the point that I thought that the folks were passing around the church's cardboard cutout of the guy.
He even left all of those powerful politicians on the Senate floor and had breakfast with the homeless. My guess is that he wanted to go someplace quieter where people weren't begging him for money!
Seriously, this dude is like a rock star playing venues in Washington, D.C., New York City, and Philadelphia. Like an old, slow talking, energetic rock star. Picture Mick Jagger with an accent... a Spanish accent, not his regular British one.
I don't understand why I did not get selected to attend any of the three days' worth of events. I attend church every week. I give money every week. I even run that stupid Labor Day Festival for the church every year. That has to be worth something.
You know, I was even at the church the night that they picked out the lucky winners of the tickets to attend the Papal Mass. I specifically told them how to spell my last name. Still... nothing!
It has to be Cheryl... clearly, she is not doing enough.
Truth be told, it could be my fault. You see, the Pope and I don't see eye to eye on everything. Ever since he was selected, he has stopped consulting me on various issues. As a result, he has said some things that I do not agree with.
Some folks tried to attribute these statements to "getting lost in translation." And I accepted that... the first time. The third, fourth and fifth time, I came to my own conclusion that he really meant what he was saying.
Now don't get me wrong, I am not out there declaring that the Emperor has no clothes. I am just saying that I don't like all of the clothes that he wears and... I wish that he would wear more of the clothes that I like.
And I have to admit, I am really struggling with this.
Like all Catholics, I go to confession once a week, er, uh month.... Okay I go about three or four times a year. One thing that I have discussed with the priest is that I get frustrated with things and want them to be the way that I want them. I am always reminded that it is not my will that shall be done but His will that shall be done.
God has seen to it that this Pope will have this position at this time, and God has his own plan, whatever it may be. I just wish that the Pope was more direct about the life of the unborn when he spoke before Congress.... Dang it! There I go again!
Truth be told, I am sure that in D.C., he made almost every politician squirm just a little bit and that's not such a bad thing.
God's plan will be revealed and I need to be open to whatever that plan may be. Pray for me. Pray for Pope Francis.
No sir... I did not get the Willie Wonka ticket!
And if Facebook is any indication, everyone else did get the golden ticket and had the opportunity to hang out with Il Papa.
Seriously... friends, neighbors, and fellow parish members were all over the place,
And you can say what you want about his agenda (which I will in a minute) but he makes himself available to the people. It got to the point that I thought that the folks were passing around the church's cardboard cutout of the guy.
He even left all of those powerful politicians on the Senate floor and had breakfast with the homeless. My guess is that he wanted to go someplace quieter where people weren't begging him for money!
Seriously, this dude is like a rock star playing venues in Washington, D.C., New York City, and Philadelphia. Like an old, slow talking, energetic rock star. Picture Mick Jagger with an accent... a Spanish accent, not his regular British one.
I don't understand why I did not get selected to attend any of the three days' worth of events. I attend church every week. I give money every week. I even run that stupid Labor Day Festival for the church every year. That has to be worth something.
You know, I was even at the church the night that they picked out the lucky winners of the tickets to attend the Papal Mass. I specifically told them how to spell my last name. Still... nothing!
It has to be Cheryl... clearly, she is not doing enough.
Truth be told, it could be my fault. You see, the Pope and I don't see eye to eye on everything. Ever since he was selected, he has stopped consulting me on various issues. As a result, he has said some things that I do not agree with.
Some folks tried to attribute these statements to "getting lost in translation." And I accepted that... the first time. The third, fourth and fifth time, I came to my own conclusion that he really meant what he was saying.
Now don't get me wrong, I am not out there declaring that the Emperor has no clothes. I am just saying that I don't like all of the clothes that he wears and... I wish that he would wear more of the clothes that I like.
And I have to admit, I am really struggling with this.
Like all Catholics, I go to confession once a week, er, uh month.... Okay I go about three or four times a year. One thing that I have discussed with the priest is that I get frustrated with things and want them to be the way that I want them. I am always reminded that it is not my will that shall be done but His will that shall be done.
God has seen to it that this Pope will have this position at this time, and God has his own plan, whatever it may be. I just wish that the Pope was more direct about the life of the unborn when he spoke before Congress.... Dang it! There I go again!
Truth be told, I am sure that in D.C., he made almost every politician squirm just a little bit and that's not such a bad thing.
God's plan will be revealed and I need to be open to whatever that plan may be. Pray for me. Pray for Pope Francis.
Please understand that unlike my son, I do not hate the Pope.
But before I conclude I have to be completely honest about one thing. Although I am working on being less judgmental and open to God's will, I have to come clean on one thing...
I am not that crazy about the pulp!
But before I conclude I have to be completely honest about one thing. Although I am working on being less judgmental and open to God's will, I have to come clean on one thing...
I am not that crazy about the pulp!
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