Pope HilariousWritten by Ray Shay

Pope Francis

I think most of you know I grew up in a large, lower middle class, Catholic family in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  The high, dry desert where I did my fair share of kneeling, praying, and tried my very best to stay awake in church.  I recall as a kid, drifting off to sleep while in the front row pew at a packed Sunday Mass at Our Lady of Annunciation Church.   

I was awakened by the voice of an elderly church usher as he shook my right shoulder and said, "wake up son." To my horror, the church was now empty.  I quickly wiped the drool from my adolescent chin and scooted out the side exit of the church.  As I started walking briskly home, I recall whispering to myself that my mom better never find out that I had fallen asleep in the middle of mass.  

After about a block, I foolishly thought I had actually dodged the embarrassment of it all until cars driving past me leaving the crowded church parking lot began to honk their horns and some kids yelled out, "Hey, there he is!  Hey wake up!  Ha Ha Ha."  Sometimes small towns are not as great as people say. 

I didn't do much better as an altar boy.  I guess my heart was really not into it and I would sometimes get, "the look" from the priests.   I soon learned to arrive late and stand or sit in the way back.  My mom would sometimes ask when I returned home who the priest was and did I receive communion.  I think it was just a ploy to make sure I did not leave mass early. 

Once when mass was being held in our Catholic school gymnasium, I was the last person standing in line to receive communion.  I happen to be behind a large man who was in front of me who ultimately received the Holy Eucharist and turned to the right to return to his seat. 

I obediently stepped forward as I had been trained with my hands clasped and began to bow my head as I prepared to close my eyes and extend my tongue to receive holy communion.  I was aghast when to my surprise, the priest had turned and was walking up the steps to the stage which was the temporary altar.  His green and white robe was slowly flowing behind him.   

You could have heard a pin drop as the congregation saw me standing there all alone in front of the altar/gymnasium stage that due to a combination of my small stature and the height of the altar the priest could again, not see me.  Then some kids, (probably the same ones who had yelled from their parent's cars years earlier) started snickering and a few people tried in vain to discreetly alert the priest.   

The pressure was just too much.  I could not wait any longer.  I made an abrupt u-turn and looked at the sea of faces staring at me as I walked back down the center aisle to my seat.  A dark cloud of Catholic guilt hung above my head, as I prayed my mom would just not ask, when I got home.  Looking back, it must have looked pretty funny, but I still remember not laughing. 

I guess it was just the way my luck has always been with the Catholic Church. Over the years, I looked at my relationship with my religion like a teeter totter.  Sometimes good and yet more frequently, not so good.   On one end was the negative, non-smiling priests who I was honestly afraid of and a few bad apples who had so severly damaged our religions reputation over the years, by abusing children and the incompetent supervision which not only tolerated the behavior, but covered up their unthinkable crimes.  

The other negative I always saw especially on the beat as a police officer, is the feeling that God sometimes falls asleep at the switch.  If St. Peter ever lets me meet him, (which is a toss of the dice) I hope to break out an old yellowed and frequently folded piece of paper with some dates and names on it.  I just want to understand why he let those things happen.  

It seems the only thing from the Catholic church that would always push up the positive end of that old wooden teeter totter was one particular person.  I could never forget her.  Her name is Sister Sharon.   

Sharon had followed her heart and joined the order of the Carmelite nuns which is one of the strictest cloistered convents in the Catholic Church.  Sister Sharon had bright red curly hair that would frequently poke out under her very official looking black and white veil or hang down to her shoulders resting comfortably on her neatly pressed matching habit.    

Boy, could she make me laugh.  The type of funny belly laugh that sometimes I couldn't stop.  I know when I was just an infant, Sharon probably tossed me in the air and kissed my chubby cheeks.  With the flash of her bright blue eyes and quick wit, she could get our entire family laughing.  A family of seven kids; which she was one of them.

My big sister Sharon and I

I always felt good and happy around both of my sisters Sharon and Patricia,  despite them both being badly outnumbered by my four brothers and I.  They each had a certain magical way of bringing laughter into our sometimes over stressed home environment, where both our families Irish humor and tempers frequently flared. 

I thought Sharon was the only person in the Catholic Church who could raise me up and make me laugh.  Someone who could see the fun and human side while representing a religious faith.  She often suggested or joked, "Raymond you should think about being a priest."  Oh boy.  I would smile and laugh at that one, but I always knew my destiny was to be a cop. 

That all changed when I recently heard about our new Pope Francis and how he seems to be bringing a new perspective to the Catholic Church and the 1.2 billion people he leads.   I read the following article about Pope Francis calling the newspaper delivery person in his Argentinan apartment and telling him personally, he would have to cancel his newspaper subscription.  I almost knocked over my morning coffee as I busted up laughing while reading the story.   Click Here to read story!  

My sisters, Sharon and Patricia

Pope Francis also unceremoniously ditched the glass "Popemobile" and began walking among his flock.  This amazing man even washed prisoner's feet instead of the safe call, of his fellow clergy. 

I smiled as I thought, it is BFT, ( aBout St. Francis Time) that the Catholic Church put someone in charge who is humble enough to be human.  I have great respect for anyone who is promoted, becomes incredibly rich and famous, or is selected to be Pope and does not forget where they came from.   

I thought of Jerry Sanders when I read the story. Former Chief of Police and Mayor of San Diego, he gets it.  He will always be "Jerry."   I know he does not have the qualifications, or the desire to be our Pope but maybe he could be invited to be the Pope's friend for a day.  The armored "Popemobile" could be used to transport around a keg of ice cold San Diego craft beer while Jerry and Pope Francis walked along and, "chatted it up."  Maybe he could get the Pope to lighten up a little more and embrace all the beautiful perceived imperfections that make each of us so unique. 

This weekend also happened to be very special one for our family.  We were in St. Michael's Church in Poway, attending our youngest son Ryan's first communion.   As the mass went on and Monseigneur Dolan spoke, smiled, and laughed, I felt the teeter totter rising up.  I then saw all the beautiful children in their Sunday best walking up to receive communion.  

The lump in my throat would not go away.   I was in awe as I witnessed the next generation of children approaching the altar with their eyes filled with both hope and promise of a better future.  One where everyone is more accepting of our differences and more appreciative for the contributions people make to improve our children and our ever changing society.  

As I left mass, I had to chuckle as the kids raced around and ate donuts and I took some of  the pictures of the children and their families (see Paparazzi).  It was not a belly laugh and my sister Sharon was not being goofy in her black  and white outfit, but as I looked to the west I felt like I could see past the waves rolling into our beaches and even the shore of Hawaii and beyond. 

  

My final prayer was for my mom,  letting her know I am better at staying awake in church and I am doing my best keep her amazing grankids awake as well.

  

Enjoy your week,   

 

Ray & Theresa Shay  

Info@TrustShay.com
 

  

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