Easter Week

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Sometimes Easter kinda’ sneaks up on me.

“When is Easter?” I asked Kathy.

“I don’t know.”

And that’s kind of sad to me because all of early life was centered around church and prayer and stations of the cross.

We took the boys to church through the years, of course, and we remain committed to faith, but the physical act of going into the building for a weekly mass is sporadic at best.

Which is amazing because for decades I was an absolute mess if I didn’t make it to church.

Where did it all fall apart?

It was a movie that did me in - the Catholic Church’s lies and deceit was exposed in the movie with Michael Keaton and the Boston Globe.

I was pretty ill when we finished up that movie and it stuck with me…

…and not in a good way.

I can remember saying:

“They will never get another dime from me.”

And I truly miss it. I enjoyed the community aspect of attending Mass each week.

I knew where all my buddies sat with their family. I would jump up and serve Mass as a teenager.

Yet there weren’t just a few instances of abuse, and when the abuse was exposed, it wasn’t stopped. In fact, the abusers were coddled.

The exact opposite way of handling the manner in a Christ-like way.

Yet, there is a gnawing sensation that runs down my spine…

…”You missed church!”

Will I be heading off to hell because I broke the rules of a church that set a record for breaking the rules?

We shall see…

…something to ponder during Easter week.

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