Jesus, Etc.

On Wednesday I went to Mass for the first time in probably 10 years. I'm talking going to church for a reason other than a wedding, baptism or funeral. This past week I have been very contemplative: What should I do with my life? Where should I live? Do I or don't I like Shaun White despite his mess of hair? I needed answers! I thought maybe since God hasn't been listening to me in a while, that I needed to make a surprise visit. I am sure he was very surprised to see me there. At least the church didn't burn down when I walked in.

I can't believe how different it is to go to Mass in the city versus the suburbs. People just walk in off the street wearing their work out clothes. One woman still had her IPod on...I could hear it. People came and left as they chose. And the piece de resistance...a man was eating a granola bar next to me. I seriously had a moment of "oooh, you're going to get in trouble" since I have years of schooling with nuns under my belt. I remember I got in trouble once for letting my butt rest on the pew when I was kneeling. I can only imagine what the nuns at my school would have done!

It is amazing how automatic the prayers came back to me. I couldn't recite them out of church, but I knew them by heart when I was in there. I felt like a drone for a good hour, but as it turns out, it was exactly what I needed. After 20 minutes in, I realized I hadn't really thought about anything. My mind went blank, which is something it rarely does. I had a brief break from obsessing about my life. A friend of mine has been going to a Buddhist temple near Grand Central, and even though the ceremonies are held in Japanese, she says it just feels nice to hear people reciting the same thing, to feel like you are a part of something bigger than yourself. It is relaxing. I guess that is why they say religion is the opiate for the masses. I'll take it though, since I can't find a good Opium den anywhere above Canal street.

I guess the point of my story is not about finding God or going to church everyday, but finding a place where you can zone out for a while; especially if you are unemployed and feeling a bit claustrophobic in your apartment. Going to a place of worship can really be a great stress relief...unless...old people are involved. So concludes the rest of my "going to church" story:

I was feeling all peaceful and Zen-like until it was time to receive our ashes. People ran up to the front in a mad dash, resulting in a line around the corner. I was fine for a good 5 minutes until I heard the most annoying sound in the world. I turned around to see a toothless old man flapping his gums and licking his lips. WHY DO OLD PEOPLE DO THIS? I don't get it. Is he trying to find any remnants of teeth? I was hoping that Mr. One Foot In The Grave would eventually cut it out, but he didn't. The line wasn't moving and I was getting more annoyed by the second until I realized....Hey, I live next door to this Church. I can run home, grab a water and come back. I thought WWJD? and I definitely think Jesus would have bounced. So that is what I did. I returned to Church just as the line died down, got my ashes on, and got to walk around the rest of the night with a big black mark on my head.

Song of the Day: Running on Empty, Jackson Browne, "Everyone I know, everywhere I go, people need some reason to believe."