Okay, so first of all, I should apologize for my long absence on the blog, and reassure everyone (I’m sure you were worried) that I haven’t died, or gotten a real job, or anything else that would permanently hinder me from writing. The Doctor and I have simply been on vacation. We took an Alaskan cruise with my extended family, and found that it was a very pleasant way to have a family reunion. I was thinking that I might post my regular columns from the internet stations on the ship… until I learned that it cost .50 a minute, or something like that, to use them. That’s a bit steep on a graduate stipend, so I lived without internet for awhile. But we’ve just returned home, so I should be resuming posting at my usual rate. I know you’re all relieved.

Just now I’m rather weary from a long day of air travel, so I thought I might just post a little anecdote in the few minutes before bed. As you might imagine, we were somewhat concerned about the Mass situation during the trip, given that we would be trapped out in the middle of the ocean for much of the time. We were very fortunate, however… my grandmother chose a cruise line (Celebrity) that has priests on each cruise. (I’m sure she didn’t do this deliberately, but it worked out nicely for us.) They say Mass every day on a conference table in the movie theater, which actually doesn’t feel entirely incongruous for a Novus Mass. Anyway, it was a relief to be able to fill our Mass obligation while at sea (and also to know that we’d have some recourse if we were somehow fatally injured during the trip… not that a cruise ship is a particularly dangerous place.)

The priest seemed like a pleasant, laid-back sort of guy, though he made no bones about the fact that he liked these gigs mainly as a way of going on vacation for free. He made the Masses as bare-bones as possible, giving short homilies, reading the shortest scriptures, and picking the shortest “eucharistic prayers.” I guess he figured that everyone would want to get the whole thing over with so they could get back to playing shuffleboard. The oddest part about the whole thing (besides the fact that the Doctor got seasick during one of the Masses, when we were cruising through a bit of a rough patch) was that some of the passengers had their formal dinner times immediately after Mass, so they would dress for dinner before coming. Others had a later dinner time, so, being typical Novus Catholics, they would come to Mass in their cut-off jeans, tank tops, or whatever they happened to be wearing around the ship. So the congregation was a combination of people in immaculate tuxes and evening gowns, and people in shorts and tee-shirts. Kind of bizarre.

Anyway, a week ago the Gospel reading for the day was about the “can’t take it with you” story, in which the man saves all his goods in barns and warehouses in hopes of enjoying a cushy retirement, only to be told when it comes to the point that he is going to die right away, without enjoying the fruits of his labors. I think the priest must have been a bit nervous about discussing this passage in a room largely filled with retirees in the middle of a comfortable vacation; anyway he was very apologetic about it. “It’s really not a vacation Gospel,” he said sheepishly, “but I guess we ought to think about these things occasionally.”

These opening remarks set the tone for the whole of his (brief) homily. He talked a bit about the importance of setting priorities and the way in which thinking about death could sometimes help to put things in perspective. But, again getting nervous about discussing death with elderly people, he quickly backed off of this point, advising that we shouldn’t worry about it too much. We should just try to be aware that the things of this world wouldn’t last forever and that Christ would eventually be coming again in glory, “though we can all pray that this doesn’t happen for a long, long time.”

Err… not looking forward to it, Father?

It just goes to show what silly things people can say when the first thing in their mind is to avoid causing offence to anyone.