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Thank You For Reminding Me Why I Became a Protestant

Let me start off by stating that I grew up Catholic. My parents grew up Catholic and I’m pretty sure my parents’ parents grew up Catholic. I think it’s sufficient to say that since I grew up Catholic, I didn’t know anything about religion or the rules of the Catholic Church... or the Bible. If you thought that was just a stereotype of Catholicism, it’s not. I went to Sunday school, I had my Confirmation, but I can honestly say I knew nothing about Catholicism, except they kept asking me for money, their leaders kept getting caught touching little boys, and that I could do pretty much whatever I wanted as long as I went to confession and said a few Hail Marys and Our Fathers (Then I was under the assumption that I was completely absolved of all my sins). Add to that I was 17 and trying to find my own identity, so I left... On second thought, why did I leave? I had a pretty good deal working there!


This is all being said because a few Fridays ago, I was overtly reminded why I became a Protestant. By the way, Protestantism isn’t a religion. Technically it’s every religion that ISN’T Catholicism. Being a Protestant just means that you chose a different religion that Catholicism, hence the word ‘protest’ in Protestant. It means protesting the Catholic churches teaching, thank you Martin Luther… just a little nugget of random information for ya. It really had nothing to do with money, theology, education or molestation; actually it was the constant shame and guilt that was thrust (no pun intended) down on top of you from the leaders of the church. I honestly think that while someone is studying to become a priest of the Catholic Church there are specific courses in seminary that teach an up-and-coming priest how to be demeaning, belittling, degrading, humiliating and disgracing toward everyone that isn’t them.


The Story:


A few Fridays ago I was a second camera-man for a wedding. Shameless plug warning: If you want amazing photographs for any occasion (Wedding, Engagement, Anniversary, Pregnancy, New Baby, Family Photo Shoot, etc. [we'll travel, Jesse Medina I'm looking at you!]) contact Raw Canvas Photography [link]. The wedding was a traditional Catholic wedding which coincidentally enough was being held in a traditional Catholic church. I was told before the service that I couldn’t wear my hat in the Church, which reluctantly (mostly because of my hair, and only because of the couple that was getting married) I obliged. After the ceremony was over I exited the church to the foyer, promptly grabbed my hat and placed it back to its proper place atop my head. I was taking pictures of the receiving line and the guests exiting the church, once all the guests were outside the bride and groom asked if we could get some shots of them signing their marriage license. We followed them back into the sanctuary where we were greeted by the priest who performed the ceremony; well I should say everyone else was greeted but me. The priest had very specific words for me:


Priest: Only women, Jews and Bishops are allowed to wear a hat inside the church, do you fit into any of these categories?


About half way through this sentence I realized I was wearing my hat and quickly removed it and placed it on the nearest pew. The whole time I had every expletive blowing up in my head, because I knew I had just disrespected THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. History tells us that people have been killed for lesser transgressions against The Catholic Church. I was sweating bullets, plus I couldn’t tell if he (the priest) was trying to be funny or not. So I held back the comment I really wanted to say, “Actually I’m a Transsexual Hasidic Bishop, technically I should be wearing 3 hats!”


Me: I’m sorry. No sir, I don’t.


AS SOON AS THOSE WORDS LEFT MY MOUTH, I knew I was in for it. Being a seasoned Catholic veteran I had just forgot to say the ‘magic word’.


Priest: No, father.


Me: (tail between my legs) father.


I was waiting for him to pull out a yard stick from his robes and start hacking away at my knuckles for such insubordination. How many Hail Marys’ and Our Fathers was I in for, I was ready for him to ask God to strike me down right then and there… Luckily if I was struck by lightning I was surrounded by holy water, so hopefully someone would act quickly and put out the flames. However nothing more was said, but nothing more needed to be said. The priest had made his point and I was cowering below him, just as the Catholic Church wants. If that’s not an innuendo, I don’t know what is.


As crazy as it sounds this small 4 line conversation made me so thankful that I am never obligated to step foot into a Catholic church again. The meaning behind the words was unmistakable for me. I know that priests are to be respected and somewhat revered, but the fact remained that Catholics are Christians and I doubt this is what Christ would’ve said to me. There was no mercy or grace given in these words, and it made me feel shameful and guilty for what I had done. What HAD I done? I accidentally forgot that I was wearing a hat where I wasn’t supposed to, based on a churches rules that I may not have even known to begin with. It’s not like they were posting their rules like speed limit signs all over the foyer and the sanctuary. How would I have known? Thanks for the love Catholicism, I really feel it. I don’t like to make excuses, but I really wasn’t thinking about it, and this priest had to not only point out my mistake but parade me around like a fool.


Maybe I can buy an indulgence, or wrangle up thousands of my friends to go and kill off anyone who doesn’t believe what the Catholic Church teaches, or go to law school to become a defense attorney to fight all the molestation law suits against the Catholic Church, maybe that will help me make up for my mistake… but I’m not one to point out others mistakes.


I think I am going to make some pins and pass them out that say “I <3 Protestants” and make a shirt with Jesus standing in a boat with a very unruly sea around him and under the picture say “I rock the boat.” Let’s not forget that we are all going to live under one roof someday… $100,000 question: What would you have done?

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What Does It Mean If Bugs Ignore You?

Am I invisible?! Now I know how those kids who like Magic The Gathering felt in High School. I literally had a bug (A BIG BUG, like the size of a Cessna) fly into my face! I was walking out of the mall and I had just started going up the walk way when *BAM* it happened:


I saw it, it was like a ninja jumping from a pagoda with his sword drawn ready to disembowel me (to have some continuity with my previous simile, it would have been a ninja the size of a small plane) flying straight for my face! Let me tell you something, there are a barrage of thoughts that go through your mind when something like this happens to person. They are very similar to the 5 Stages of Grief:

1. Denial: there isn't a cadillac sized bug about to run into my face!

2. Anger: screw you bug! You ain't flying into my face!

3. Bargaining: I'll give you this shirt I just bought if you don't fly into my face.

4. Depression: I can't believe this bug is going to my into my face. Why me of all people?! Can life get any worse, I submit that it cannot!

5. Acceptance: all right, if this bug is going to hit me in the face I'm gonna take it like a man.


Ok, so those were EXACTLY the 5 stages of grief. I would be tempted to call up Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and ask if she could change her theory to "The 5 Stages of Grief & attacks from bugs the size of a Cessna" has a certain ring to it, no?


I would like to say that I went through all 5 stages quickly and effortlessly, but to no avail. The first 4 weren't a problem, and with my adrenaline pumping the world seemed to slow down and give me enough time to process each stage. When I got to stage 5 I hit "the wall". I knew I had to bust through and get to the other side to cone out with minimal physical and psychological damage.


However that didn't happen. I buckled... folded like an 18th century Chinese laundry service. I couldn't close, I thought to myself, this must be what Lebron felt like in the NBA Finals. I pulled a Buckner, but the bug didn't bounce through my legs... It hit me square in the face! AND, instead of sucking it up, taking it like a man and walking it off, I went into "fight or flight mode". What happened next I would like to chalk up to my even-keeled and balanced attitude because I chose neither fully fight or flight.


I went into evasive maneuvering!


Dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge (thanks Patches O'Houlihan, who says you don't learn from Hollywood senseless comedy movies?!) So like I was saying: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge with a little scream/squeal/battle-cry and spinning pirouette. All this to say and it did nothing to prevent this bug from hitting me in the face. But it did probably give the elderly couple behind me something to talk about over dinner the next few nights.
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The Hockey Gods

This whole hockey season was a wash for me. I live in Phoenix and I root for the Blackhawks. Both teams are not in the Stanley Cup Finals. No surprise for the Coyotes, and after this last season it was wishful thinking for the Hawks. So going into the Finals I was actually leaning toward Vancouver to win (since they never have in their 40 some odd years of their franchise). However I was torn because Boston hasn't had their names on the Cup since Bobby Orr played for them (if you don't know Hockey, educate yourself and Google Bobby Orr)... Nevertheless it's been a while.


HOWEVER, that mindset as changed after game 3. What is wrong with Vancouver?! After Burrows bit (yes, I said bit) Burgeron in game 1, and wasn't suspended, I had a slight change in heart. Not because he wasn't penalized, but because WHO BITES?! You have a problem on the ice, you drop the gloves and let your fists do the talking, not your teeth! Then in game 3 the late hit that Rome put on Horton was inexcusable! I hope the NHL suspends & fines him BIG! Rome easily could've paralyzed Horton, it was a blindsided late hit and Hortons head bounced off the ice. They had to cart Horton off the ice on a stretcher; at the 1st intermission they gave an update and said Horton had full movement of his extremities. Vancouver may be the #1 ranked team of the 2010-11 season but they're selfish immature punks. I'm glad the Bruins spanked them (8-1) in game 3! FYI THAT'S A BASEBALL SCORE, not a hockey score. 8 goals is practically unheard of. The Bruins scored their last 3 goal on 3 consecutive shots (that's amazing)!


I am an avid hockey fan and have my allegiances and favorites, but sorry Vancouver you just dropped to the bottom on my list. All I have to say is that the goal differential over the past 2 games is 12-1 Boston, and for the series it’s 14-5. GO BRUINS!


In the immortal words of Wayne Campbell (Wayne's World, 1992)"GAME ON!"