JC and the Boyz

I've been dragging my husband to mass of late, in an effort to get our names in the rollbooks of our friendly neighborhood Catholic Church so we don't hit a wall when it gets to be baby-baptizin' time (I'm already a registered parishioner, but I didn't actually step foot into the place until a few months back). Step 2 is tossing money into said church's coffers (in the form of a check from our joint account in the specially-mailed church envelopes, which also bear my name). Step 3 is for advanced players only: stick around until the priests get to the vestibule and then do some glad-handing (I only followed through on that one on Christmas Eve).

Today, the gospel told the story of the Wedding Feast of Caana, wherein Jesus turns water into wine at his mother's urging. For once, the sermon was actually about the gospel (as opposed to suggesting that we ignore science in favor of religion, one of the more memorable sermons of recent weeks. Why can't we credit both, Father? Sheesh.). The priest made a big point of letting us know that first of all, Jesus was OK with people having a good time, hence his water-into-wine trick. Because wine is fun (can't argue with that)! Then, he coyly suggested that the reason there was a wine shortage was because the Apostles drank too much (oh, the laughter!), but he quickly assured us that the Apostles were, indeed, invited to the celebration.

Afterward, as Booby and I sat down to breakfast at our favorite ex-pat Irish caff, we discussed the oddness of the priest's declarations. I mentioned that I'd never heard anyone so specifically point out that all the Apostles were invited to this wedding, and really, now, who invites a woman, her son, and his twelve buddies?

"Well, honey," Booby reasoned, "Clearly, the Apostles were Jesus's entourage. You don't get Vincent Chase to come to your party without inviting Turtle and Johnny Drama."