This past weekend, we attended my niece's First Communion. Everything went well - the weather was beautiful, the kids all looked adorable and the food at the party was great. Vegetarian choices for every course and since the food was served family-style, no one noticed or commented on what I was or was not eating. I did not have to ask for anything special and could just pass the platters along. Best of all, lots of homemade cookies. I love cookies.
The actual First Communion mass left something to be desired. Now I have heard a lot of bad sermons, but this one was in a category by itself. First, the priest started with a story about 1500 sheep going over a cliff. I think it had something to do with Jesus being the good shepherd, but that was never made clear. The priest really focused on the dead sheep for a long time. Then he moved on to a story about a couple whose child had died (great topic for First Communion mass!) and how he had counseled them through their grief. It was all about an egg and a potato.
You see, an egg starts out fragile and delicate. When faced with boiling water, it gets hard and cracks under the heat. It eventually becomes grey and flavorless. A potato, on the other hand, starts out hard as a rock, but when thrown into the fire it gets soft and pliable and delicious. We are suppose to be potatoes, not eggs.
He went on like this forever, and even circled back to this clever metaphor at the close of mass. Did the kids understand it? Of course not! The metaphor falls apart when you really look at it. So are we suppose to be hard all our lives? Is there something wrong with being more sensitive? Potatoes eventually fall apart if you heat them enough - are we suppose to be mashed potatoes? And hey, I happen to like hard boiled eggs. Food metaphor fail.
When the priest finished, I leaned over to Matt and said, "All I got from that was hungry." Matt nodded and answered, "I hope they aren't serving eggs or potatoes at lunch."
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