Rocky and I just got back from vacation and it was wonderful. We took my mother with us as usual and we all needed the break from DC and Northern Virginia. For Mass we went to a little church about 16 miles from our vacation cottage. It was like stepping back into 1980. The music was Eagles Wings and other stuff I haven't heard since elementary school. The people were very sweet to tourists. The cantor reminded me of a high school football coach but instead of making us run laps for practice he produced a lovely voice.
The only real fly in the ointment was the homily. The priest was a friendly, kind man who obviously cares about his people but he tried to justify the pope's latest airplane interview. Fr. assured us that Gandhi, and Billy Graham were saints. They weren't with us (I guess he meant Catholics) but they did the Lord's work. I sat there and thought, "Father, Gandhi let his wife die because he didn't want to use British medicine and he later slept in the same bed as his nieces to test his chastity."
After Mass Rocky asked, "What did you think of Father's homily?"
"I didn't like it. "
He laughed and drove off along the tiny country roads to find dinner.
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