Church Babies and Philosophy....I Think

Last week I blogged about my day. I'm going to do that again. Luckily, church service was enjoyable this time. My mother and I decided that Saint Rose was so unbearable last time that we'll never be going again. This time, we went to a church called Holy Family Catholic Church up in South Ogden. Now there are many reasons that HFCC is better than SROLCC (Saint Rose Of Lima Catholic Church). One, HFCC doesn't ask you to turn off your cell phones immediately at the beginning of Mass. Two, you are not "invited" to use cry rooms at HFCC. Babies need to learn proper church manners, and the only way for them to learn is by being in church, not some back room. HFCC was full of babies! I saw babies all over the place. Some weren't really babies, but they were little enough for me to call them cute.....so they're babies in my eyes. Third, you just feel a general air of being welcome at HFCC. You enter the building and everybody seems happy to see you. My mother gave me many examples of how even she didn't like Saint Rose. She was with my sister when she was little. My sister, being new to church, asked multiple questions mid-Mass and my mother gladly answered them (quietly, she assured me.) Apparently on two occasions she was shushed by people around her. Then, my mother watched as a single mom with multiple children who was clearly overwhelmed by them all was told how loud she was being by the person next to her. Now, during church my mom goes with the flow for the sake of the Lord, but at any other time she would probably have shoved her foot where the sun don't shine on that piece of work. My mom has lived too long watch that crap happen, and she knows it. Then she told me a story that got me laughing.

When I was newly born and my sister was around five-ish, my Mom wanted us to get baptized. She went to Saint Rose first because she had just reentered church life after her pregnancy with me and still needed a church to call home. She called the church and a very unfriendly woman answered the phone. This is how it went:

Mom: "Could I speak with Father B.?"
Woman: "Oh, he's out right now."
Mom: "..."
Woman "..."
Mom: "...Oh, well could I leave a message?"
Woman: "No, you'll just have to try again until you get a hold of him."
Mom: (agitated) "Ah, I see."

After she told me this story she followed it with, "...I mean for goodness sake! You work for God and this is how you treat people!?" I almost spewed my mint shake all over the car with that one. I found it funny because of how I envisioned God at that moment: a high-class gentleman in a black and white vertical striped tuxedo with a wooly, white beard covering a bright red tie with a tie clip shaped like a cross. He's sitting at a desk with a large comfortable chair and is talking on the phone shaped like a dove. Behind him is an enormous bookcase with every copy of the Bible on it. A window next to the bookcase shows the entire universe in the distance. He is constantly being interrupted as the devil repeatedly tries to call him. God blocks his number: 666-6666.

"Peter I just don't know if I can afford that kind of disaster. Couldn't you do one of those, you know, floods?  Yeah, floods! Yes that's it! Just a simple flood? None of this tsunami garbage!" He says.

"Well, yes, you are God, anyways," Peter replies. "I'll have Mary send up the reports."

"Atta boy!" says God. "That's why I called you the Rock!" He hangs up and leans back in his chair. He pulls up an application on his computer labeled "Prayer Bin." He begins reading and replying to everyone of his messages. A flaming pop-up appears with "DEBAUCHERY!!" written in large letters. "Oh for the love of Me! He hacked my firewall!" He does a Satan Scan and and continues His work. He steps away from His computer and looks out the window. "Hmmm.....let's change it up a little." He traces the path of a comet with His finger and it speeds into a small planet which erupts into debris. "Ha!" says God while he changes His attention to scanning His books. He strokes His beard and considers His next super-wordly move. He pulls out a sheet of paper that is expanding rapidly as He unrolls it. "Hell, Hell, Hell, Purgatory, Hell, Heaven, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory....Oh, straight to Hell!" he says as he either checks or crosses the names of the dead. A careful observer would notice that tears well in His eyes as He sends His children to Lucifer.

That's how I imagined God when my mom said that. I can't help it; it makes me happy. It gives God a human characteristic that makes him easier to believe in. It's hard to have faith in something you can't see, hear, or feel. I want to believe he's there but with all the awful things that happen here sometimes, I can't help but think He isn't. That then leads to my considering why I waste my time with honesty, fairness, and kindness if there isn't any reason to. If I get no reward in the afterlife then why should I even try? My selfishness in this respect is probably a bad thing. I don't want to do anything I don't get rewarded for. When you're a teenager like me and suddenly you realize that the whole world is on your head, it's hard to simply accept that a man in the sky is watching over you. If you are even more like me, you will never be able to embrace not knowing.

This whole "Philosophy" thing is confusing.