God Has a Twisted Sense of Humor

God has a twisted sense of humor. Christmas Eve Mass last night proved it for me beyond a doubt.

I wasn't looking forward to going to Mass last night with my mother. Not because I was going with my mother, but I was just feeling really "blah" about having to go to Church. Usually, getting there is the hardest part. Once I'm there, I get the whole Christmas spirit thing going and I'm fine. Not this time.

This time, on my walk to the Church, I started talking to God about how I need to work on being less snarky, and could use a bit of help. I got to Church fifteen minutes early, and the first thing I noticed when I entered the Church was that there was a huge strand of cobweb that looked like a giant rope of dust above the statue of Jesus. It was so big that He looked like He was planning to hang himself with it. I was still feeling "blah" and devoid of Christmas spirit by the time Mass started. So, I started talking to God about how, for some reason, I just wasn't feeling my usual Christmas Mass "exceeding great joy". Well, be careful what you pray for...

The priest celebrating the Mass turns out to be "Father Visitor from Viet Nam". The problem with "Father Visitor" wasn't his accent, which was relatively easy to understand. No, the problem with "Father Visitor" was his singing. It was, in a word, awful. Probably the worst singing I have ever heard in my life. Worse than anything on William Hung's "Hung for the Holidays" CD. Yes, it was that bad. Worse, "Father Visitor" apparently loved to sing, because not only did he sing the hymns, he sang/chanted every part of the Mass that could possibly be sung. He was so tone deaf and off-key that the only way I knew he'd finally reached the end of a prayer was by the well-tuned "A-mens" inserted at various points by the men's choir. It was so awful, that of course, I found it hilariously funny.

So, here I am, standing in the pew next to my mother, with my eyes devoutly gazing up towards Heaven in prayer. Well, at least that's what anyone who happened to look at me would think. Actually, I was staring very hard at the stars on the Church ceiling, comparing "Father Visitor" to William Hung on the pulpit, thinking "I am going straight to hell for this", and trying desperately not to snort during the Our Father. The final straw came during the Eucharistic Prayer, when Father Visitor said what sounded like "He took the bread in his severed hand". It took me a few seconds to realize that he said sacred, and not severed. I'm definitely watching too much CSI these days.

The end result was that I left Church ready to bust a gut laughing. I also learned that God definitely has a twisted sense of humor, and that there is a difference between being snarky and being able to see the humor in a situation and get a good laugh out of it. I guess I'm not going to hell after all.