I fear every year I choose to keep my kids in the Chicago Public School system instead of enrolling them at a local Catholic school, I am that much closer to neighborhood excommunication.
But let's be honest. You've read my blog. Do you really think I'm capable of spending thousands of dollars a year when I've got free access to the best public schools in the city (bus transportation notwithstanding)? I'm a couponer. I look for online discount codes before advancing to the checkout screen. I shop at Goodwill for chrissakes.
So where does that leave me? I still consider myself a Catholic. My kids have been baptized. What's next?
The answer is complex. I grew up calling the alternative "CCD." My kids call it "God school." Based on the correspondence from the church (because Lord knows we don't attend frequently enough to hear this stuff at mass), I believe it's now called "Religious Education Program" or REP. Last year, we were registered parishioners of St. Barnabas, who scheduled their
I'll say it again in case you missed it:
8:15 AM. On a Sunday.
The only day of the week we were able to sleep in was now taken over by waking up and sending the kids off to color pictures of Mary. I know about Jesus' 40 days in the desert. I know about Moses' 40 years in the desert. But I'm tired, I don't like sand, and I think a 7:30 am wake-up call on a Sunday is just plain mean.
Somewhere over coffee or cocktails, I learned about St. Cajetan's
Remember the fireman at Joe's house who used to be a pilot who now builds tricked-out wheelchairs for relay races? Well his wife is going to be Danny's
I was so over the moon over our new church's
|Why wouldn't there be a fire truck at a parish picnic? I'm fairly certain Jesus was part Irish...and His descendants probably work as firemen in Englewood.|
|Joey wanted nothing to do with the fire truck. We may have to schedule a "re-programming."|
I feel a little guilty about leaving a perfectly good parish because I need more sleep. I wonder if this is some sort of test to measure my faith. I have tried to rationalize our move by pointing out to people that my parents were married at St. Cajetan's and this is sort of a return home. Nobody is buying it.
Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me (Revelations 3:20).
Yes, I did pay some attention during