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Rectory Parlor Games
A winter’s harvest of imaginative diversions
By Diogenes
At last the cold days are behind us—for at least those of us who live north of the equator. But during those long winter nights, I encourage my clerical friends to keep themselves occupied by devising imaginative new parlor games. Here are just a couple of samples. Readers are encouraged to submit their own entries.
Game 1: Confessions I have never heard
Entry #1:
Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last Confession was during Easter time, but I’ve recently become aware of serious sins I failed to confess in previous confessions.
I accuse myself of the following previously unconfessed sins. When I got married, on one occasion, I pressured the priest to have a Bette Midler tune as a Communion hymn. I also encouraged my relatives to take intrusive pictures during the Mass.
I accuse myself of immodest dress. My wedding dress was so low cut that the elderly priest, wide-eyed and openmouthed, lost his false teeth as he awaited my arrival at the altar. I accuse myself of irreverence. When we baptized our children, I laughed out loud and made cute comments when my baby’s head got wet during the ceremony. I even made the rest of my family laugh as the priest anointed the crown of my baby’s head.
I accuse myself of unjustly accusing the priest of “inexperience with children” when he refused to allow the children to gather around the altar during the school Masses. I accuse myself of scandal and false worship: When my children were adolescents, I encouraged them to participate in “teen Masses” where “creative liturgies” were celebrated with rock music.
I’m sure I’ve committed many other sins, Father, but I can’t remember them at the moment. Can you give me some help?
Entry #2:
Bless me, Father, for my ancestors have sinned. It has been two episodes of 60 Minutes since my last confession.
My parents were unwelcoming of government mandated integration in their working class neighborhood. At least, I’m not absolutely sure they were unwelcoming, but they had a statue of the Sacred Heart in the parlor, and that was typical of the kind of people that put property values before justice in those days. For these and all their other sins of bigotry I ask pardon and penance.
My uncle Louie was part of the 3rd Armored Division in the sweep to liberate Dachau and Buchenwald. He operated a diesel-powered Sherman tank with no concern for carbon monoxide and noise pollution. Also he failed to condemn the Holocaust publicly. For these and all his other sins of emission I ask pardon and penance.
My great aunt Matilda went without tea during Advent and Lent and gave the money she saved to a home for orphaned and abandoned Native American children run by the Sisters of the Good Shepherd. She called them “Indians.” Also, the nuns forced the children to listen to readings from the Christian scriptures and did not instruct them in Lakota or Passamaquoddy dialects or teach them to value their indigenous spiritualities. For these and all her other sins of keeping the First Commandment, I ask pardon and penance.
My second cousin was married to a man severely disabled in a mine explosion. He had a drinking problem. Theirs was not a life-giving relationship. Nevertheless, my family members urged patience and forbearance and helped out with small gifts of food and money and saw that the kids stayed in Catholic schools and that the medical insurance and mortgage were paid. They failed to empower her as an individual with her own talents and needs and career opportunities. For these and all their other sins of co-dependence, I ask pardon and penance.
Oh, and Uncle Louie didn’t recycle his discarded K-rations.
Morley Safer, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all my sins because of thy vast sponsorship. I firmly resolve, with a Guggenheim grant, to amend my life, do Paris, and void the dear reputations of them.
The “spirit of Vatican II” dictionary
Prophet: One who exposes the misbehavior of conservatives.
Scandalmonger: One who exposes the misbehavior of liberals.
Rosary: A beaded chain of unknown origin used to bind the hands of deceased clergymen in the coffin.
Ministry: The inalienable right of the laity to assume the duties of the clergy in anticipation of the day when the Church is Protestant.
Secular priest: A priest who owns his own golf clubs
Religious priest: A priest bound by solemn vows of obedience, chastity and poverty, in virtue of which his must use the clubs in the trunk of the Mercedes borrowed from his lay friends
Ultramontanist: A priest who wears clerical garb even when not en route to his arraignment.
Extraordinary minister: An ordinary minister.
Liturgy planning: The process whereby hymns, readings and other options are selected so as to ensure that each Mass has at least one liturgical abuse.
Building community: The sensitive and methodical process of eliminating Benediction, pious practices, and traditional liturgies.