Fundraiser

After losing an armwrestling match to the pastor, I had to attend the major diocesan fundraising event of the year. It really was the "Who's Who" of the Catholic world -- politicians of the highest rank and honor, every bishop for miles, former professors, fellow colleagues, former supervisors and even bosses from both of my places of employment.

Most people I recognized were across the room and impossible to get near enough to talk to, but I did get to spend some time talking with one of my employers who I helped with a problem over the summer. I got to meet his wife, who called me his "lifeline" and she thanked me for all of my ministry to him. It was a gratifying moment since too often in ministry, you're there in the crisis, but you don't know what happens in the end. I often wonder what happens to those who pass through my life briefly while in crisis. It was a nice, if rare, moment to know how things have progressed and that he is doing so much better.

The dinner was okay, though I thought I heard my steak moo when I cut into it at first (rare is an understatement). The speeches concerned the economic downturn and what we can do as individuals to help; it was an important topic for a troubled time to a mostly privileged audience.

The only major irritant was a conversation I got sucked into with someone who asked every inappropriate question of me: Are you married? Why not? Do you have kids? Don't you think you should start to think about that? Where exactly do you live? What qualifications do you have to have for work like yours? Do you hope to become a priest?

My plan, after that ridiculousness, is to start weightlifting. That way, next year, when the time comes to allocate tickets for this event, I will beat the pastor at the obligatory armwrestling match.