23 December 2010

Like a Fish Out of Water

When I'm staying at my parents' house in Jersey during time off from school, I often go to morning mass at church down the road in Wallington, Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.  It is a Polish parish, through and through.  Masses are offered in both Polish and English, Monday through Friday morning.  Each morning there follows roughly the same pattern: Polish mass at 7:00, confessions at 7:30, English mass at 8:00.  

There is always a line for confession.  Perhaps it is just one or two people, but there are always people (both young and old, I should note) anxiously awaiting the celebrant from the 7:00 am mass to make his way back to the confessional. 

Despite the fact that this happens every single day, there seems to always be some confusion about where the line for the sacrament begins.  To the left, to the right, in the last pew in the Church; one never knows.  Whispered conversation always sets things right for all involved.  Except, of course, if you are me and do not speak Polish.  At that point, things get even more confusing.  Blond hair: check.  Polish nose: check.  Speaks Polish: not so much.

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