“Seriously?” asked Helen with an arched eyebrow. “You are
really going to make Jesus sit on a folding chair?”
I hate it when Helen has to point out the obvious.
The battle was over an easy chair; the premise was set by a
Frank Sinatra-loving, 87-year-old Sicilian-American priest. And it was obvious
I had lost by a first-round knockout.
A few days earlier, we had finally replaced the living room sofa
and easy chair Helen brought with her when we married. The chair was still in
really good shape, but the pets had “prematurely aged” the sofa. Because they
were a set, I assumed we’d get rid of both pieces. Of course, I got smacked
right in the assumed; Helen wanted the chair moved to our bedroom.
Helen was right about the easy chair’s place
in our bedroom. Lexie likes to keep it warm when no one else – human or divine – is using it. |
My obsessive-compulsive, orderly, male sensibilities immediately
short-circuited. I hate clutter. Clutter is anything not pushed against a wall
and used at all times. There are a few exemptions for obvious necessities, such
as the big-screen television, home theater system, and my collection of remote controls.
“There’s no room in the bedroom,” I protested. “We don’t
need any more extra stuff.”
“Extra stuff?” Helen countered. “We have a bed, a dresser
and two nightstands. I’d like a place to sit to get dressed so I don’t wake you
when I have to leave early.”
“So,” I mumbled, “keep a folding chair in your closet.”
You already know what happened next. But where do Jesus and
the priest fit in?
A few nights earlier, Helen and I had attended a marriage
workshop led by Fr. Tony Palazzolo, an experienced and gifted marriage and
family counselor. When Helen and I were preparing to get married, we were
determined to bypass the usual marriage prep classes for something more
extensive. We were referred to Fr. Tony.
Fr. Tony meets couples in his home; I immediately knew he
was the right guy. Frank Sinatra book on the coffee table, memorabilia from
Sicily on the wall, stories from his Italian family and his travels. But
more important was his deep understanding of human behavior and relationship
dynamics, and his ways of uncovering personality traits that both nurture and
threaten marriages. Helen and I quickly became big-time Fr. Tony fans.
When we heard Fr. Tony was doing a workshop at our parish of
St. Joseph’s, it was a no-brainer. With his stories and personal examples – Fr.
Tony had a marriage annulled – he makes marriage check-ups both fun and
fruitful. His “Five Languages of Love” are especially valuable. And, as a reminder
that a sacramental marriage includes Jesus, he suggested that couples begin
each morning sitting on the side of the bed for five minutes, holding hands,
saying a prayer and discussing the day ahead – all while envisioning Jesus in
the room with them. Sitting in a chair.
No, I was not going to ask Jesus to sit on a folding chair.
Don’t tell Helen, but my resistance to the chair was simple
male posturing. When it comes right down to it, there are very few things worth
drawing a line in the sand. That goes for both of us. As Fr. Tony reminded us,
the goal of marriage is to help each other get into heaven. A chair shouldn’t
even be an afterthought, especially one reserved for Jesus.
But as for who holds those remote controls…