A Chair for Jesus

“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.

Fr. Tony Palazzolo recently had a triple celebration
– his 87^th birthday, 25^th anniversary as a priest, and
retirement from the diocesan Office of Family Life.
He is still active as a missionary for Food for the Poor.

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…