Saturday vigil

Yesterday I woke up early for Saturday, at about 9:00 am.  I didn't feel like facing the day right away, so I walked to Howdy Doody and picked up a High Gravity lager.  They're 8.1% alcohol, so they have a little kick to them.  I watched South Park all morning and drank my lager, and by 12:30 I was sleepy so I laid me down to have a little nap.  This seems to be becoming a habit for me on Saturdays, getting half drunk in the morning and napping in the afternoon.

I woke up at 4:53 and immediately thought of vigil, which starts at 5:00.  I sat up, bleary eyed and groggy from the buzz I'd just slept through, and my first impulse was to just blow it off.  I would have done it too, if I hadn't picked up my phone and saw a text message waiting for me.  It was from a number I didn't know, and it said:

"Don't forget to go to church."

It had been sent at 3:28 while I was snoozing deeply.  I sighed and cursed inwardly, wondering who it was who had guilt tripped me into going to church.  So, I got up and pulled my hair back, pulled on some shoes, put on my cross, deodorized myself, gargled some mouthwash to get rid of the stale beer breath, grabbed my book and a few cough drops, and headed out the door.

Once I got to church I was glad I went, as I always am when I decide to go to church after struggling with it.  It's the enemy, of course, trying to keep me away from church.  When I got there I venerated the icons, took my place beside Dax, and started singing.

Afterward I read from the psalter while Fr. Justin heard confessions.  Lately I've been the last confession Fr. Justin hears, as was the case last night, and by the time it was my turn it was 9:00.  Afterward, we spent more time just talking than we did on my actual confession.  I enjoy having Fr. Justin all to myself after everyone has left.  He always gives good advice, and he has a way of reassuring me when I think things are a lot worse than they really are.  It was 10:00 by the time I actually started home.

As I was leaving I remembered something that Ryan, a co-worker of mine, said to me once.  He said that since he was Methodist, he didn't have to confess to a priest... he only had to confess to God.  However, where is the opportunity for advice and wisdom from a spiritual father if there is no one to hear your confession?  Any Orthodox Christian will tell you that confession isn't the most enjoyable thing in the world.  It's embarrassing having to relate to someone, in all honesty, your weakest moments and most shameful deeds - but when they say that confession is good for the soul, it really is true.  And not just a private confession to God... but confession to a spiritual father.
 
I felt good as I walked home.

(By the way, Dax is the one who sent me the church reminder text.)