When I was ordained my cousin handed me a cookbook and said, "You are now a public figure. The only place where you will not have people telling what to do is in the bathroom and in the kitchen. Learn to cook." She was wrong. There are people in the kitchen with ready ideas on how to cook whatever it is you are cooking.
So it is true, being a priest makes you a public figure and as such you must make certain accommodations to the people with whom you come in contact. Sacrifices must be made. It's the nature of the style of life. For example, there are two types of people in the world: huggers and non-huggers. I'm a non-hugger. Huggers LOVE non-huggers. It is like my dog. He will find the one person in the group that does not care for dogs and try to prove to him that he is lovable. Such is a hugger.
So there you go. Over the years you grow accustomed but if I can avoid anything past the manly (with either sex) quick hug and two slaps on the back, I do.
This past weekend I went with our youth to the Franciscan University of Steubenville's Youth Conference; 2000 very excited Catholic youth with all of the enthusiasm and desire to express their faith that comes with that.
Mostly for the adults I think, they have emergency coffee stations in the morning. Bleary eyed adults lumber out of the dorms like bears awaking from 6 months of hibernation (except in this case it is due to a distinct LACK of sleep) to make their way to the emergency coffee station to fill up on caffeine in order to make it through the rest of the day.
But the coffee comes in Styrofoam cups, a thing I distinctly dislike. Coffee is too important. It is meant to be enjoyed and that includes the container from which it is drunk. (Is "drunk" correct?) Would you keep your diamond necklace in a shoe box? No. If the pope came to visit would you drive him around in a beat up late model pick up truck? (Well, now that I think of it, this pope might like that.) Just so, coffee should be drunk from a mug.
So I saw this sign written in typical teenage bubble letters.