TRYING TO ANSWER THE QUESTION, “WHAT DOES A PRIEST DO?” When I was in high school I went down to the guidance counselor’s office to take a career aptitude test. This was in the Stone Age, several minutes before computers went crazy and took over the world. My neighb
or had a computer and we used to play on but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what to do with one. He said, “Well, maybe your Mom could store her recipes on it.” When I told her that in hope that we too might get a computer she laughed and said, “What would I want to do that for?”
But I digress.
So instead of clicking answers on a computer, I had to answer questions in a booklet. Based on the score received, (“If you answered yes to question one you get ten points, if no, five points”, etc . . . ) you were to take a straight metal bar about the diameter of a coat hanger and stick it through an assigned hole in a shoebox sized container filled with index cards and lift. Like a fortuneteller, the card that came up would predict the job that you were forever to stear your life toward, as this was the career path for you. So I stuck in the bar, lifted my card and read.
Cruise line director.
Yes, cruise line director. As in Julie McCoy on “Love Boat”. I was mortified (and slightly intrigued.) Then again, I am relatively certain that “Roman Catholic Priest” was not on the list of options.
I thought of this last Sunday as I busied myself around the parish. One of the anxieties I had as a teen was that I would be doing the same thing every day. There is very little to worry about that in the priesthood. At times the activities on any given day can swing wildly, taking you from one group of people to another who are engaged in disparate activities involving emotional states all over the scale. The kind of varying activities that might take the aptitude of a – er – uhm – (mumble, mumble mumble) cruise line director. Yes. Well, moving along.
Take this past weekend for example, in addition to the usual day to day obligations and appointments (there was fortunately but oddly no weddings or funerals) there was a sick call in a home, confessions, mass, and then attending the Booster’s Final Four party. (C. S. Lewis once said that “Duty is none the less for being pleasure.) The next morning between masses there was the welcoming of n
ew parishioner’s reception, running from that to the Blue and Gold banquet to bless the track for the Pinewood Derby, leaving that to welcome friends to the baptism of their boys. A quite enjoyable weekend. They are not all that nice, some are busier, some less, and there was mundane stuff going on under all that. But there is a lesson here. And the lesson is this: If you are a practicing Catholic and you take a career aptitude test and it suggests that you should be a cruise line director, you may actually be called to be Catholic priest.
or had a computer and we used to play on but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what to do with one. He said, “Well, maybe your Mom could store her recipes on it.” When I told her that in hope that we too might get a computer she laughed and said, “What would I want to do that for?”But I digress.
So instead of clicking answers on a computer, I had to answer questions in a booklet. Based on the score received, (“If you answered yes to question one you get ten points, if no, five points”, etc . . . ) you were to take a straight metal bar about the diameter of a coat hanger and stick it through an assigned hole in a shoebox sized container filled with index cards and lift. Like a fortuneteller, the card that came up would predict the job that you were forever to stear your life toward, as this was the career path for you. So I stuck in the bar, lifted my card and read.
Cruise line director.
Yes, cruise line director. As in Julie McCoy on “Love Boat”. I was mortified (and slightly intrigued.) Then again, I am relatively certain that “Roman Catholic Priest” was not on the list of options.
I thought of this last Sunday as I busied myself around the parish. One of the anxieties I had as a teen was that I would be doing the same thing every day. There is very little to worry about that in the priesthood. At times the activities on any given day can swing wildly, taking you from one group of people to another who are engaged in disparate activities involving emotional states all over the scale. The kind of varying activities that might take the aptitude of a – er – uhm – (mumble, mumble mumble) cruise line director. Yes. Well, moving along.
Take this past weekend for example, in addition to the usual day to day obligations and appointments (there was fortunately but oddly no weddings or funerals) there was a sick call in a home, confessions, mass, and then attending the Booster’s Final Four party. (C. S. Lewis once said that “Duty is none the less for being pleasure.) The next morning between masses there was the welcoming of n
ew parishioner’s reception, running from that to the Blue and Gold banquet to bless the track for the Pinewood Derby, leaving that to welcome friends to the baptism of their boys. A quite enjoyable weekend. They are not all that nice, some are busier, some less, and there was mundane stuff going on under all that. But there is a lesson here. And the lesson is this: If you are a practicing Catholic and you take a career aptitude test and it suggests that you should be a cruise line director, you may actually be called to be Catholic priest.I’m just saying.
10 comments:
When I took a career test in high school, it suggested, in the top three, that I should be an actress, a singer, or...a rabbi.
Wow, I got Love Boat flashbacks. I don't know whether to thank you or curse you, father. :-D
My print out said FBI agent. Honestly. I figured I'd go the whole hog and try the CIA; I even had their massive "junior CIA agent" application, and then saw that they don't allow employees to keep journals. This is understandable from their perspective, but I wasn't about to censor my thoughts for anyone.
I became a journalist. :-)
Anika
-you were to take a straight metal bar about the diameter of a coat hanger and stick it through an assigned hole in a shoebox sized container filled with index cards and lift.-
I started at the Univ. of Arizona in Fall 1991. One English requirement was to learn the CARD CATALOG. Yes, we had to learn how to operate the card catalog to find our sources in the library.
This is the part where everyone under 30 scratches their head and says, "card catalog?".
I think computers took over the very next year. By 1993 at the latest.
-you were to take a straight metal bar about the diameter of a coat hanger and stick it through an assigned hole in a shoebox sized container filled with index cards and lift.-
I started at the Univ. of Arizona in Fall 1991. One English requirement was to learn the CARD CATALOG. Yes, we had to learn how to operate the card catalog to find our sources in the library.
This is the part where everyone under 30 scratches their head and says, "card catalog?".
I think computers took over the very next year. By 1993 at the latest.
I always knew what any test would suggest: Investor (in sackcloth and ashes.. and, now, also in Depends).
You people are nuts. Lovable ones.
A Cruise Director, a Rabbi, an FBI Agent, a Librarian, and an Investor walked into a bar.
The Barkeep says, "What, is this a joke?
And we say, "No...the career tests were..."
(FYI ~ "Comedienne" was never on my list of possible careers.)
Thank God I was to be a plumber. Would have really mucked things up if I was called to the prieshood.
Father dare I be so bold as to suggest that "Whats wrong with the world" can be traced directly to aptitude testing that told high schoolers they should plan for a lifetime career in cruise directing?
One wonders if Disco instructor was an option there as well.
LOL!
"Rabbi Adoro".. Well, it had a nice ring to it for a moment, lol.
Fr. V, perhaps it's time for you to begin making the book-to-be, "The Monday Diaries" a reality, yes?
Simple Sinner, yes, I think Disco Instructor was an option--surely that is what Womynpriests mistook for the invitation.
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