Practicing to Be Like Jesus

Last week was a busy week. It seems like the Spring always does this to me. We have lots of extra curricular commitments with the boys (speech, baseball, martial arts, cub scouts, soccer) and they all feel a bit too much to manage when March comes around.

As I said in an earlier post, to add to the busy week I also got behind on my volunteer work. If I wanted, I could definitely stay busy at the kids' school every day of the week. There is that much work to do. But I have learned that I need to give myself a couple days off in order to deal with commitments around the house. At the beginning of the '09 year, I decided that I would volunteer on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays and allow myself Tuesday and Friday off. However, last Friday I had to go in and finish up some important work that was needed by the first of the month. I was there most of the day and I was not particularly happy about it.

The work I do for the first of the month is very tedious. It takes a lot of time and zero brain power. I had sequestered myself in a small storage closet when Mary (the office manager) came in saying the principal needed to see me in the church. I looked at the time. It was 2pm. I had only 30 minutes to finish my work and depending on what was needed at the church, I wasnt sure I was going to get it done.

I really had no idea why Mrs. McCotter was calling for me. Im pretty sure this was the first time I have ever been summoned to church by anyone other than my mom. But as I was making my way over there, it occurred to me that the kids would probably be doing the Stations of the Cross. During Lent the school participates in the Stations of the Cross which is basically a cliff note version of the events leading up to the death of Jesus at Calvary. It gave me a cool feeling thinking about it. I used to do the same thing with my classes when I was a student at St. Francis. It made me feel both sentimental and lucky that my own kids were experiencing it too.

When I walked into the quiet church, it was immediately clear why I was asked to come. The fifth grade was in charge of the Stations of the Cross and Seamus was acting out the role of Jesus. Let me say that again: my son, Seamus, was acting out the role of Jesus. He was robed in a white tunic and was standing alone in front of the assembled school. On his face was the look of absolute decorum and respect. As I sat in a pew behind our principal she asked "Did you know about this?" and my reply was "No." Honestly, if I had known I would have called my sisters and Matt and my mom to make sure they were there to see it. It was already the 9th station by the time I entered the church. How did I not know about this? How did it slip my attention that Seamus was acting the role of Jesus in the Stations of the Cross?

It took me a few minutes for the pieces to come together. Seamus got in trouble the day before for running up the aisle in church. I didnt understand it at the time but now I realize they were practicing for the stations of the cross. He also told me about two weeks ago that he was "practicing to be like Jesus." I thought that was a great idea. I think I might have even said "That's great Seamus. Im proud of you." But sheesh, I didnt realize that he was actually playing the role of Jesus during his class's rendition of the Stations of the Cross. That's huge! You can go through 8 years in Catholic school and never play the roll of Jesus. There's only one of him and all the boys are in the running for that part. Shea will most likely never get that privilege and opportunity again. I had almost missed it.

I sat quietly while stations 9 thru 13 were completed. I was constantly on the verge of crying - overwhelmed. My peaked emotional state could have been chalked up to the nostalgia of experiencing an event I havent witnessed in more than 25 years. But that was only part of it. It was Seamus. My son looked so sweet and small up there in front of the church. He was really playing the part well too. You could tell he was taking it seriously with a very sad, resigned look on his face. My heart was surged with love and pride. It confounds me how Seamus can give me grief on a daily basis, and at the same time he is one of the only people in the world who can make me feel staggering parental joy.

Once the service was over I caught the eye of Shea's teacher, Mrs Skraby, and mouthed "thank you." I really am sooooo grateful. I never in a million years thought I would experience my child in this manner. For a moment on Friday I was the luckiest mama in the whole world.