My Lack of Faith

This evening the local choir in which I drink sang at the ordination ceremony of a new priest. Young chap from one of the many parishes in this rather large diocese that almost stretches down to the sea in Liguria. Interestingly he is Italian. Even more interesting (or predictable) is that now there are no more young Italian nuns (damn! damn!). All the new nuns are from China or India or Africa. Apparently all young Italian girls want to be on Italy's Got No Talent or the Z-Factor or whatever.
Being from the paramilitary wing of the Anglican Church I wonder whether my participation at an ordination is rather heretical. I stare blankly at the staggering amounts of pink and grey marble and gold filigree work and statues of the bleeding Jesus and the Madonna with her tacky crown of electric candles and wonder at the utter lack of spirituality that for me is the singular hallmark of Catholic places of worship. And then from the choir gallery I see all the new priest's young friends from his village beaming with pride, young children playing in the aisles, couples cuddling and people talking on their mobiles and think maybe this is the way a living church should be. Shortly afterwards Bruno says from the back of the gallery, "hey Ron, we've just opened a bottle of grappa that Giorgio gave me, you must have a glass."