You Can Take The Guidos and Guidettes Out of Jersey, But You Can't Take Jesus Out Of Anywhere...

Yes, that is the back of none other than Mike "The Situation" Sorrentino's head. Really, his haircut should come as not surprise. Look how often you see the cross hanging from the necks of the stars of MTV's Jersey Shore. The boys especially wear rosaries quite often (which I understand to be a no no for Catholics?) and Ronnie of course has a HUGE black tattoo of a cross on his back.

I'm going to be bringing up Jersey Shore and its cast in this week's sermon. Of course this means I'll be yapping on about the absurdity of "reality television" and the ridiculous ideals, values and behaviors that shows like Jersey Shore promotes and propose as how reality should be understood. I'm also just a wee bit off-put by the continuous presence of the cross of Christ in the show, and the continuous absence of Christ-likeness.

Or so one might think.

Whether I mention it in the sermon or not - I need to point out one aspect of Jersey Shore that I love (apart from the rest of it that I love as a guilty pleasure).

Every Sunday night it seems, the entire crew gather as a family at a big table and share a home-made meal together. Regardless of whatever spats have occurred or whatever resentment remains, they still come together and share a meal. And at that table you often see forgiveness, reconciliation and (dysfunctional though it may be) love. Remind you of another table? If not, then you haven't been paying attention at Communion - cause that's what's supposed to happen there. The Church, since the beginning has gathered around a meal, for the past millennia plus celebrated in a simple two-courses; bread and wine.

And really, should we look down on Mike, Ronnie, Snookie, Jenni, Pauly, Sammy, Vinny or Angelina? Is this group of sinners really that different from us - just another group of sinners that gather around a table and find forgiveness and love? (Yes, even Angelina...)

I'm just waiting for one of the Jersey Shore girls to bring home some strange middle-eastern lookin' dude to that dinner table - and watch him grab the garlic bread and tear off pieces, pass them around and say "take, eat, this is my body..."