Wife's mother's sister's husband. Also, wife's father's best boyhood pal.

Catholic.

When it was over, I leaned to my wife and said:

An hour of failing the laugh test.

The priest had some fun redefining purgatory (yeah, I know, they dropped it, so what, he was talking about it), and talking about things he read.

From old books. Special old books. Mystical old books. No names of course. But boy, he was leaning on the ancient authorities. He painted a mishmosh of magicality for a while, but he wasn't very good at it.

I wanted the old fire and brimstone guy back. At least he had a hard enough edge to figure out what the hell he was saying and give me something to argue with, rather than be vaguely annoyed by the new-ager.