For a guy like me with an interesting conversion story, it's hard not to see myself in the eyes of a wasteful kid, telling his father: "I am not worthy to be called your son." But there are times when I remember what it was like to waste money on things like the newest clothes, the best phone, a $30 pre-flop bet with 9♦10♦, or just wasting time and energy on needless things.

...and in spite of my conversion, I sometimes miss those spending sprees.

Perhaps that doesn't make me as saintly as some of the other friars here in Novitiate. Not that I need anyone else to tell me where I stand, but I sometimes feel like the odd friar out. There are smart guys here, holy guys, and guys who will one day go on and become Provincials of their provinces. And while I trust the plans of whatever God wishes for me, there are times I just want to ask: "What am I doing here?"

Dealing with college this week has brought out a lot of feelings of waste. As I talked with a Student Advisor at St. Xavier's University in Chicago, I realized how much grant money and time I threw away the first time at college. One is able to see such things in the passage of time, and all the staff at St. Xavier's were quite familiar with returning students regretting ill-used time. Yet as we talked about fulfilling requirements that most students my age have accomplished, I still felt guilty about my previous college experience.

In my provincial's weekly homily, he writes how he wishes we could see the 2nd part of that story - how the Prodigal Son works hard, provides for the family, and counts himself as equal to "the good son."

The problem with that ending is that the Son, or me (as I'm obviously reading into the story), gets to a place where they feel worthy. Will I ever be worthy of this vocation, regardless of how I live? Do I want to be at a place where I feel worthy, or will I just be self-righteous at that point?

For a competitive guy like me, the story of the Prodigal Son (or the Prodigal Father, depending on your interpretation of the parable) presents a challenge to be happy with my imperfections and my history. My background is vastly different from the other Novices here...does that make me any better or worse? Often these ideas of being "better than the others" is self-induced - a carry-over from the days of selling cars.

Perhaps the Epilogue to the Parable of the Prodigal Son is his ability to accept who he is, and know that his father loves him.

From the Catholic News Agency:

Los Angeles, Calif., Oct 15, 2009 / 03:54 am (CNA).- A South Carolina priest bested an NBA basketball star and two professional poker players, including former world champion Daniel Negreanu, to win $100,000 in a poker tournament and qualify for a competition with a $1 million grand prize.


Fr. Andrew Trapp, associate pastor of St. Michael’s Church in Garden City, played in the PokerStars.net Million Dollar Challenge held in Los Angeles, California. Among his opponents were retired NBA star John Salley, Team PokerStars.Net pro Vanessa Rousso and Negreanu, a four-time World of Series of Poker bracelet winner.

View the entire article here.

Perhaps there's still hope for an old poker dealer like me to raise money for ministries. And I thought religious life would keep me from ever getting to play in the World Series of Poker!

Car sales is the closest thing to the mob. Everytime you think you're out, they pull you back in. Everyone knows everyone else, you're always watching out to make sure no one's cheating you, there's always plenty of drama, and the money...oh the money.

One of the first things I learned in training so many years ago was that a car salesman never had to look for a job very long. If you're a good salesman, there's over 1 million dealerships in this country to choose from. Sales is a trade skill, and as such that skill is highly marketable and always in demand. A good salesman can improve company profits, create new business relationships, expand present areas of service, and build a loyal customer base ensuring years of continued profits.

In a way, I'm not surprised when I got a call by Bossman at the old dealership, asking me to come work for him again for a few more months. Apparently his last salesman left him high and dry, and the past few days he's had no one there to talk to customers or process transactions.

I stopped by the dealership yesterday to talk to them about a few things. "My postulancy is the most important thing," I told them, "but I can help out up until the end of July." There are a few dates I asked for time off in advance, just because I'd already made prior plans. He said that was no problem. "When can you start?" he asked me. "You're old office is ready and waiting!"

I told him I'd already made plans for Saturday, but that Monday morning I'd be there bright and early. Spring is an excellent time to sell cars. People are getting their taxes back, as the weather warms up people look for the the sportier vehicles, and especially for this car lot, as the price of gas keeps shooting up the demand for more fuel-economic vehicles goes up as well.

Overall, I feel I'm helping a friend. I did miss the sales business, and I've grown continuously agitated with the poker thing. I found it ironic how poker players, loaded with money, could find far more to complain about than homeless people at the soup kitchen.

What have I learned? The road to my vocation has many paths, and while there may be no right and wrong, some roads are easier and more exciting than others.

I truly truly truly apologize to my readers for not being present during the week. It's currently 1AM Saturday morning, and I've finally gotten time where I'm not dead tired or running out somewhere to write down an update of my crazy life.

(me pictured with another Capuchin Candidate. This pic is entitled: "Meet My New Catholic Friend")

After having fun in Chicago with the Capuchins, Monday was a day of getting back to work. My job loss two weeks ago was more like a demotion: I was still working at the same location but again as a dealer, not as a pitboss. I still had feelings of anger, revenge, and bitterness for some of the other people who worked there. Yet I knew that I was lucky to even have a job available, and even luckier to have a boss willing to give me another option while I continued to work until August 1st.

While I wanted to present a better image, a side that showed I was not angry nor upset, a poker dealer isn't hidden away. I will still deal with the same people I've dealt with for the past year. They knew me first as a dealer, they got to know me again as a pitboss, and they will see me again as a dealer. The questions, the inquiries, the rumors that must have already started before walking in the door...it all seemed a little unbearable.

I walked in the door of the poker room early, meeting one of the other pitbosses. He seemed surprised to see me; he was out of the loop on what happened and where I'd been in the last two weeks. I told him only that I was no longer a pitboss, I was here to be a dealer again, and that I was taking my time to further pursue my goal of becoming a Capuchin Postulant in the fall. Thankfully, he read between the lines and didn't ask me any further questions about it.

As people filtered in that Monday evening, I realized the best way to stay out of the spotlight was to be busy at work. I opened the first table and dealt nonstop for 3.5 hours (most dealers get a break each hour). I got the occasional "You're dealing again, Vito!" I responded in kind: "Yes, I am!" For those that lightly asked about my status as a dealer, I told them the same story as I'd told the other pitboss: I was taking more time to focus on my discernment for the Capuchins. Instantly everyone would ask: "What is a Capuchin?" and I told people about my calling while successfully diverting the topic of conversation away from my status as a dealer (an old trick I remembered from selling cars.)

Others wanted to know more. Still, I was light-hearted in my discussions. "Well it's a long story, and I can't talk without using my hands. So either I can deal cards or I can tell you this really long story. My guess is you wanna play some poker." This would get laughs, and people took the subtle hint that Vito didn't want to talk about it.

Of course, there was the nosy individual who came to my table as I was dealing and started asking me invasive questions: "How come you are dealing? Pitbosses can't deal. You're not a pitboss anymore? Why?"

I tried to keep answers short as I continued to deal cards, however I couldn't get this person to understand that I didn't want to talk. Finally, as they were begging me for information, I stopped mid-hand and looked up at him with the "look of death":

"This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. Do you catch my drift?"

In unison, everyone at the poker table turned up to look at the other person, awaiting a response. Realizing they looked like a total ass, they apologized and left the table.

From that point on, few have tried to ask about what happened. Most are content to leave me with my personal business, however I use the opportunity to spread the news about my calling, my faith, and ultimately my plans for becoming a Capuchin. Even today, as I dealt cards to people I've known for a year, no one dares ask me directly about what happened. They are content to see me again, and happy to have me at the table (unless they lose a lot of money).

The one thing that gets me through the impending workplace drama is understanding others. It's human nature to want to know, to figure out what happened. It's also human nature to understand when we're being intrusive into someone else's life. Rather than fighting against a rumor mill, I've embraced that mill and filled it with information I wish to be spread: Vito is a man of God and plans on becoming a religious brother.

Now if I could only work something out with these pesky bill collectors...but that's a post for another day. =)

So I've found another interesting, yet obvious way of helping pay down my debts: poker. Having so much knowledge of the game, strategy, rules, and player tendencies, I'm surprised I hadn't thought sooner of becoming a semi-professional poker player as a supplement to my income.

Before you start thinking: "What in the world are you doing? You wanna be a priest!" I do have several ground rules that I follow. As a pitboss, I see people throw away money each day I work because they lack the discipline or the self-control when playing cards. These "rules" suit my current situation, but if you are a poker player or just the occasional gambler, these rules might be of some use to you as well:

1. Know what you can spend. Tonight I went in, knowing I could lose $110 and still pay all my current bills as well as a few past bills that still reside on my credit report. I bought in once for 60, then for 50.

2. Set your winning point. The timeline on any poker player is bust if they don't know when to walk away as a winner. My goal was to either double up or call it quits when the $110 was done. After I doubled up, I decided that I would move my winning limit up to $340; the amount of the past-due bill I needed to pay.

3. Be patient. There's always the lure of "donking" chips away on hands like 9-4, J-7, or Q-8. All the poker books in the world cannot teach you to be patient and wait for your hands to come to you. If you spend too much time trying to chase a flush draw, you will end up broke. It took an hour and a half before I turned my last $30 into $412.

4. Walk away when you are done. That doesn't just include your winning limit; if you're tired or you have other things on your mind, do the smart thing and cash out. When I started to backslide from the $400, I left before I dropped under the $340 mark.

5. Give back. I make it a habit to tithe all of my winnings. Sometimes the collection plate gets more money than other weeks, but I make a conscious note to give at least 10% to my church. I don't do this because I'm trying to thank God for making sure my Aces didn't get cracked, I do this because they are poker winnings. It is extra money. Most people would gladly give to charity if they won the lottery, why not give if you only win $300?

6. Remember why you're playing. If you're sitting down to play poker with buddies and you're just there to have fun, you can probably throw out everything I just typed, with the exception of #5. I play because it fun, but more importantly it is something I am good at, and if I can pay off my debt faster by spending time at the No Limit cash tables, then I can use poker as a tool to reach a loftier goal.

Tonight was a good night at the poker tables, and with the extra money, I have money left in my bank account after all my bills are paid. I know the Food Pantry at my church is in need of more food, so I may spend another $60 at Aldi's to help them stock up on soup and canned vegetables. I don't know what St. Francis would think, but I do my best to follow the four major rules regarding gambling per the Catholic Church. Perhaps in the end, the experience, like all others, will help me serve others with gambling problems. Or maybe if they feel they can tell a priest their bad beat story, they can come to him about other things.

Today as I prepared for work at the Poker Room, I let my mind wonder free about thoughts of the Capuchins, what it will be like to be a Postulant, and even what my life will be like after ordination. I thought about something my boss always tells me: "I would feel more comfortable talking to someone like you as a priest than someone who went into seminary at the age of 14. You've lived life, Vito. You have something unique that you bring to the table that other priests may not."

My mind drifted from this conversation to my "gifts," and eventually to the idea of being in front of a parish administering Mass. One of my naughty little pipe-dreams is to take something from the Gospel and begin an Homily as if completely unplanned. I allow this thought to take over, imaging myself giving witness to a host of people. It doesn't have the true feeling of standing in front of a crowd of people, yet it gives me the change to speak what's on my mind. It's how my priest's sermons always sounded like. I take the time to imagine what I would say that could inspire or touch the lives of others.

It puts me in a better state of mind, being able to reflect on the Gospel in this way. But it also gives me a sense of purpose, knowing that the enjoyment I receive of contemplating the Word is part of what brought me this far in my journey.

Since these are always off the cuff, I'm not sure what kind of blog this will turn into. However I've thought about what it would be like to give my first Homily after being ordained, and what it would sound like. Perhaps it would be something like this:


About ten minutes before Mass started, as I was in the sacristy, it finally struck me that this would be the first time I stood up in front of a parish and actually delivered the Homily. I can remember being a boy sitting over there (pointing to where the alter servers were) and listening to my priest. He'd walk in front of the alter, he'd never stand behind the podium, and he liked to talk with his hands. He didn't read from a notecard or a prepared speech; he spoke to us...much like I'm speaking to you now.

And over the years, as my faith grew, I realized that being able to see him in that way, more as a person telling me about his life and his understanding of the day's Gospel reading, he was relating himself as a human being. He made the Gospel not as a lofty goal that we could never reach, but as the means by which we should live, and how we could incorporate it into our daily lives.

Today's reading from Matthew is a familiar one: the story of Jesus summoning his disciples. He tells them: "Come with me, and I will make you fishers of men."

"...fishers of men."

The part of the story that I always found fascinating, and something that stayed with me the entire time I considered this idea of becoming a Capuchin was how Peter and Andrew react.

"They immediately abandoned their nets."

Now you can look at almost any translation, and that adverb is still there: "Right away, At once, Straightaway they abandoned their nets and followed Him."

Right away. At once. Immediately.

The thought of that confuses me. Some 10 years ago, when I first heard that call to God, I didn't do anything immediately! When I first felt that pull towards the priesthood, I was scared. I was almost horrified! Here I was, content in my job, living the American Dream (air quotes); by my standards I was a success already. Why did I need to become a priest? Why did I have to give up all of this?

For me, it took years to truly understand what it meant to understand this calling. I had doubts, feelings of unworthiness, even the idea that I was trying to impress someone by becoming a priest. There was nothing I could do immediately, because I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to do.

And as I learned more and more about myself, I realized that I wasn't happy at that job. My life wasn't as fulfilling as I pretended it was. My gauge for success was this small scale of material items. And I would begin to wonder that maybe Peter and Andrew weren't too happy with where their lives were. Maybe the life of a fisherman was not who they were meant to be. Perhaps God had given them the desire, the wisdom, and the courage to do more with their lives...they needed simply to wait until they were called to do so. And immediately, they left their nets to follow Him.

Perhaps we're not so different from the Apostles. We all have in our hearts the desire to do something wonderful with our lives. We want to make people smile, we want to right that what is wrong...sometimes we just don't know how. Sometimes we just don't want to commit ourselves to doing too much. If there is a lesson to be learned, it is that we as Catholic Christians should make ourselves aware of that Calling that God has for each of us, and make ourselves available to do what is asked.

I'm not advocating that you should all give up your jobs and sell everything you own after you leave church. In fact some of you have already followed your call: being married, being a father, being an employer.

What I want you to understand is that we're all called to do more. Maybe not change the world, but to open our hearts to God and to those around us. I became a Capuchin because this is where God wants me. I'm not sure what I do next; God didn't give me timeline for the rest of my life. However these years later, I'm standing in front of all of you wonderful people, much like my parish priest stood in front of my parish, hoping that I was put here to affect the life of another as my parish priest touched mine.


eh, perhaps I'm not the greatest ad-lib speaker, but I like being able to let my mind wander and think.

Tonight I spent sleeping and fighting off regret.

The first week of being a pitboss was completely psychotic. I dealt with drunks, people who brought personal drama to the poker room, trying to fix paperwork that was out of sync...and the state inspector dropped by last weekend which made me even more nervous. When I wasn't working, I was trying to establish a new sleep pattern. I go to sleep around 4AM now, and wake up around noon.

Perhaps that's why I ended up having a seizure today.

When my body gets off schedule and my meds get messed up, I'm highly susceptible to a breakthrough seizure. On the way to work this morning, I could feel it coming on as I drove down the road. Whether by divine revelation or pure happenstance, I chose to take a side road to work instead of the freeway. The side road goes right by the car lot I used to work at. As a last-minute thought, I pulled into the dealership to relax on the couch, and get off the road. I remember shaking Elvis' hand, him asking "What's up?" and then waking up in the back of an ambulance.

No serious injury this time, thankfully. I do, however, have an added burden onto my discernment. My tally of debt was $5500ish. The ER visit and the ambulance ride will cost me close to $1000 in medical bills, bills that must be paid before August 1st.

I have this feeling of regret, as if I made the wrong decision in working at the poker room instead of staying at the dealership. This would not have happened had I stayed, my stress level is higher, and have to make more money to pay for my debt.

I could have died today. I could have ruined any chance of ever following a vocation. I could have lost my new job...so many things could have ruined my life today. It makes me wonder if I am on the right path.

I've had a song stuck in my head for the past few days, and it seems rather appropriate.

Eight months to go, Lord. Help me find the strength to keep going.


Please come now, I think I'm falling
I'm holding to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say,
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out "Heaven save me!"
But I'm down to one last breath

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me
So please come stay with me
'Cause I still believe there's something left for You and me

-Creed

This week I got a promotion.

When Bossman originally hired me a few months ago, the plan was for me to be the Sales Manager of the dealership. Now, it's hard to be a manager when there's no other sales guys but yourself. I did financing, F&I, clerk work, and I sold the cars.

Yesterday we hired our first sales guy. He's a quiet guy that knows very little about selling anything. However he has two things going for him that always makes a sales manager optimistic: he's driven to work hard, and he speaks Spanish as well as English.

Bossman and a few others joked about the competition that would arise between me and my new sales guy. We're still a small car lot, even though we've grown since I started, both Newguy and myself will be working the lot to get deals done. Oddly enough, I'm not feeling jealous or greedy. In fact, I'm quite adamant about giving him most of the up's so he can learn the sales process.

While I still consider myself a workaholic, my determination has little to do with money. If Newguy starts to sell a bunch of cars, I'm happy for him. He has a family that lives below the poverty line, and I have first-hand experience on how a job like this can drastically change one's tax status. In fact, I want him to do so well that I don't feel obligated to stay...should God call me to a more religious life.

The boss of the Poker Room is offering me a top spot as well. I've dealt cards for him so long, I've learned most of the operation. Instead of actually dealing cards, I spend more time enforcing the rules, chatting with the charities, and managing paperwork. I suppose the title of pitboss is an appropriate job title, and hopefully something I can share with others later in life.

As I spend 18 hours a day working to pay off debt, I feel more like I'm using my debt as an excuse to bury my personal time with activities. Perhaps if I keep working, I won't have to make a decision. Maybe if I keep working, I won't have time to sit and reflect on how my grandmother's death really impacted my life. If I stay busy, I keep my mind focused on work and not on how hard it truly is to understand where God is supposedly leading me.

So for now I will work my two jobs, come home tired at 2AM, get up for work at 7:30, and do what I can to pay off my past debts...or at least that's what I tell myself. I've had weeks where I've made 1500, yet I have no idea where all the money went. I've not played poker in over a month (my new position restricts me from playing) no have I spent any real money on material things. As I mentioned before, my "success" is reminiscent of years past, where I'd make my money then simply spend without any thought of savings. This is a personal discipline I've tried to hold myself towards.

The oddest thing of all is that while Michigan's had the highest unemployment rate in the country (source) , I've been bombarded with job offers. Even when I tell people that I may not be in the workforce after next fall, they still topple over each other, trying to give me a job in some managerial spot. What's most ironic: even when I mention my vocational calling, people still try and tempt me with more money to go work for them.

Until later....

When I walked into the poker room after work, I expected to be given a table, deal out cards, and make my money...the standard operating procedure. What actually happened was an under-cover surveillance to catch someone skimming money off of the poker table. Unfortunately, the suspect was someone I enjoyed working with.

After only dealing an hour at my table, I was given a break. Soon after, the owner of the poker room pulled me aside.

"I need you to do me a favor, Vito," he asked of me. "Are you up to playing some poker tonight?"

I sadly informed him that I had very little money, and I was working to make some extra money on the side, not to blow it all playing poker. (FYI: I have absolutely no problem playing poker, as long as I have the money and the time to play.)

He reached in his wallet, pulled out a $100 dollar bill and handed it to me. "Go get some chips. I need you to watch a dealer. I think he's stealing from the rake."

In most charitable gaming establishments, the dealers are volunteers who can be paid a minimal sum for their time. They are not screened, there is little oversight, and there are no cameras to record what is happening. Because of this, dealers are hired on their word.

I bought my chips and sat down at the table. The usual response I get is: "You're playing this time? You didn't have to deal?" I really wasn't playing, but watching the dealer, the chips, and what was happening.

It took 5 minutes to figure out the strategy of the dealer to pocket chips off the table:

The dealer flipped out the cards, and play started as usual. Eventually, a player would put a red chip in play, but only "call" the initial bet of $2. Rather than give change out of the pot, the dealer reached in the rake, gave five green chips to the player, then set the red chip just next to the rake tray. After the stack reached $25 (5 chips), he would deal out the cards as usual. After the the cards were dealt, he'd point to the person "under the gun," then lean back. To the casual viewer, it looked like he was stiff and just needed to stretch. In reality, the move allowed his hand to slide over the stack, palm it, then let his arm drop to his side, depositing the chips into a side pocket in his shorts.

When I first saw it, I couldn't even believe it...the move was flawless.

He stopped dealing before the poker room closed at midnight, giving him time to go to another table and play. Presumably, he took the money, put it on the table, and tried to make even more money. At the end of the night he cashed in all the chips, pocketing $200ish dollars that should have gone to the charity.

I was sick. I didn't know what to think. I'd known this guy ever since I started dealing, and he was a great guy. I played poker at his house. He's let me borrow money on occasion. To catch him doing something so wrong was a violation of that friendship I had for him.

I told my boss at the end of the night who had the same feelings. He didn't even want to deal with the situation, but he knew that the thief had to go right away, lest the players find out and spread word about how "Westgate's dealers steal" or other rumors that would hurt business.

This morning, as I spent my second to last day at the old dealership, I got a call:

"Hey Vito, there's been a...change...in schedule. Is there any way possible for you to come in sooner than Seven?"

I could tell they'd fired that dealer. Will he still come to the room and play? Will I never see him again? I'm still not sure how I feel about the whole incident. Either way, he'll leave ahead, since my boss will probably not press charges.

On a side note, I not only paid my boss back, but I made $96 for myself on top of my standard money for working. =)

In poker, there is a term called "raising pre-flop." It means that you are raising the stakes after only seeing your two hole cards. Five more cards have yet to be shown, but you add more money right away. There's several reasons for doing this:

• You have a strong starting hand (A-A, A-K, K-K, Q-Q, etc.)
• To get people with weak hands to fold
• A "feeler" bet to see how others react
• To make others think you have a strong hand

Conservative players become intimidated by a pre-flop raise if they have nothing. Loose players will call whatever raise you make; they know that anything can happen after the flop. The trick of the pre-flop raise is to scare the weak hands out of the pot, but not to scare everyone away. It's an intricate skill learned by reading other people, knowing your odds, and being confident when you make your play.

Last night, my other boss threw a party for all the poker dealers. There was food, prizes, and games at the event. It was held at the poker room, so we sat amongst the sea of Texas Hold'em tables and chairs.

After being knocked out of a sit and go, I sat at a table with the owner and a few other dealers. Someone asked me about the car business, and how sales were going. I told them that business had been slow, and that there are times when my conscience struggles with the job. I told them I wanted out as soon as possible. When asked why, I said nonchalantly: "Well, I'm still considering the priesthood, and it's hard for me to continue working in that kind of environment."

I didn't even realize I'd said it until I saw everyone's eyes grow huge. I envisioned scaring everyone away from the table. As an afterthought, I said: "I don't know if Joe (the previous owner) told you guys that, but it's something I've thought about for almost 8 months."

Without thinking, I had dropped a huge wager on the table. I just told one of my bosses, a handful of co-workers, and several passers-by about my vocation...without knowing how any of them would react.

To my surprise, there were more "callers" than I expected. My boss and others eagerly asked about the experience: what was I going through, have I made a decision where I wanted to go, how was the celibacy going? There were some that left the table, either uninterested or uncomfortable with the topic at hand, but for the most part everyone was positive and supporting of what I told them.

In the end, it wasn't me that had the biggest play on the table. In speaking about my vocation, I told them how I wasn't trying to be holier than anyone, just trying to help those in need as is my calling. As if he were reading my mind, my boss replies: "You know, I wish more priests had more....experience. I would much prefer someone who's lived life than a priest that's been in the seminary since high school."

I felt great after hearing his words. Perhaps there is a place for me in The Church. Perhaps I can offer something unique, or have a perspective that will give insight to others. Perhaps I just might be good at being a priest. Perhaps by raising the stakes, I've actually taken another huge step on this weird journey of mine. The irony of this event happening at a poker table was beyond measure.

It all felt so perfect until today when someone stole my cell phone. Now I just want to stab someone in the neck with a spoon.

/sigh

Since the end of April, after my ex turned my apartment into a money pit, I've been pulling double duty to make extra money. I still work as a car salesman, but on the weekends I found an entertaining, lucrative, and (oddly enough) charitable second job to help pay the bills...a weekend poker dealer.

On Fridays and Saturdays, I trade in the polo shirt for a deck of cards and deal cash games, tournaments, and the occasional sit-n-go at the local bowling alley. I know most of the guys that come in (and they attend quite frequently) and I honestly enjoy my time, even if I'm not doing any gambling or drinking.

Like most of my interests now, I get hesitant about being so engrossed in something. Is it right? Could I be doing something more useful with my time? Am I forgetting about what is important to me? Is this where God is leading me, or am I just spending a couple of nights out "with the guys" to keep me from sitting home alone with my thoughts?

Father Host is worried about the amount of hours I'm working because of my chronic condition.

Since that time, I've sat with it and prayed the best I could. The extra hours make me tired, and dealing poker is probably frowned upon by most seminaries, but perhaps I do have a reason for being there:

1. It's a way for me to meet and connect with new people - not just for games, but on a personal level. Like bartenders, card dealers are privy to the private lives of many people.


2. I am the "good guy" at the table. I don't drink, I don't curse, I don't make fun when someone chases the river, and I make sure the drinkers get a ride instead of driving home.
   
3. God isn't just in church on Sundays...God's there when things are good. God's there when we've done wrong. God's there when you've lost $500 from gambling, and perhaps you need someone to talk to or help, if you feel you might have a gambling problem.


4. Having a card dealer named "Vito" is just damn cool, and it brings people back week after week.

I don't know if I'm supposed to find someone or something while I'm dealing poker, I don't know if this job will only last until I pay off my back debts (per my vocation director), or maybe I have God's plan all messed up.

But for now, barring any flaming bush or booming voice from the sky, I'll keep dealing cards and raking in money for whatever charity sponsors the event. I'm sure there are far worse jobs that a budding priest-to-be could have....

Ready to join in the action, as seen on the Travel Channel? Maybe you're only looking to gamble a little bit, but don't want to spend the gas money driving 100 miles to the casino. Perhaps you're feeling bad about only putting $5 in the collection basket this week.

If you need a place to gamble without the guilt, you need only visit your nearest church or bowling alley. As a charity fundraiser, poker has become more popular than the colloquial bake sale, golf outing, or those really expensive candy bars that your kid brings home, eat, and make you pay for after finishing off the box.

The recent popularity is not without merit.

As an example of traditional fundraising, the ASPCA homepage has a great "how to" page about setting up a bake sale for your local animal shelter. Here are just a few of the topics covered:

• "You will need a lot help with organizing your bake sale, collecting donations, selling baked goods, collecting money, serving goods, setting up and cleaning up, and delivering donations to the shelters."



• "Ask each baker to write out the name of the dish they made and a complete list of ingredients. This is important because some people are very allergic to foods commonly found in baked goods, such as coconut, nuts and strawberries. "



• "It’s important to get the word out about your sale. Make posters asking people to donate baked goods, as well as posters that announce the day of the bake sale. Place posters in schools, community groups, local stores and any clubs you may belong to."



• "Divide baked goods by type, such as cookies, cakes, flavors, and serving size. You may need to set up several tables to give you space to separate cakes and other items."

Contrast that list against companies like Boston Charity Poker, where the game plan is simple: book the company for an event, and let them do the rest. Even if a charity outsources their fundraising, a church can still make $1000-$2000 in one night. There's no licenses to worry about, no extra donations required, no allergies to warn of. Charity poker is a "win-win combination," according to Hollywood Poker.

But what does the Big Guy upstairs have to say about all this? How am I, a Catholic seeking the proper path, to know if gambling for fundraising is in line with the teachings of our faith? There seems to be a grey area regarding gambling and fundraising.

This spring, Bishop Bouchard from Alberta, Canada spoke out strongly against using gambling funds to pay for Catholic schools. In a pastoral letter he states, "...it is not morally possible to actively seek funds that one knows are derived from legalized gambling as it is currently operated in Alberta. Ignoring those victimized by gambling or even worse profiting from their suffering is foreign to the gospel. Because Catholic institutions and organizations are closely associated with the Church's mission to witness, to evangelize and to instruct, I am directing that, within a maximum of three years, Catholic parishes, schools, and other organizations cease to actively pursue revenues that are derived from gambling." (source)

Luckily for Bishop Bouchard, Catholic schools in the Alberta province are partly subsidized through property taxes.

I attend St. Mary's Church; a poorer, inner-city parish. The church needs to pay operating costs, but the church roof and steeple are in dire need of repair. The bill to fix the roof is estimated at $1.5 million. The demographic of St. Mary's parishioners is middle to lower class, with a large Hispanic population that steers away from events outside of Mass. Raising funds is a serious task for this church.

The parishioners, along with the parish priest, have embraced charity poker as a way to breathe life back into a dying parish. While many of the attendees don't actually belong to the parish, the revenue generated makes Texas Hold 'Em a monthly fundraiser for churches such as this.

The question of charity gambling and church fundraising will continue to be a paradox to Catholics, and a source of ridicule for Evangelicals. Are we perpetuating a disease in this country by the use of poker, or are we simply doing what is required to raise money?

In search of a moral answer, I've become involved in fundraising for my church. Whether I'm a poker dealer or just wearing a funny hat, I feel I'm fulfilling some role in my community. In the end, I'm just trying to help out.