"Pop pop, let's play Spiderman," said four year old Brady. He had been busy beneath the three windows of our rented condo for about half an hour.
"OK", I said, as I walked to the windows.
"These are my spider webs. Psssshhht." Each of the three blind cords had been tied into a Gordian knot.
"No, I'm just Spiderbrother, said Brady. The real Peter Parker did it when we were at the beach."
"Well, I said, if you see Peter Parker, tell him not to do it again."
It was late and my daughter had whisked Brady and his twin sister off to bed, so we didn't get to play Spiderman. As I lay on the floor after a hard day at the beach, I assumed the job of untying thin knotted cord since I had left my sword at home. I spent twenty minutes on each knot. Oh yeah, Peter Parker had done it right. The last single knot was so tight, a toothpick was needed to undo it.
For me, there is no better time for contemplation, than lying on my back with a simple task at hand. I recalled how someone once explained to me that absolution was like untying a knot and solving a problem.
I then thought about the most beautiful words spoken on earth, spoken by Jesus himself through the priest in the confessional, "I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."
"Amen."
