Memories of Holy Week. . .

[anna09]

. . .epic boredom and torture!

My parents are byzantine catholic and I remember having to be dragged to church wednesday, thursday, friday, saturday AND sunday as a kid. The masses were twice as long and friday included everyone having to line up and crawl on your knees up to the altar to kiss the cloth that looks like a dead Jesus. After you did this incredibly stupid and rather unsanitary ritual you had to kiss the crucifix and two icons. Even as a kid, I remember feeling incredibly silly and embarassed to have to do that and felt bad watching all of the elderly people having to ditch their walkers so they can crawl up to the Jesus cloth. Saturday included a procession around the church with everyone standing outside the front door of the church for an additional 20 minutes of pointless prayer and worship. I remember hiding behind my dad as this was going on since all the non-catholics who drove by stared and probably thought we were all locked out or something. Then Easter sunday finally arrives (yet, another mass) and your only reward for all the time, embarassment, and boredom is a basket full of candy.

[tattuchu]

What the cock?

[anna09]

What the cock?

Yeah, I know it's weird.

Once I was a teenager and had a job, I was able to get out of it. I'd have my boss schedule me for every evening that week just so I wouldn't have to go to church.

[Millefleur]

Christ, that is a bit.. full on

[klr]

Holy Thursday: Boring!

Good Friday: Mega boring, with fish! Some crap Biblical epic was usually on TV in the afternoon, once the Stations were over.

Holy Saturday: Stupefyingly boring, but at least there was no Angelus (or on Good Friday evening either). However, confession was mandatory.

Easter Sunday: Still boring, but with lots of chocolates!

Easter Monday: Slowly return to normality, and finish off the chocolates!

[Thinking Aloud]

I don't think it was holy week, but still this kind of thing happened too often for my liking ... hrrrrrrrrrk ... (There's me at the back with the white hair.)

rrrrgggg.jpg

[tattuchu]

. . .epic boredom and torture!

My parents are byzantine catholic and I remember having to be dragged to church wednesday, thursday, friday, saturday AND sunday as a kid. The masses were twice as long and friday included everyone having to line up and crawl on your knees up to the altar to kiss the cloth that looks like a dead Jesus. After you did this incredibly stupid and rather unsanitary ritual you had to kiss the crucifix and two icons. Even as a kid, I remember feeling incredibly silly and embarassed to have to do that and felt bad watching all of the elderly people having to ditch their walkers so they can crawl up to the Jesus cloth. Saturday included a procession around the church with everyone standing outside the front door of the church for an additional 20 minutes of pointless prayer and worship. I remember hiding behind my dad as this was going on since all the non-catholics who drove by stared and probably thought we were all locked out or something. Then Easter sunday finally arrives (yet, another mass) and your only reward for all the time, embarassment, and boredom is a basket full of candy.

Wait, what if someone doesn't have knees? What about the amputees? What do they do? Do they scuttle up on their stumps or something?

[anna09]

I don't think it was holy week, but still this kind of thing happened too often for my liking ... hrrrrrrrrrk ... (There's me at the back with the white hair.)

rrrrgggg.jpg

Oh, I remember doing that.

"Here, memorize these prayers. You don't really need to know what any of them mean, just recite them and take the Jesus cracker."

[Geoff]

What the cock?

Yeah, I know it's weird.

Weird doesn't begin to describe it! Bat-shit crazy, maybe (even by "normal" religious standards)?

[klr]

"... and another thing"

Easter Sunday - and Sundays generally, plus Holy Days of Obligation - usually meant dressing up in one's best clothes. At least we usually got to take them off after mass*, and spend the rest of the day in civvies.

*This was memorably depicted in The Simpsons, so I guess it's not just a Catholic thing.

[Thinking Aloud]

What the cock?

Yeah, I know it's weird.

Weird doesn't begin to describe it! Bat-shit crazy, maybe (even by "normal" religious standards)?

Yes, but when you're in it, these things are normal. At least, everyone around you says they are. You can wonder all you like, but the grown ups were right about learning to swim and not stepping in front of moving cars, so they must be right about this too, however crazy it sounds.

[Geoff]

What the cock?

Yeah, I know it's weird.

Weird doesn't begin to describe it! Bat-shit crazy, maybe (even by "normal" religious standards)?

Yes, but when you're in it, these things are normal. At least, everyone around you says they are. You can wonder all you like, but the grown ups were right about learning to swim and not stepping in front of moving cars, so they must be right about this too, however crazy it sounds.

Well yeah, I guess, but I was involved in various nutjob religions (tautology alert) as a kid, and I wasn't very old before I started to realise just how bat-shit crazy they all are. I think I dumped "Christian Science" aged about 4 or 5, when Grandma couldn't give me a sensible answer as to why our prayers weren't working.

I learned at quite a young age about Coleridge's idea of "willing suspension of disbelief" from my mum, but could always differentiate between fiction and reality.

[Pappa]

I am absurdly grateful to the universe for landing me with a life where I didn't have to do any of that insane shit. The aliens will think we're round the bend when they come and see us do this crap.

[hadespussercats]

The church my sister and I went to had a swimming tank under the boards at the front of the church. I think I got baptized on Palm Sunday.

I was actually hoping for some pretty ritual. Instead, deacons lugged a garden hose down the aisle to fill up the tank, while making jokes about slicing up carrots and onions for the soup.

We wore white robes over bathing suits. The robes had washers sewn into the hems so they wouldn't billow too much when you walked down the ladder. The pastor made this cross shape with his hands, which you were supposed to grip as he dunked you backwards. Which of course meant you got water right up your nose.

After, there was the lineup of new members of the church-- drowned-looking, with see-through wet white robes revealing festive swimsuits beneath, choking on aspirated water, with snot running down our faces.

Welcome to Christianity, kids! Aren't you glad our church waits until you're old enough to remember this touching moment?