Monday, February 11, 2008

church

To maintain good standing in my family, I had to attend church yesterday. Now, I assume there are some faiths in the world that are tolerant, inclusive and rejoicing of all that is good in the world. The faith I was born into is none of the above. If I could change only one thing about my upbringing, it would be to take back my baptism by those horrible people.

Misogynistic, racist and ignorant are three words I would use to describe the three hours I had to endure yesterday. Yes, three hours. The service is long to begin with, but then they do it in two languages. My father's also a heathen and we spent the first of those hours in the back, giggling at things we found in our pockets, the weird outfits everywhere around us, the crazy divine liturgy (whatever that is--see, I really do know nothing) that was in the pew, and the priest's version of English, the comprehension of which required advanced training in cryptology.

After the first hour, it got really tedious really quickly.

After two hours, when the collection plate came around twice so that we could fund the church's "good works," the rage started to burn. "Good works" meant sending missionaries abroad, presumably to try to cure the locals of their heathen ways and show them the path of righteousness. Because that's worked so well for so many people.

And now I'll forget about the rage until the next traditional wedding, funeral or memorial at which I'll have to make an appearance. Maybe I can dig up my baptismal certificate as a memory of the joy in the interim.

RainyBow

4 comments:

SNIDERMAN said...

I keep having this recurring dream of standing up in the middle of a sermon and saying... "uh, scuse me... but I don't think that's what it says".

Hasn't happened yet... but maybe, some day

Whiner Girl said...

What religion is it? If you don't mind sharing.

Kim said...

3 hours?! Blah!

We have some extra religious people in our neighborhood. One day, one of the kids was playing with my son (at the time they were both 5, now they're both 6), and my son started talking about Santa because it was almost Christmas. The other kid starts yelling 'THERE IS NO SANTA DON'T YOU BELIEVE IN JESUS?!'. I couldn't believe it. That same little kid, not long after, got in my face and demanded to know why we didn't go to church! What the hell?

Emory said...

And this coming on the heels of your previous post!

Naughty Rainybow, and naughty Pappabow too.