Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Picking out that stunning Easter outfit with matching bonnet and shoes? You go. We're not going to tell you how to run your life.
On the other hand, if you feel slightly queasy at the thought of all that pageantry at the mega-church, please be aware that there are bored gods and goddesses just standing by to take your call. You can just go sit in a field and talk to them.
Every year on this day I'm reminded of a Sunday years ago when my daughter The Heir was about 7 years old. The Heir is a deep thinker and always has been.
We were at this posh Easter Sunday service in a Methodist cathedral. The pastor called all the children to come to the front for a "children's message." It was the usual canned stuff about the holiday not only being about colored eggs. (Yeah, that's pagan anyway.)
After the little session expired, my daughter The Heir tugged at the pastor's gown. He was in a hurry to continue with the fancy service, so he looked down at her with a slight frisson of impatience.
The Heir said: "Why do they call it Good Friday if Jesus suffered on that day?"
Well, tee heee heeee. This pastor, a Man of God, snickered at my daughter with a condescending sneer and said, "Go ask your Sunday School teacher." He said it into the microphone so that all 700 people in the congregation could hear him and laugh at The Heir's expense.
The Heir came to me all confused and said, "Mom, why did they laugh at me? It was a serious question."
So, to make a long story short, we quit the church and decided that from now on if we need to ask Jesus a question we'll do it ourselves.
FROM ANNE
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS
"Eyeball Vulture" copyright of Cy. Use with permission of this site only.
4 comments:
Yeah, they profess to believe in the man who said "suffer the little children to come unto me" or words thereof. Funny how these role playing psychopomps forget that.
Church was a part of my past life. I have many such stories like this to support my leaving the fold.
Well I think the minister was an ass and he didn't know the answer to the question. Shame on him.
And I'm sure it's totally a coincidence that pagans were celebrating a holiday called Eostara this time of year for generations before the xians came along and, big surprise, started celebrating a completely different holiday called Easter. Wait, no I'm not.
Well of course this guy sneered at your daughter, Anne! He sees exactly where she is in the pyramid of who's-worth-what-in-the-world: Under women, who are under little boys and poor black men, who are under poor white men, who are under white men, who are under rich white men, who are under the President and Elvis Presley, who are under the Saints, who are under Jesus, who is under the war-loving, war-mongering, hate-pushing Jehovah.
Wow. I'm surprised he even heard her, considering how far she is beneath him. What a guy!
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