If you have a blog, please let us know. If you don’t, you should. Otherwise, pour a cup of coffee, or a glass of fine wine and join in whenever you can. We will look forward to it.

Your thoughts about the “offering” sparked yet another memory for me. Our church in those days listed the the monetary “offerings” of each family by name in the church bulletin every Sunday. The listing began with the $2.00 offerings, then $5.00, then $10.00 and so on, up to $50.00 and above. The rich ones. More shame for my brother and me. Most of our friends went to the same church, and though we lived in an upper-middle class home, we were on the $2.00 list. People in attendance poured over those bulletins during Mass, looking I suppose for their very own righteous names. I hung my head low and wondered again about the “Book of Sins.”

Your grandmother had a profound and positive influence on you. To think that she and your grandfather put 13 grandchildren through Catholic school, tells me that they knew children need foundations. This, I do believe is necessary. My parents seldom went to church but forced my brother and me to go. That’s okay, because we came to need the belief in an infinite and invisible parent. We looked upward because our parents were MIA, so to speak. The “pipeline” continues….

Where I went to elementary school (a regular public school) there was a Catholic private school about four blocks away. We would talk about what went on there and create stories and myths about it. The school was called “Holy Rosary” and I don’t know where we got our ideas from, but we’d say things like: “I heard that at Holy Rosary, the nuns are so strict, that if you are sick and throw up, they make you eat it!”

Of course I don’t believe that now, but isn’t it interesting how the concept of fear/humiliation/castigation that we children “sensed” or somehow “picked up” was translated into the tales we told about that mysterious place?

I have to admit that when my kids tell me how “mean” their teachers are I don’t have a lot of sympathy for them, they have no concept of what mean really is. The one positive thing I can say is that everyone was always on their best behavior and we never had chaos in the classroom. One mean nun with a yardstick can keep an awful lot of kids under control.

Who needs “the middle-man?” It’s all the goofy crap that mankind made up in order to deal with the eternal questions that has made such a mockery of what God is supposed to represent.

I find that all these denominations are about power and influence. Sometimes it’s monetary, sometimes it’s not. Maybe all these sects are necessary because they provide the powers that be with a reason to exist. If there are not differences that appeal to a certain “market”, there’s no reason for anyone to attend. Or chip in when the plate is passed.

I don’t claim to have any answers to the eternal questions. I wouldn’t call myself “atheist”… more probably “agnostic”, because I just don’t know. But what I do know is that if there is a God, you won’t need an organization to reach him. All you need is your own brain. Of course, there is no money to be made in that.

All the other trappings of organized religion are just things that some men made up a long time ago, in order to control people and amass power in whatever form… money, land, status, influence, etc.

I know that all seems rather cynical, but that’s the way I’m wired. It puts me in mind of a quote I read once, but have been unable to track down again to double-check the author. But it said, “Religion is the only thing that keeps the very poor from killing the very rich.”

OK, that and the National Guard.

So use your automatic pipeline with pride.
Anyone that judges you for that will have their own judgment to deal with soon enough.

I have my core beliefs now within the context of the Bible, though heaven knows there are many interpretations of that. The one truism for me is FAITH, above all else. Sometimes I equate dogmatic religions to politics, and once in awhile to Big Business. Still…I have gone back to my roots in the Catholic church. Someone will put a hit out on me for saying this, but I don’t go to confession. Let me re-phrase that. I do not go into a confessional. I tell God my deepest and darkest secrets, regrets, and joys. An automatic pipeline, if you will. Right? Wrong? I don’t know. I’ll let God judge when it’s my time.

Yeah, I endured only 4 years of Catholic School, but it certainly left a mark. (and I mean that.)

I too dreaded going to Confession because I didn’t think I had that much to talk about. Now, I didn’t have a neat little book of sins to go by (although I wish I did… It might have given me some good ideas for fun things to do) so I only had the Ten Commandments to go by.

Not honoring father and mother was always a good fallback. Let’s see… false idols? I’m in 3rd grade, for pete’s sake… Does Bugs Bunny count?

Coveting neighbors wife? Uh, nope… she was like a thousand years old. Coveting neighbor’s goods? Idid like his little electric lawn mower, but I wasn’t allowed to cut the grass yet. How about coveting my brother’s toys?

Ah… name of the Lord in vain! I didn’t really do that one much, but at least it was plausible.

In all seriousness, I probably checked out of the whole Organized Religion thing right around 2nd grade, when we had a priest come in to take questions… you know… Play “Stump the Father”. I hit him with the dionsaur question and he gave me a bullshit answer. 2nd GRADE, and even I could tell it was bullshit. Like many boys, I read every dinosaur book in the library (wow… in retrospect, I’m surprised they even HAD dinosaur books in Catholic school.) Anyway, I knew that the dinos had been there for millions of years before mankind, yet he was up there still pushing that Seven Days stuff… He told me that back then, “the days could have been longer than they are now.”

I’m thinking, in my little kid head, “Is he flippin’ KIDDING me?” I wasn’t confident enough to argue with him about it though… The nuns will get you for that. In fact, maybe that’s what happened after all… Father Pinhead told her after class, “Make Dinosaur Boy pay…” I KNOW that’s really why she took my mechanical pencil away from me.

Another day, I asked what Jesus’ last name was. He told me “Christ.”

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN… wrong answer, and again, I knew he was BSing me. My mom knew the answer… People were named after their fathers, so it would have been “Jesus of Joseph”. Perfectly logical answer that I understood just fine. Why couldn’t he have told me that?

Sigh… OK, enough therapy for today… The important question is, why am I putting all this here when I have more than enough material for my own posting?

Don’t be surprised if you see this commentary appear again… =o)#

Sorry for the memories….

Talk about instilling a fear of the Lord into small innocent children…she was a definite ringer for that job!

I can even remember when my brothers all took turns being Alter Boys….they thought they were oh..so special because I could not be one.

LOL…oh my what a kaleidoscope of memories you have triggered with your post.

Some things I would rather not remember….and how clearly those memories seem to return

Nice one Cher

Although, my parents had a friend who was a nun and would visit us often. She always had a six-pack of beer tucked under the front panel of her habit. It was so …human, and I loved her for that.

I don’t have any experience with this, but it always seems to me that they would benefit from knowing THE GUYS a bit. From all the stories I hear, they are always depicted as so strict and uptight.

Also…..I love, “Sing solo, so low, I can’t hear you.” Brutal, but funny! And creative.