Confessions of a godless heretic
Just to illustrate how far adrift I've gone from my god-fearing ways...
As I was walking down the corridor here at the illustrious Louisana Tech Park, on my way to quench my thirst with a cool, refreshing sip of water, I passed by this woman that works down at the far end of the hall. This woman is... oh, about 50... and usually very properly dressed in business attire. We will frequently say our passing hellos and that's about the extent of our relationship.
Today, however, I found myself staring at her as she walked towards me in the hall. She looked as if she had been digging in the dirt, or had perhaps absent-mindedly placed her hands on her face after having handled a busted pen. You see, there was a rather large smudge of black right in the center of her forehead.
I stared at this spot, so prominently displayed on this normally austere woman, a good 5 seconds before I realized that I was doing so. And then, as we were passing each other, I came *this close* to venturing beyond my customary "hello" to alert this person of the blemish upon her forehead. But just as I opened my mouth, some tiny part of my memory sprang into action and I remembered that Christians the world wide (or is it just Catholics?) commemorate the day after Fat Tuesday (in which drinking and debauchery are expected and celebrated) by smudging a bit of ash on their faces.
Now, I don't think that I have ever smudged a little bit of ash on my face... well, not for any religous reason, anyway. I have several times smeared blue ink all over my cheeks. And I once hung baloons off of my ears. But that's probably not relevent here. I'm just glad that I remembered this bit of information before I said anything out loud which might cause some
unwarranted attention from our government.
Kristy writes "etcetera" after all her posts. I like that. But often times there doesn't seem to be anything else to say that would naturally follow, and so I'm left wondering what exactly the "etcetera" would be. Nonetheless, I'm exceedingly jealous of it and so am therefore introducing my own little catch signature term:
Thupt.
posted by Llama @ 2/09/2005 04:34:00 PM
5 comments
5 Comments:
you would have probably been suprised by the number of college students who show up to mass on ash wednesday to get ashes, i always am. of course about half leave and don't stay till the end... oh well.
i am not god-fearing and i got ashes... so i don't see that as relevant. but the day after fat tuesday! dude, fat tuesday is the day before ash wednesday... you godless heretic. :)
the episcopalians near where kristy works serve an excellent gumbo every friday during lent. they have seafood for the catholics and chicken for the protestants. mmmm.
Also, is there a mailing list for this blog, or am i going to actually come and check it periodically. -E
No mailing list... don't know how to do it (yet) and not sure I like the idea... kind of takes away the community spririt, doesn't it? I'll look into it, though.
Kristy,
Anyone who doubts you have something else to say just doesn't know you very well :)
Kids and ashes... kind of reminds me of when my niece and nephew (who are being raised as good protestants by their devout father) say grace before dinner. We all join hands and sing
God our father
God our father
Once again
Once again
Now we ask our blessings
Now we ask our blessings
Ahmen
Ahmen
I have a couple problems with this grace. First, why are we repeating everything? Is god deaf? Do we have to say things twice because he misses it the first time? Second, why are we asking for "our" blessings? Shouldn't it be God's blessings that we are asking for?
But beyond all that, frequently my nephew, who is the most indoctrinated into the church of all of us, will start horsing around during the grace, or singing silly, or making up different lyrics, or whatever.
This all relates to children giving ashes in that religous traditions are turned into games to make them more palatable by children. To me, it takes the spritiuatity out of God. It reduces the holy and divine to a nursery rhyme. I recognize that it may be a nescessary tactic to indoctrinate children into the church, but it still strikes me as a little insidious and insincere.
I have an uncle and aunt in Colorado whose family always says grace before a meal.
God is great.
God is good.
Let us thank Him for our food.
My immediate family never said grace except when we were with them. The truly bizarre part for me, though, is that I periodically find myself saying this grace to myself as I walk from location to location. Never when I'm eating. I'll just be walking along some random hallway and realize I'm reciting this in my head. Maybe I'm always hungry but never realize it???
Alan
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