Does the Queen get to keep the Maundy money?
-
-
Catholic children everywhere are offering thanks to St Coronavirus, the patron saint of not having to go to church several times in a single weekend.
Unfortunately he is also the patron saint of not being able to do anything else instead. -
Your god is very weird.Comment
-
Last Easter I saw someone die in front of me, I did not think it could get worse this year...well...Comment
-
The pathetic desire to ask did they come back to life two days later will not leave me. Sorry Yuri...Comment
-
Weird and time consuming. I opted out as soon as I possibly could.Originally posted by Gangster Octopus View PostComment
-
I'm hoping to do all of our church's online "services" this weekend if I can, just to be in touch with other people. We've been doing them every Sunday and they're a tight 20-30 minutes. One hymn, childrens' message, a sermony kind of thing, announcements, benediction and out. We have a guy who used to work in public TV, so he's very good at producing it.Comment
-
-
The coronavirus robs me of my annual chance to snipe that the name 'Easter' is simply a Christian hijacking after several centuries of the middle age pagan "Oestre" festival that involved, you know, the spring festival, rebirth of flowers, eggs, come on, how much more do you need.
Oh, and when it comes to the biblical resurrection, funny how the crowd shouted to save the criminal Barabas before they nailed the unfortunate ones up. That would be the Bar-Abbas that means son of the father, then. What a fortuitous name that was while the crowd wanted plain old "Jesus" to get nailed up before Jesus, aka the son of the father, reappeared a couple of days later as right as rain. If you follow where I'm going with that.
Still, this year's not the time. I enjoy Urbi et Orbi as much as anyone ( I love the grandeur of St Peter's) and believe it or not I do respect religions. I have found it mostly true that people who believe in something and follow a set of morals are nicer than people who follow nothing and have no set of morals. I know some people who are faithful are definitely more patient and better humanitarians than this bitter old atheist.
So enjoy your spring festival OTF whatever gods you worship (in my case at this time of year the lady of Rae's Creek at Augusta, who must be wondering where the fuck we all are). Have a lovely weekend and stay indoors.
Comment
-
Generally, we got off lightly in our childhood, with the only non-Sunday activity being the Stations of the Cross on Good Friday (as opposed to the Stations, which largely involve sandwiches, baked goods, and employment of one's fanciest kitchenware).Comment
-
About 15 or so years ago we stayed with some friends in Oxford and had dinner in a restaurant that was a deconsecrated church, probably Catholic. Around the walls were the faded Stations of the Cross. Slightly amusingly, two of the party were a Baptist minister and his wife, both very nice people indeed (the minister now writes horror novels when not giving services) . She was amazed to learn about the Stations from lapsed Anglican me, she'd never heard of them.Comment
-
Bar-Abbas in an early manuscript of Matthew's gospel is named Yeshua bar-Abbas. Disappointingly, Bar-Abbas was a fairly common name, so there's no symbolic value to it. Even today, Abbas is a fairly standard Muslim name.Originally posted by Rogin the Armchair fan View Post
So in the battle of the Jesuses, we have Son of the Father vs Son of Man (a theologically loaded title Jesus of Nazareth gave himself; he never titled himself after a hit by Chicory Tip). The thing is, Bar-Abbas probably wasn't a criminal but a rank-and-file revolutionary. As a freedom fighter, he'd have a few votes in Pilate's plebiscite in hand whoever his opponent was, unless such an opponent was an even better liberation fighter.
But he wasn't. He came into Jerusalem with a big reputation and massive hype of being the guy who'll kick the Romans out, even if he never said that political sedition was his game. And he obviously didn't defeat the Romans. In fact, he now was at the mercy of the Romans. So, who's the crowd going to go for: brave local hero fighter in the anti-colonial struggle or failed revolutionary from northern Wales? The poor Nazarene never had a chance.
Comment
-
That sounds good, HP. I know that my Dad is missing being able to go along to services, as much for the social aspect as anything else. Before they went behind closed doors, he made the obvious joke about social distancing not being a huge problem with the average congregation size where he goes.Originally posted by Hot Pepsi View PostComment
-
Importantly, we have a pack of hot cross buns in the freezer. That’s what really matters at Easter.Comment
-
Easter used to be big with me, as I was brought up as a catholic. We did the whole Lent thing, went to countless masses, had loads of chocolate (though not me, as I don't like it). One Easter we went to Lourdes on a pilgrimage:
I don’t remember how we got to Paris but from there we caught a sleeper train with our destination somewhere near Lourdes (or possibly Lourdes itself, I don’t remember). I slept well during the journey but when I woke up it was discovered that the train was one of those which split in two at some point of the journey and that our coaches, due to some mistake, had arrived in Irún in the north of Spain instead of somewhere closer to our real destination. (Our trip did include Spain; only not just yet.)
I can’t recall how things were sorted out, given that none of us on the trip – kids, parents, nuns and priests – had the foggiest idea of how to speak Spanish. I think there was an Englishman living in Spain who helped us to find a train which took us back into Spain. You also have to bear in mind that this was during Franco’s reign in Spain and the local Guardia Civil may have been slightly wary of our group – although, being religious pilgrims, this may not have been altogether the case!
We were in Spain, mainly, to visit the shrine of St. Ignatius in Loyola. We stayed in a hotel in San Sebastián, where one of the nuns insisted on showing the staff how to make a “proper” cup of tea and where many people complained about the greasy food, olive oil not being a common ingredient in England at the time. We also marvelled at Spanish toilets in the local bars which at the time often consisted of little more than primitive long drop, with flush systems which deposited water around your feet.
Back to Lourdes, to a hotel. There was something regimental about how we were all served the same lunches and the same dinners: and always onion soup as a starter. Lourdes itself was kitsch and cripples, and the ever-present holy water. We went on the torchlight procession, singing “Ave Maria” all the way. I was a believer back then, a regular churchgoer, even though mass bored me more or less from the start, though even after giving up attending services every Sunday I used to silently say a prayer in bed – maybe an Our Father and a Hail Mary – every night for several subsequent years.
Comment
-
I got as far as baptism and no further - never had my first communion as such, though I did once go up and get a wafer anyway, which I think means I'm going to hell. Not that I'm short of things I'm going to hell for anyway. And I've never said sorry.
We did go to church a bit when I was younger. I stopped - I think copying my older brother at the time. I don't recall ever "believing". But I did Catholic schools - the ones in my town were better than the state schools - so I learned most of the stuff anyway.
The thing that annoyed me most about Easter - still does if I'm honest - was the lie that Sunday is three days after Friday.
When I was running the football club, we got moans about kicking off at 3pm on Good Friday. Ridiculous people.
Edit: our school did that whole hideous Lourdes thing. My god. I didn't join in, obvs.Comment
-
I had no choice and in any case was pretty much indoctrinated at the time.Comment
-
I was sent to Catholic schools whenever they were available and went to mass every Sunday at Dad’s insistence while he had a lie-in or played golf. Easter had a big spectacle mass, with local big cheeses (always men) getting to read bits, like a little play. And the priest dressed up even more than normal.
As soon as I hit puberty (quite late,14) and then punk I refused to go. Expecting a huge row I was stunned when my Dad said ‘Well if those are your beliefs..”Comment
-
Being brought up in a smorgasbord of barely observant Irish (High) Church of Ireland - dad’s side - and Ashkenazi Jewish heritage - mum’s Silesian background - , I have the win-win of first-full-moon-after-the-spring-equinox festivals to dip into. So it’s latkes, mazto balls and brisket for the Passover seder, fish on Good Friday, lamb on Sunday and as many chocolate eggs as I can stuff in my face. All without having to bother myself unduly with any religious observations and pieties, and never got as far as communion or bar mitzvah. So I’m comfortable enough and know the ropes in both church and synagogue, but not expected to attend either, and happy enough with that mostly secular arrangement.Comment
-
I’m quite glad we’ve not done arse wiping previously.Comment
-
Predictably, we have done arsewiping. If my vague recollection is correct, Bored kicked it off by asking whether OTFers folded or scrunched their used paper over and had a second wipe. A few owned up...Comment
-
Actually now you mention it, someone once posted a chart of various poo types.Comment
-
Probably the Bristol Stool Chart, which hangs on the walls of the khazis at the hut.Originally posted by Sits View Post
Comment
-
Amazingly, I still have my Loyola pennant:
Comment
Comment