Holy Week
I had a busy work week.
And in the back of my mind I kept thinking about the Holy Weeks of my past.
45 or so years ago I’d spend the entire week in church, or so it seemed. As an altar boy, we were all expected to take our turn.
The Good Friday stations of the cross was the one that we all tried to avoid.
There was a whole bunch of standing, kneeling, moving and praying. It seemed to last a long time, and if you complained about it...
...the priest would explain about the 40 days and 40 nights.
The subject of all the time we spent at church came up recently as a whole bunch of priest’s names hit the news, as having been accused of molestation through the years.
My siblings and I were split on what that news meant to us.
“After seeing “Spotlight” I’ve had a hard time heading back to church,” one sibling said.
To be honest, it had much the same affect on me.
Yet, Mom was there.
“I still enjoy church,” she said.
I agree with that too.
The community of church has always been comforting to me.
I always look fondly back on those days as an altar boy as well, and that’s because we grew up in a parish where the priest was a little abrasive, but was a decent man.
You can evaluate a priest evenly as you get older.
When you’re a kid, you’re taught to treat the priest as next to God...
...many REALLY weren’t worthy, as it turns out.
Springsteen spoke of it a bit during his Broadway show. Everyone laughed when he said that you might drift away from the church at times, but when you’re a catholic, “you’re always on the team.”
I’m still on the team, and I will never actually go through Holy Week and not have the story run through my mind.
The betrayal, the torture, being crucified, the nails, carrying the cross, the vinegar instead of wine, Pilate, the stone, and the rising.
(How the Easter bunny got involved I’ll never know).
Yet, I recall reading the play on Palm Sunday...
...and rooting that somehow it wouldn’t go down as it did.
“Christ died for our sins.”
It was all so amazing and confusing.
I didn’t have any sins! I didn’t do it!!
And yet, as a 7 or 8-Year-old kid...
...I already felt guilty.
One of the amazing things is that it took me a long time to work through a lot of the guilt that I didn’t think I deserved back when I was a kid.
“I think about what some of those priests were accused of, and then consider that I was confessing to them!”
Yeah.
Seems weird.
And the hypocrisy of it all just doesn’t sit right with me on my bad days.
A mulligan for sleeping with porn stars?
Multi-millionaire preachers...
...who don’t include those who don’t look or feel as they do?
Back in those days of my youth, the nuns and the priests did a real number...
...I would pay for my sins.
If I didn’t do it all perfect I could burn for all eternity.
The classic story of being reborn...
...had some hiccups.
“I still pray every day,” another sibling chimed in.
“And I still am drawn back to the story,” I added.
Always on the team.
Just wonder what kind of game was being played.
A kid just couldn’t know.
And in the back of my mind I kept thinking about the Holy Weeks of my past.
45 or so years ago I’d spend the entire week in church, or so it seemed. As an altar boy, we were all expected to take our turn.
The Good Friday stations of the cross was the one that we all tried to avoid.
There was a whole bunch of standing, kneeling, moving and praying. It seemed to last a long time, and if you complained about it...
...the priest would explain about the 40 days and 40 nights.
The subject of all the time we spent at church came up recently as a whole bunch of priest’s names hit the news, as having been accused of molestation through the years.
My siblings and I were split on what that news meant to us.
“After seeing “Spotlight” I’ve had a hard time heading back to church,” one sibling said.
To be honest, it had much the same affect on me.
Yet, Mom was there.
“I still enjoy church,” she said.
I agree with that too.
The community of church has always been comforting to me.
I always look fondly back on those days as an altar boy as well, and that’s because we grew up in a parish where the priest was a little abrasive, but was a decent man.
You can evaluate a priest evenly as you get older.
When you’re a kid, you’re taught to treat the priest as next to God...
...many REALLY weren’t worthy, as it turns out.
Springsteen spoke of it a bit during his Broadway show. Everyone laughed when he said that you might drift away from the church at times, but when you’re a catholic, “you’re always on the team.”
I’m still on the team, and I will never actually go through Holy Week and not have the story run through my mind.
The betrayal, the torture, being crucified, the nails, carrying the cross, the vinegar instead of wine, Pilate, the stone, and the rising.
(How the Easter bunny got involved I’ll never know).
Yet, I recall reading the play on Palm Sunday...
...and rooting that somehow it wouldn’t go down as it did.
“Christ died for our sins.”
It was all so amazing and confusing.
I didn’t have any sins! I didn’t do it!!
And yet, as a 7 or 8-Year-old kid...
...I already felt guilty.
One of the amazing things is that it took me a long time to work through a lot of the guilt that I didn’t think I deserved back when I was a kid.
“I think about what some of those priests were accused of, and then consider that I was confessing to them!”
Yeah.
Seems weird.
And the hypocrisy of it all just doesn’t sit right with me on my bad days.
A mulligan for sleeping with porn stars?
Multi-millionaire preachers...
...who don’t include those who don’t look or feel as they do?
Back in those days of my youth, the nuns and the priests did a real number...
...I would pay for my sins.
If I didn’t do it all perfect I could burn for all eternity.
The classic story of being reborn...
...had some hiccups.
“I still pray every day,” another sibling chimed in.
“And I still am drawn back to the story,” I added.
Always on the team.
Just wonder what kind of game was being played.
A kid just couldn’t know.
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