upon their chariots and their charioteers
Because she loves me, and because PI(E) = LOVE (and also 3.14), luzdeestrellas wrote Pi for me! It is Sam and Dean being adorkable and brotherly and SO FREAKING CUTE I COULD DIE. PI(E)!
And one of the ladies here at work brought in hamantashen, so I have actual cookies to go with my literary pie. And okay, technically I am supposed to be fasting (and abstaining) today (at least according to the lovely new Catholic fasting rules of 2 small meals + dinner), but I feel that holiday cookies shouldn't count against me. I've never been that fond of Good Friday's services, anyway. At least on Holy Thursday, there was the foot-washing (though I personally found that a little icky in practice, not that I ever had my feet washed in church), and that whole birth of the Eucharist thing, but Good Friday is just a downer all around. And also, as a child, I was quite scandalized and traumatized at the veneration of the cross, where people would line up to kiss the feet of the crucifix. Thinking about it now, it STILL creeps me out. *shudder*
I don't talk about religion here, for various reasons - mostly because the topic is contentious and I have no wish to fight about it in this space, which I don't believe is conducive to serious discussion, but also because my relationship with it is complicated.
I was raised Catholic and still identify that way, though I didn't even manage Ashes or Palms this year; I've become a C&E (Christmas & Easter) Catholic, a prime example of American cafeteria Catholicism, which is what many people would tell you is wrong with American Catholicism. I am okay with that.
As I said, I'm not fond of Good Friday services in particular, but on the whole, I love and am comforted by the rituals of the Catholic church, the hushed expectancy of a congregation waiting for Mass to start, or Communion to be distributed, the stained glass windows and the stations of the cross, the votive candles (no longer flickering and smoking, as my old church converted to electric "candles" before I moved. sigh.), and the alcoves with statues of saints, smooth patches telling of the places where believers added touch to their prayers. The old ladies silently saying their rosaries in Italian through the (English) Mass. (Possibly this is one reason I'm not fond of my parents' church on LI - too bright, too modern, no little old widow ladies in black wandering around; and also, the music sucks. I don't know who thought soft adult contemporary was a good style for religious music, but they should be taken out back and shot.)
One of my favorite readings will be read tomorrow night at the Easter vigil (which I will not be attending, because it is three hours long and includes baptisms and confirmations), Exodus 14:15-15:1, also known as "the chariots and charioteers" in my family, because my dad used to lector, and that was always the reading he read for the Easter vigil, and he used to rehearse ahead of time, and he has that kind of deep, resonant preacher-type voice, so I hear him in my head even now, and those are warm childhood memories.
Anyway, I like believing in something, so there's that, too.
And on a less navel-gazing note, I find religion - all of 'em - fascinating, as history (true or otherwise), as literature, as a record of the changing beliefs and understanding of various civilizations over the course of human history, such as it is.
Right now, though, I am enjoying the cookies.
***
And one of the ladies here at work brought in hamantashen, so I have actual cookies to go with my literary pie. And okay, technically I am supposed to be fasting (and abstaining) today (at least according to the lovely new Catholic fasting rules of 2 small meals + dinner), but I feel that holiday cookies shouldn't count against me. I've never been that fond of Good Friday's services, anyway. At least on Holy Thursday, there was the foot-washing (though I personally found that a little icky in practice, not that I ever had my feet washed in church), and that whole birth of the Eucharist thing, but Good Friday is just a downer all around. And also, as a child, I was quite scandalized and traumatized at the veneration of the cross, where people would line up to kiss the feet of the crucifix. Thinking about it now, it STILL creeps me out. *shudder*
I don't talk about religion here, for various reasons - mostly because the topic is contentious and I have no wish to fight about it in this space, which I don't believe is conducive to serious discussion, but also because my relationship with it is complicated.
I was raised Catholic and still identify that way, though I didn't even manage Ashes or Palms this year; I've become a C&E (Christmas & Easter) Catholic, a prime example of American cafeteria Catholicism, which is what many people would tell you is wrong with American Catholicism. I am okay with that.
As I said, I'm not fond of Good Friday services in particular, but on the whole, I love and am comforted by the rituals of the Catholic church, the hushed expectancy of a congregation waiting for Mass to start, or Communion to be distributed, the stained glass windows and the stations of the cross, the votive candles (no longer flickering and smoking, as my old church converted to electric "candles" before I moved. sigh.), and the alcoves with statues of saints, smooth patches telling of the places where believers added touch to their prayers. The old ladies silently saying their rosaries in Italian through the (English) Mass. (Possibly this is one reason I'm not fond of my parents' church on LI - too bright, too modern, no little old widow ladies in black wandering around; and also, the music sucks. I don't know who thought soft adult contemporary was a good style for religious music, but they should be taken out back and shot.)
One of my favorite readings will be read tomorrow night at the Easter vigil (which I will not be attending, because it is three hours long and includes baptisms and confirmations), Exodus 14:15-15:1, also known as "the chariots and charioteers" in my family, because my dad used to lector, and that was always the reading he read for the Easter vigil, and he used to rehearse ahead of time, and he has that kind of deep, resonant preacher-type voice, so I hear him in my head even now, and those are warm childhood memories.
Anyway, I like believing in something, so there's that, too.
And on a less navel-gazing note, I find religion - all of 'em - fascinating, as history (true or otherwise), as literature, as a record of the changing beliefs and understanding of various civilizations over the course of human history, such as it is.
Right now, though, I am enjoying the cookies.
***