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Having been at this Godly forum with it's Godly people for over a month has worked miracles on my soul.
But earlier tonight was the turning point. The point where I finally understood that all you all have been trying to tell me here is pure distilled Truth!
I was Catholic, and thought that was okay - just part of the spectrum of God's family.
Tonight I learned differently. I was volunteering (as is usual for me Thursday nights) at my local Catholic church, scraping the days emissions from the floor of the Father's side of the confessional. Dirty job, but it has to be done. (sometimes several times in a single day)
As I was applying the bleach and spermicide, I heard a woman praying in a strong Italian accent. I peeked out and sure enough it was Maria Grazia, the absolute despotic matriarch of this parish community. If this woman says you aren't in the 'in' crowd, you can't even get a credit card from Wal-Mart. This woman gots pull.
She was praying to the large statue of Mary just to the right of the confessional.
I sneaked out of the confessional, and up behind the giant statue of Christ on the cross in back of the altar. Figured I'd teach her a lesson about praying to dead joos, instead of Christ.
I boomed out in my deepest, most manly voice, 'I HEAR you my child!'. She looked up, and rather than awed she seemed irritated. 'Is that you Lord?' she asked. 'Yes, my child!', I answered.
To which she tossed her wrinkled head and said 'Shut uppa your mouth! I'm a talkin to your momma!'.
Okay. Can't be part of that anymore.
From this day forward I am a true Christian. I've had enough of that Papist heresy to last a lifetime.
And Grannie Grazia smells. It's bad enough trying to scrape clean the confessional without the old lady stench wafting in at the same time.
Doesn't mingle well with the odor of priestly accidents.
But earlier tonight was the turning point. The point where I finally understood that all you all have been trying to tell me here is pure distilled Truth!
I was Catholic, and thought that was okay - just part of the spectrum of God's family.
Tonight I learned differently. I was volunteering (as is usual for me Thursday nights) at my local Catholic church, scraping the days emissions from the floor of the Father's side of the confessional. Dirty job, but it has to be done. (sometimes several times in a single day)
As I was applying the bleach and spermicide, I heard a woman praying in a strong Italian accent. I peeked out and sure enough it was Maria Grazia, the absolute despotic matriarch of this parish community. If this woman says you aren't in the 'in' crowd, you can't even get a credit card from Wal-Mart. This woman gots pull.
She was praying to the large statue of Mary just to the right of the confessional.
I sneaked out of the confessional, and up behind the giant statue of Christ on the cross in back of the altar. Figured I'd teach her a lesson about praying to dead joos, instead of Christ.
I boomed out in my deepest, most manly voice, 'I HEAR you my child!'. She looked up, and rather than awed she seemed irritated. 'Is that you Lord?' she asked. 'Yes, my child!', I answered.
To which she tossed her wrinkled head and said 'Shut uppa your mouth! I'm a talkin to your momma!'.
Okay. Can't be part of that anymore.
From this day forward I am a true Christian. I've had enough of that Papist heresy to last a lifetime.
And Grannie Grazia smells. It's bad enough trying to scrape clean the confessional without the old lady stench wafting in at the same time.
Doesn't mingle well with the odor of priestly accidents.
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