Sunday, September 25, 2011

#7- Adolescent Years

After Haitian Baptist


I think my mother eventually got the drift and stopped attending the booji Haitian church.  We kinda bounced around the church scene for a while.  If you were wondering about my step-father I will tell you what happened to him.  He is Catholic and remains that way-at least in his mind.  He NEVER went to church with us and that was OK because he is such a sour puss but I didn't understand how much the denominational differences had something to do with it.

One Easter holiday I was in the kitchen rummaging for food when I asked my mother for a dish with meat in it.  My step-father who behaves like a neanderthal grunt dinosaur snarled that it is "Good Friday" and eating meat was not permitted.  He said it with a threatening tone as to not be crossed.  I remember looking up at my mother and thinking:

"What did the barbarian just say?"

She explained that in the Catholic tradition believers were forbidden from eating meat during the 3 day Easter celebration.  A few things were of interest to me at that time:

1.  Why do they call it "Good Friday"?  A man, Jesus, was beat up in the most egregious way and they considered this GOOD?  I had a vision of me going back in time with to belts of ammunition strapped across my chest Rambo-style and laying waste to the Romans as they attempted to beat up Gentle Jesus Meek and Mild.

Note:  I had not read the Bible at that point.

2.  I wasn't Catholic so why could I eat meat?  He never went to church with us and I had some appreciation of the difference between Catholics and Protestants and having been unwittingly transformed to a Protestant I naturally...protested.  I started to realize that there were more differences between the two sects then I realized.  My step-father used to hang crosses made from palm tree leaves on his rear view mirror.  I guess he got them at his local Catholic church because I knew him to be a man of few talents.

My mother and I went to different churches.  I would have stretches where I'd stay home and watch my siblings.  She was tired of having to march the herd to church and would often go solo.  This was great because I had become an avid fan of that game that my parents once described as "sovage" (savaged)-American Football.

Eventually I would meet people who would invite me to different churches and I'd go to keep from dying of boredom, avoid watching my siblings or escape chores.  My mother didn't really care and that was great because it gave me some great exposure to different church cultures.

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