It puzzled me for the longest time, Patricia! The other one that threw me - to continue the sacramental theme - was "breakfast," because, while obviously I ate brekfust every morning, the only meaning I had ever heard attached to "break fast" was that it was what you did after avoiding food for three hours before Communion, and these people who were eating it in the story books didn't even seem to have gone to Mass! There was a whole confusing world waiting for me out there, but thank you for the kind comment on the post.
Well, that's some impressive lineage, Ronald. I've always known the Greek gods mated with humans but had not heard that the Northern European deities were so licentious. What naughty gods they were ...
It reminded me of my first communion, church of England. My mother made my lovely dress, lined lace top, cotton twill body and skirt. Prob 1965. Service in Chichester Cathedral, the Bishop taking it. The girls wore short veils. Ankle socks, white gloves.
Oh I do wish you'd told them…let the closet Catholics out for a brief respite! I was taken back to my own first communion over 60 years ago 🥹 but we were English Catholics, and didn't go in for fancy breakfasts afterwards, just a gracious acceptance that the generational truths had been passed successfully…oh, and move out of London; in the north and west of the country we're much friendlier and/or nosier! (Tho I have lovely London family 😁)
I didn't dare to let it on, Barbara! I still remember in my first few weeks at university casually telling a group of people that the reason I couldn't meet them for coffee at their suggested time on a Sunday morning was that I'd be at Mass, and their facial expressions suggested I'd broken wind halfway through a strip routine before breakfast! The general English character is one of honesty and moral rectitude, but this is a side of it I have never, ever understood ...
I'm guessing you weren't studying in Liverpool, the centre of the Catholic universe in England (I think so.anyway!) I also think that since COVID, we're a bit less reserved about sharing spiritual ideas, having come closer to the reality of mortality...(and text predict just cheered me up, suggesting "the reality of Northampton..."!)
As an atheist, the communion/mass thing has always bemused me. I presume there's a logical explanation, but consuming the body and blood of a historical figure seems rather disturbing to me.
It's a strange one all right, Bob. A practising Catholic - which I no longer am - might say that there's a wonder and delight in taking a leap of faith that defies all logic, but you should probably ask one of them rather than taking my word for it. I will say that for a child, it's pure magic, and for an adult, there's even more magic in observing it.
It puzzled me for the longest time, Patricia! The other one that threw me - to continue the sacramental theme - was "breakfast," because, while obviously I ate brekfust every morning, the only meaning I had ever heard attached to "break fast" was that it was what you did after avoiding food for three hours before Communion, and these people who were eating it in the story books didn't even seem to have gone to Mass! There was a whole confusing world waiting for me out there, but thank you for the kind comment on the post.
I'd forgotten about not eating before receiving. However,as my church was a few miles away by bicycle, my mother insisted I eat something before.
Wow, your mother was lenient, Suzette. We had to pay attention wile we brushed our teeth in case we swallowed the toothpaste!
The inexplicable spelling of Wednesday. It is time it was called out! Lovely piece
Poor old Woden!!!
Inexplicable indeed! Woden is an ancestor of ours, according to my Granny's family tree. (Descent by way of the Saxon kings and Lady Godiva.)
Well, that's some impressive lineage, Ronald. I've always known the Greek gods mated with humans but had not heard that the Northern European deities were so licentious. What naughty gods they were ...
I've always known it as Woden's Day, so a reasonable spelling.
Well, you were a quick-witted boy, then, it took me forever to figure it out!
An excellent piece. Thank you.
It reminded me of my first communion, church of England. My mother made my lovely dress, lined lace top, cotton twill body and skirt. Prob 1965. Service in Chichester Cathedral, the Bishop taking it. The girls wore short veils. Ankle socks, white gloves.
Thank you, Suzette. It is a particularly sweet ceremony, and the older and more battle-scarred you become, the sweeter it seems.
Oh I do wish you'd told them…let the closet Catholics out for a brief respite! I was taken back to my own first communion over 60 years ago 🥹 but we were English Catholics, and didn't go in for fancy breakfasts afterwards, just a gracious acceptance that the generational truths had been passed successfully…oh, and move out of London; in the north and west of the country we're much friendlier and/or nosier! (Tho I have lovely London family 😁)
I didn't dare to let it on, Barbara! I still remember in my first few weeks at university casually telling a group of people that the reason I couldn't meet them for coffee at their suggested time on a Sunday morning was that I'd be at Mass, and their facial expressions suggested I'd broken wind halfway through a strip routine before breakfast! The general English character is one of honesty and moral rectitude, but this is a side of it I have never, ever understood ...
I'm guessing you weren't studying in Liverpool, the centre of the Catholic universe in England (I think so.anyway!) I also think that since COVID, we're a bit less reserved about sharing spiritual ideas, having come closer to the reality of mortality...(and text predict just cheered me up, suggesting "the reality of Northampton..."!)
As an atheist, the communion/mass thing has always bemused me. I presume there's a logical explanation, but consuming the body and blood of a historical figure seems rather disturbing to me.
It's a strange one all right, Bob. A practising Catholic - which I no longer am - might say that there's a wonder and delight in taking a leap of faith that defies all logic, but you should probably ask one of them rather than taking my word for it. I will say that for a child, it's pure magic, and for an adult, there's even more magic in observing it.