Thursday, February 16, 2023

The Only White Guy in Palestine

I was born a Roman Catholic but raised guilty (I stole that line from Charlie Behrens who is a genius in my humble opinion)  and have had a rather strained relationship with Holy Mother Church for most of my life. 

I and my brothers and sisters all attended parochial school for elementary school where we had extended encounters with every level of The Church, and if you're confused let me explain how the Roman Catholic Church is sort of like a layer cake. 

There's the Roman Catholic Church of the Pope and the College of Cardinals, as well as the Church of your monsignor and the parish priests but the one that really counts (actually the only one that counts) is the one the nuns operate; that's the Roman Catholic Church where the rubber meets the road. Those of us who interacted with nuns are scarred for life and try to handle survivor's guilt every day. 

Catholics, speaking as one (sort of) don't really understand what most Protestants are about in general, especially evangelical Protestants. Between us, I don't think Jesus would have appreciated American Evangelicals all that much either. 

That might be why the He Gets Us tv ads during the Super Bowl were...different at least for me. 

I grew up watching Jason Kidd make the sign of the cross before attempting a free throw which, to me, was nearly as blasphemous as the centerfielder who crossed himself before stepping into the batter's box or watching the relief pitcher on the mound kiss the cross on the end of his rosary around his neck after a strikeout.   

I've long since abandoned the idea of Divinity as My Invisible Friend but the Jesus in the Super Bowl commercials really creeps me out. I'm hopeful if that is indeed the future of Christianity in the United States, then perhaps there will be some distinctive clothing to go with it so that from a distance I'll have a better idea of who's approaching me on the Road to Damascus.    
-bill kenny

No comments:

Re-Roasting a Christmas Chestnut

I tell this tale every year and will continue to do so even as they lock me away in the home. I've taken to calling it:  Bill's Chri...