Been down to Newcastle for a wedding. Our ex-neighbour moved down there to get hitched to a fella she met in her church. He’s the spitting image of Chris Farley except he’s still alive and he’s not even a little bit funny. I had never been to an Anglican service, which I discovered has nothing to do with fishing, but is in fact a little like Catholicism without the fascist bits. Just like the Catholics they like to have a biscuit and a sip of wine at their gatherings and pretend it’s the body and blood of Christ. Their god is that good you can eat him. There was a fair stampede as all the oldies jumped up and hobbled and caned their way down front, desperate for one more holy biscuit before they kark. They're that good.
I didn’t partake since I’m not Anglican and I don’t drink, especially not somebody’s last holy saviour, so I was checking out the architecture and watching the priest/pastor fella up the back. All together, after he had filled and poured, poured and filled, transferring wine back and forth between silver goblets like a holy three card monty game, he had had nine (9) big drinks of wine. Luckily he didn’t have a speaking part, he just worked up at the back mixing the drinks and handing out the biscuits.
Got me wondering though. Those biscuits, where do they come from? A holy cracker factory? How do they get to be holy? Do they get blessed right there at the factory, or do you have to bless them yourself? And can you bless a whole box at once or do you have to bless them individually? I don’t think they do it at the factory otherwise you’d see trucks on the road with special signs CAUTION – LEVEL 3 HOLY CARGO and a phone number to report spills. Also they would be a target for criminals dealing in black-market salvation. They must be expensive already because he was sweeping every last crumb into the cup and drinking them down too, then he wiped the rim of the cup with his napkin, put it to his lips and sucked out the last little bit. I’m not sure, he may have rubbed a little on his gums.
No, I think it must be part of the priest/pastor person’s job to bless the cookies. And then probably only in small batches as left-over Christ goes stale surprisingly quickly.
There were even some people there from Louisiana. I overheard a very tanned woman say to her daughter “Go on now. Y’all goan git the camera ‘cause here she comes”. My head snapped around and for a moment I couldn’t remember what friggin country I was living in.
There was a four hour break between the ceremony and dinner and I was starving. I imagined Jesus laughing at me saying “Should have had some of me when you had the chance, smart guy”. We had a look around for 10 minutes then said the hell with it and went and found a McDonalds.
Instead of the body of Christ I ended up with some clown’s nuggets.
I didn’t partake since I’m not Anglican and I don’t drink, especially not somebody’s last holy saviour, so I was checking out the architecture and watching the priest/pastor fella up the back. All together, after he had filled and poured, poured and filled, transferring wine back and forth between silver goblets like a holy three card monty game, he had had nine (9) big drinks of wine. Luckily he didn’t have a speaking part, he just worked up at the back mixing the drinks and handing out the biscuits.
Got me wondering though. Those biscuits, where do they come from? A holy cracker factory? How do they get to be holy? Do they get blessed right there at the factory, or do you have to bless them yourself? And can you bless a whole box at once or do you have to bless them individually? I don’t think they do it at the factory otherwise you’d see trucks on the road with special signs CAUTION – LEVEL 3 HOLY CARGO and a phone number to report spills. Also they would be a target for criminals dealing in black-market salvation. They must be expensive already because he was sweeping every last crumb into the cup and drinking them down too, then he wiped the rim of the cup with his napkin, put it to his lips and sucked out the last little bit. I’m not sure, he may have rubbed a little on his gums.
No, I think it must be part of the priest/pastor person’s job to bless the cookies. And then probably only in small batches as left-over Christ goes stale surprisingly quickly.
There were even some people there from Louisiana. I overheard a very tanned woman say to her daughter “Go on now. Y’all goan git the camera ‘cause here she comes”. My head snapped around and for a moment I couldn’t remember what friggin country I was living in.
There was a four hour break between the ceremony and dinner and I was starving. I imagined Jesus laughing at me saying “Should have had some of me when you had the chance, smart guy”. We had a look around for 10 minutes then said the hell with it and went and found a McDonalds.
Instead of the body of Christ I ended up with some clown’s nuggets.
3 comments:
Chicken nuggets are 55% corn. Did you know that? They also have bit of lighter fluid in them to keep the fat from discoloring.
Its why Michael Jackson told his young friends the wine he offered them was "Jesus juice". Transubstantiation is one hell of a defence in court.
My short stint as a member didn't include wine. I guess I had the luck of being in the teetotaler parish.
Which explains why I drink like a heathen now!
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