I actually can't quite identify why I've been bursting to share this story. It certainly demonstrates how meaningless religion can really become, in this case Catholicism. (Yes I do consider my Catholic phase of my life a "case". I suppose if Pat Boone can go leather, MC Hammer can go thug, Shaq can go actor or Ann Coulter can go....actually what does she do exactly I can at least say my Catholic phase was equally unsuccessful and I didn't need to wear leather, parachute pants, a genie outfit or skirts that look more like thin oven mitts...so it ain't that bad!)
Around my 16th year of existence on this earth I was at church and REALLY bored. Not like the normal bored. I mean so bored that I entertained the thought of taking my pants off just to get kicked out (of course in the C-posse's case instead of getting kicked out I probably would have ended up with dozens of dates with the priests to talk development and vino...).
And then it happened. A priest (in this case Fr. Yast, one of the few interesting priests I ever met in my life....) said something new and interesting. And it's this and what comes in a bit what I remember and nothing more. Because it was either the same readings and sermon like...52 weeks ago...to the day!
On a side note, sermon comes from the Latin root of discourse...not!
Oh yeah, and how about these 2 definitions of it (American Heritage Dictionary...and the US invented English right??):
- A religious discourse delivered as part of a church service.
- An often lengthy and tedious speech of reproof or exhortation.
I bet if someone put those two definitions in front of me, with nothing else. I would come up with ? for #1 and SERMON for #2!
So that day he decided to take us to task (did I mention I was Catholic??) because we never pay attention. He said he could say anything and we were all sort of like Pavlovian robotic drones (ok, I came up with that) and we'd just respond without thinking.
Sure enough, as mass headed into the home stretch (know as sharing our peace by shaking hands with fellow flockers while mustering up a fake smile saying "Peace be with you" if we didn't know them, "Did you see the game????" if we did) Fr. Yast played his ace.
Typically he says, actually I should refer to ALL the priests, not just Fr. Yast...wait a minute they're all dudes...
Typically he says "May the peace of yadda yadda yadda be with you all"
We respond with the type of effervescence usually heard in any high council of any sci film (Star Wars..etc.)..."And also with you".
Well, my man said "Cheeseburger and Fries".
Same number of syllables...close enough....it's our turn "And also with you." we all responded.
I remember how his body and could picture what his face looked like, but we were in the back and they hadn't put in jumbotrons yet. (See we typically got in line, grabbed a wafer, got the necessary face time with the priest and walked straight out. A sign that we were there and had stayed through the point at which they got our money...it's all good. So it wasn't uncommon for me to be munching on the last remnants of the body of Christ in the car, all immediately attentive, silent and interested, because we usually caught Casey Kasem's long distance dedication...yeah baby!)
My bet is he felt like he was looking out into a sea of morons, did they seriously just do that. Sort of like how Tom Hanks' character felt as the back up catcher got ready for the big game..."You're killin' me Alice...You're KILLIN' me."
I'm sure he was thinking, seriously, can't they think for themselves? Aren't they engaged or at least worried enough about how I will treat them if they screw up?
Other than the times when one of my other brothers farted and because of the pews and their amplifcatative nature was always loud and would get into trouble and the non-caught (not guilt free, just non-caught...) brothers looked on giggling uncontrollably, it was the only thing that I remember vividly about the masses I went to.
After a year or two they all sound the same and muscle memory (for standing, kneeling, etc.) and judgment conditioning (for, like everything else) got me through it and like the priest could have said "Cheeseburger and fries" and I would have said "And also with you".
In this case, actually, I didn't. Not because I'd learned my lesson, rather because I wasn't paying attention because I was, like REALLY bored.