An Encounter with The Speakin’ Deacon

Kevin died. Kevin was the father of a good friend and neighbor of mine, enough said. So to support the family, we went to the wake with other neighbors and friends. There were some lovely paintings about the room; I guess he was an artist of sorts. Otherwise, having never met the man, there was very little to tell about his life.
Until you met the speakin’ deacon. If you check my previous blogs, you will notice that I am totally freaked out when someone gets up there and describes their version of religion. I am also convinced that speakers at services are under some sort of mandate (or hypnotized) to begin a rant as soon as possible not about the deceased’s life and loves, but about “how the deceased brought Jesus into my life in the past two weeks.” huh?
I came away with this knowledge:
1. Upon death, you are closer to God than you can ever be, in your life.
2. Upon death, you are given all the knoweldge you ever wanted. You know the answer to everything.
3. The deceased now is an intercessory to Jesus or God, I forgot which.
There were other theologic facts stated, but I thought these three were the best ones. They alone merit a straightjacket.
My thoughts:
1. Okay, then. the earth has no reference whatsoever to the divine. I need to know that next time I am awed by the beauty of the sky, the stars, life itself. It is not sacred. It is not blessed.
2. Maybe now I’ll know the answers to all those third grade math questions that got me kicked out of the advanced classes and into the “2” class where I learned music instead of Latin.
3. Not sure about this. I think it refers to how I was taught as a kid to use the different saints for different things. As an adult, naturally I use different goddesses for different things. After all, the goddesses are aspects of the ONE. But the saints are people who got elected by us after they were dead. It’s all so confusing.
All in all, this Catholic services wasn’t half as offensive as the straight-out Christian one where the speaker was almost rolling his eyes up in his head. This deacon was nice and mild. He raised his hand when he wanted us to chant back. I liked the Catholic service better.
Categories friend, Personal, religion

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