Baptism Of Fire

, , , , | Related | November 2, 2018

My husband and I are getting ourselves and our son ready to go to our nephew’s baptism. We tell our three-year-old, who has a language and social delay, that we are going to a place where we need to be quiet and use a calm voice while there. Our son looks at us and smiles, before screaming at the top of his lungs for four minutes.

While in the car, we reiterate the quiet and calm voice thing a few times, with somewhat better results. When we get to the church, our son is the first kid inside. The priest looks at him and tells him, “We walk in church.” Our son looks at him and bolts down the aisle, screaming happily.

As the nephew being baptised is on my husband’s side of the family, I quickly exit the church with my apparent demon-spawn in tow, and we spend the entire baptism playing on the playground nearby.

The Blood Of Jesus: Now In Cartons!

, , , , , | Related | October 25, 2018

(I grew up in a Catholic family, and while I don’t attend church as regularly anymore, I do still enjoy a good Bible study, worship service, or chance to do charitable work. My parents and I also tend to make jokes in serious situations. My cousin is making her confirmation, and my father is her sponsor, so my mom and I are sitting on the other side of the pew. During the homily, the monsignor mentions that after mass the newly-confirmed will go next door to receive their certificates and a gift. I whisper to my mom, wondering what the gift is.)

Me: “Do you think it’s a Bible?”

Mom: “Could be. Or a rosary.”

Me: “Or champagne. Congrats, you got confirmed!”

Mom: “Yeahhhhh, no. The church isn’t going to do that.”

Me: “Or a nice bottle of red wine, so you can have the blood of Jesus anytime.”

Mom: *gasp* “What?”

Me: “Am I going to Hell?”

Mom: “We probably all are… Actually, you know what? That’s not up to us. Only God can judge you.”

Me: “But probably?”

Mom: “Yeah, probably.”

This Child Is Going Places

, , | Friendly | October 19, 2018

(For Mothers’ Day, the children are doing a craft for a woman in their lives: homemade body scrub. It is just sugar, cooking oil, and a little food colouring, in a glass jar with a bit of waxed paper and a ribbon. Of course, the intent is that the children will take them home and present them to a mum, nana, auntie, etc. At the end of church, I have virtually the same conversation with three or four of my son’s friends, ages four to six.)

Child: “Look what I made!”

Me: “Oh, wow! That’s so cool! What are you going to do with it?”

Child: “EAT IT!”

The Church Is Hangry

, , , | Romantic | October 17, 2018

My boyfriend and I are a multilingual couple. My first language is English, his first language is French, and the first language that we started talking to each other in was Polish, in which we’re both semi-conversational. We’re both also studying each others’ first languages to improve our communication, and between our three languages have sort of calibrated our normal conversations.

We are planning on getting married next year, and our church requires a private interview with the priest in preparation for marriage. The priest doesn’t know either of us, and speaks English fairly well, but not perfectly, and doesn’t speak any French. Our Polish isn’t really up to the high-level vocabulary of the interviews, so it’s all in English. When we’re interviewing together, everything is fine.

When it’s my turn to interview alone, we have a few difficult moments where the priest phrases a question in a weird way or pronounces a word such that I have to ask for him to repeat it a few times for me to understand, such as, “Are you agree with the church teaching about XYZ?” But overall, it’s okay. As we end the interview, I tell the priest that my boyfriend might have a bit of difficulty understanding him if he speaks very quickly, and the priest says he’s realized that and promises to speak slowly.

I sit outside the office and wait for my boyfriend’s interview to be over. After about ten minutes, the priest opens the office door and asks me if I know another word for “permanent” in French. I tell him no, but offer my phone for Google translating. He shuts the door and the interview continues for a while.

When it’s over, my boyfriend explains that the difficulty was that he heard the question as, “Are you angry with the church teaching about marriage being permanent?”

He replied, “No.”

It took a fair amount of repetition for the priest to clear that particular question up, and I learned that my boyfriend has a lot of difficulty hearing the differences between, “agree,” “angry,” and, “hungry.”

Unfiltered Story #122762

, , | Unfiltered | October 7, 2018

So, the local community church serves a free dinner on the last Friday of the month. My family goes to it. I was lucky enough to have off that evening from work, so I joined them. This legit happened:

Me-*leaving the church and entering the parking lot*

I see an elderly man walking up the parking lot.

Man-*mumbles something that I can’t make out because of the distance*

Me-“I’m sorry sir, what was it that you said?” (Mind you, I’m using my work voice which is very quiet and sweet)

Man-“Is. The. Free. Dinner. Still. Going. On? Were you able to understand me that time or do you need me to translate it in another language for you?!”

Me-“yes. The dinner is still going on for another 10 minutes. Right in those doors. And I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t quite make out what you were saying.”

Man-“I can translate it, you know. Make you understand better. I do know French”

Me-“um….okay? Enjoy your dinner”

Needless to say, I walked away feeling very confused about the whole thing. And also the attitude he had in his voice. As I walked away, I secretly hoped that the kitchen had closed and refused him service.

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