I don't much like Easter.
I guess it goes back to when I was a tinlid.
I used to go to church......and take along my brothers too.
We went to the Wesley Methodist Church, which used to be in Spring Gardens.
I didn't have a religious bent, but it was more a social occasion....and I reckon a bit of peace and quiet for my Mum and Dad.
If you were a member of the church you used to go to Pantomimes and an organised party at Christmas....and a trip to the seaside in the summer........OK, you were usually the guests of another church and they gave you your humble tea......meat paste/fish paste sandwiches, jelly and iced buns, all washed down with weak Kia-ora.
Am I stirring any memories here?
I also used to go to Mass with my mother who was a catholic convert(oh, goodness....how that came about is a long story).
So Sundays and holy days were fully accounted for.
My dislike of Easter goes back to being told (when I was knee high to midge) that Jesus died on the cross for my sins....... I used to sit there in awe and try to work out what I had done that was so bad...... that made them crucify Jesus for me.
Yes, I had answered my mother back, and yes I had drunk some of the vinegar from the refilled bottle and filled it up at the horse trough..... this had made my mother say that she wasn't getting her vinegar From Mayors chip shop any more because mrs mayor was watering it down to make more money.
Yes, I has pinched chips from under the paper when I had been sent with the dish for a 'pudding and a mixture'.
I was guilty too of sometimes being nasty to my brothers......but they were far nastier to me......they put slugs in my bed, they put moths in my bedroom.......they let me eat an ordinary twig saying it was liquorice root......and when I said I couldn't taste anything they said I hadn't got to the liquorice bit yet.
So there I was in church....hearing that Jesus had died because of me.....it always made me feel very very sad, and very bad too.
The story of the resurrection was trumpeted joyfully, but I couldn't share the joy as I was still mulling over the death.......and my part in it.
As I got older I realised that it wasn't my sins, but the sins of the world....but by this time the melancholia over Easter was ingrained.......and I still carry it.
No I don't like Easter.....despite the choc fest.
I guess it goes back to when I was a tinlid.
I used to go to church......and take along my brothers too.
We went to the Wesley Methodist Church, which used to be in Spring Gardens.
I didn't have a religious bent, but it was more a social occasion....and I reckon a bit of peace and quiet for my Mum and Dad.
If you were a member of the church you used to go to Pantomimes and an organised party at Christmas....and a trip to the seaside in the summer........OK, you were usually the guests of another church and they gave you your humble tea......meat paste/fish paste sandwiches, jelly and iced buns, all washed down with weak Kia-ora.
Am I stirring any memories here?
I also used to go to Mass with my mother who was a catholic convert(oh, goodness....how that came about is a long story).
So Sundays and holy days were fully accounted for.
My dislike of Easter goes back to being told (when I was knee high to midge) that Jesus died on the cross for my sins....... I used to sit there in awe and try to work out what I had done that was so bad...... that made them crucify Jesus for me.
Yes, I had answered my mother back, and yes I had drunk some of the vinegar from the refilled bottle and filled it up at the horse trough..... this had made my mother say that she wasn't getting her vinegar From Mayors chip shop any more because mrs mayor was watering it down to make more money.
Yes, I has pinched chips from under the paper when I had been sent with the dish for a 'pudding and a mixture'.
I was guilty too of sometimes being nasty to my brothers......but they were far nastier to me......they put slugs in my bed, they put moths in my bedroom.......they let me eat an ordinary twig saying it was liquorice root......and when I said I couldn't taste anything they said I hadn't got to the liquorice bit yet.
So there I was in church....hearing that Jesus had died because of me.....it always made me feel very very sad, and very bad too.
The story of the resurrection was trumpeted joyfully, but I couldn't share the joy as I was still mulling over the death.......and my part in it.
As I got older I realised that it wasn't my sins, but the sins of the world....but by this time the melancholia over Easter was ingrained.......and I still carry it.
No I don't like Easter.....despite the choc fest.
I've never thought much about Easter, except as a Bank Holiday, since I grew up. I always liked Easter Sunday - chocolate eggs - but Good Friday meant just boring church, little trainee heathen that I was. 