JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I WAS OUT .......

..... THEY PULL ME BACK IN

Or so Robert would have me believe.

Robert who goes by the blog title Robert The Sinner, in his blog posts tells us that his god is forgiving, loves everyone including sinners and would gladly welcome lapsed catholics and atheists into the fold - as long as they repented their sins. Well, there's always a catch isn't there. 

I guess that Robert can say or believe in anything he likes since the whole god thing is nonsense about a mythical being. Embellish hell out of it the way the Norsefolk, Hindus, Greeks, Romans and Egyptians did when making up stories about their gods.

When I say "they pulled me back in" above I was exaggerating a bit. When in Wellington recently I went voluntarily into St Mary of the Angels in Boulcott street.

St Mary of the Angels was once my local church when I was a baby. I was baptised there as my parents, when they were building our house in Vogeltown lived in an old wooden flat (long since gone) on the corner of Courtenay Place and Taranaki Street.

This was in the early 1950s and St Mary of the Angels was a fairly old church even then as you can see from the dedication plaque. It was built in MCMXIX.*

I remember attending weddings of at least four aunts at this church and my brother's wedding was held  there as well as later, his funeral.

My parents, from 1969 to 1983 lived in Taranaki street again (different building) and I'm sure that mum would have made St Mary of the Angels her local once again.

The reason I went into this church again recently was because I was exploring Wellington as The Old Girl will be working and living there for a year. We have rented an apartment in Egmont street which, coincidentally is only a couple of buildings away from that original flat that the parents rented in 1950 to 1953 and very close to the one they lived in later. There you go.

As I was walking along Manners street I looked up to see the church and just had to go in. I like church architecture (the old ones not those soulless and utilitarian new ones) and see churches as places of sanctuary and peace.  SEE HERE  

I went in intending to have a little wander about but there was a mass going on. Some old joker was droning away in a pulpit reading some endless tract. I think it was a gospel. In old, high ceilinged churches voices have an interesting cadence ranging from the low and quiet to souring and louder high notes. The effect is always soporific and I noticed that a few of the congregation were nodding off and this was just after midday. I sat down on a pew at the back - on my own unlike that joker at Robert's church who just had to crowd in next to Robert even though there were plenty of seats elsewhere. What's that about? I sat for a few minutes before thinking "what the hell am I doing. I don't believe in this stuff" and got up to go.

At this point, if Robert was correct that there is a god who wanted me back in the fold he/she/it should have shown himself/herself/itself. A little revelation wouldn't have gone amiss not to mention a bit of a wrestle between god and the devil over mastery of my soul.

Satan: "Look. He's right there. If you don't want him I'll take him"

Nothing happened so I left.

At least good old St Patrick's College had the good grace to fall down after I left the church and renounced its teachings.

* For those who weren't in the 'P' classes at St. Patrick's College, MCMXIX is latin for 1919.