This is both funny & interesting. I've been to several funerals & I don't remember much about any of them, except one. A friend who was the treasurer of an organization that Mrs. coldH2O was the president of, came to our house regularly - get checks signed, discuss problems, etc. The kid got to know R. quite well. When he died, we all went to the funeral & since we were figuratively in Rome, the kid & I sat up next to the casket, closed I might add, & Mrs. coldH2O was back in the kitchen with the other ladies. As the minister was going on & on about God & how we need to give ourselves over to him, etc, etc., the kid blurts out - "Where's R.?" I point to the casket & she nods, but is clearly not satisfied. She wants to know about R. & in this particular version of religion, nobody cares about R. anymore, he & God are deciding, apparently, what the outcome of his life will be. It's B.S. Here's Doghouse Riley:
I don't think I bash Christians too often, mostly because I know some good and smart people who belong to that club, and I try to keep that in mind when I hear the worst coming out of that quarter. But their funerals--if they're all like the sort of stoically boring Midwestern Protestant numbers I get invited to--could make me reconsider. It's not so much that the blandishments don't match the situation, although around ten-fifteen minutes in I always start to feel like I'm floating on a cloud of pure nonsense, like watching a version of Peewee's Playhouse that isn't meant to be funny. It's that the sales pitch, or what must be, from the opposite perspective, the constant need for reassurance never seems to stop. The fact that someone you loved is DEAD is a reason to believe in God's bountiful love as revealed by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The fact that the loss hurts like hell is a reason to believe in God's bountiful love as revealed by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The answer to those eternal questions that plague your mind at times like these is...well, you're ahead of me by now. I mean, I believe in Gravity, but if I fall off a ladder I want painkillers, not some friendly words about the scientific method.
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