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I always wondered why we made donations in church. If god was the creator of everything and had the power to create more why were we sending him our money. I had no idea that the donations actually paid for the church itself. I thought that the money was given to god by the priests.
As a child I believed that God created the world, and Jesus painted it. Hehe, as an adult, it's almost correct! ;)
When I was little and was getting my first communion, they told me Jesus was in the tabernacle (the thing behind the altar where they keep the hoast) little did I know they ment the host was in it, for years I thought Jesus was alive and they were hiding him in there.
I was in a somewhat cool western civ class at a large kansas university. I had recently been converted from catholicism to some sort of wishshy- washshy christian, then a sort of wishshy-washsy agnosticism, The western civ paper that was to be written was on the quran (kuran) whatever. The thesis of the paper was something to the effect of The Quran: The Most Feminist Thing Written To Date 633 (or so) AD. It was fairly easygoing seriously it seems more feminist than any ayatollah will tell you. In my research though one or more of the points I went to the creation story. It is Adam ans Eve. Not really exactly how i once heard it. No rib to prove why man is better than woman. Noah was a lie. Adam and Eve were monkeys and named uhg and tiffni. Moses and Abraham and Jesus and Buddha and Shiva and all of them were maybe smart, probably a little pretentious, and definitely not gods or related to any gods or in contact with any gods. It started to sink in the rib thing was a lie like santa and all of it. After less than 1 minute of research I found out at the age of 20 that women and men have the same amount of ribs.
I used to believe that God used the wind to talk to me: if the wind was blowing on me He was approving of what I was thinking, and a sudden lull in the wind was His signal for me to abandon whatever I was thinking about and start something new. At some point I stopped believing, but I'll probably never get rid of the "oh no" reflex that I get whenever I'm out walking and the wind dies down.
In Romans 3:15 it says "[sinners'] feet are quick to shed blood". I assumed that this meant that if I had been sinful lately and I cut myself, I would bleed more than if I had a clean soul. That was a long time ago, and I'm 26 years old now, but I've never really got rid of the superstition. When I got a sunburn in Florida five years ago my instinctive reaction was that it was divine punishment since I'm usually pretty resistant to sunburn.
When I was about 4 years old, I used to believe that when the preacher pounded his fist on the pulpit it was because someone was talking in church. My brother told me when I talked in church the preacher would get mad an pound his fist on the pulpit. I believed him.
I used to believe that when the choir would sing loudly without music that angels would come down from the sky singing with the choir and take us all away to Heaven. I would get really scared when they did this because I wasn't baptized yet and I knew they would leave me behind.
I used to believe that if you wore jeans to church, God would strike you down with lightening (I still get a little nervous and pause for a second when I walk through the chuch door wearing jeans...)
At my old church, there was a cross behind where the preist stood that had Jesus on it. One day, my mom, dad, and brother were going to be baptized (I wasn't because I had an ear infection). Well, we were standing there, and my Grandpa was next to me. I asked how they did it, and he said they took Jesus off the cross, and nailed people to it. Then, they lowered it into the water. From the on, I was afraid to watch when people were baptized, so I beleived him until i was about 11.
i use to believe that all people who wear glasses were catholic....dont even ask me why???
when i was little i thought god changed my name the first day i went to church
When I was little, a friend of the family took me to her Catholic church with her. Never having seen a crucifix before (Jewish here), I thought it was real. Not real, as it 'the statue actually exists for you to look at' but real as in 'it is what it appears to be and it's happening right now' real. I couldn't figure out why someone was suffering horribly and no one was doing anything but celebrating a mass of something.
Then came communion. 'This is my body,' or something like that was said. I asked the family friend if who was talking and she said that it was from Jesus, the person in the front of the room. I thought that the guy in black was cutting parts off from the feet and feeding it to everyone. I asked the family friend if it was because Jesus had been naughty. 'No, he was very, very good' was the response.
Uhhh...'Am I a bad girl?' I asked. 'No, you are a very good girl.'
A few seconds passed while I mulled it over. I ended up screaming bloody murder and ran out of there so fast I almost fell into the thing with the holy water in it.
For years I thought that Catholic was pronounced Cath-OLL-ik. I thought that "Cathlic" was something else entirely.
Even today, when I see the word Catholic, my brain goes "Cath-OLL-ik".
I use to believe that whatever a burried in the dirt that God would take it to Heaven..and I always went back to the spot to see if it was gone. Ofcourse..it never was. But I'd lie and tell my friends it was anyway.. :P
when I was little my parents would still go to church every week and i would go with them so then when we had communion I was more than a little confusee witht the concept of the body and the blood of christ but i let it go as i was quite happy to get something to eat. Then shortly after I couldn't sleep 1 night and went down stairs to find my teenage brother waching a tv programme and he let me stay up and watch it 2. The tv programme happened to be on cults and the part that really stuck out to be was a section on cannabilism after which i quickly went to bed and cried myslelf to sleep. The next day I stayed in at break and told my teacher that my parents had made me join a cult and eat a person :) OOOhhh that was a strange call my parentss got from the school
One time while I was in church, I saw the priest go over to the deacon. He made the sign of the cross, and then the deacon did the same thing, then the priest...blessed the deacon, I guess (where he takes his hand and just kinda...moves it in the shape of a cross). Well, I thought it was a secret handshake.
When I was in first grade at St. Mary's Catholic School, we were preparing to make our First Holy Communion. During the many practices, the Nuns would give us a chocolate Necco Wafer (candy) to represent the Host. After the big day finally arrived and the ceremony was over, my family asked me how I felt now that I had received the Lord. I was upset and couldn't understand why he wasn't chocolate!
I used to think that the offerings in church were teleported directly up to heaven; I pictured the gold offering plates floating up into the sky.
my grandfather told me that protestants historically wore the color orange - so one day when I was wearing an orange shirt - I told my parents that I was just like the prostitutes.