In the spirit of "writing what you know", which seems to be the most popular thing I write about, I'll write about my experiences of spring in a religious cult.
We had a few Jewish-inspired holidays - passover, days of unleavened bread, etc.
Passover was celebrated (and I use that word loosely) as a very solemn occasion only for adults. To this day I have no idea what they did there - my parents would tell me that it was like a funeral. They'd go in, and apparently there was some kind of footwashing, then they'd spout a few scriptures and come home.
The night before passover was always strange, for some reason. There would be a lot of car accidents, or a strong thunderstorm... my parents would tell me it was because Satan was angry that night. What a thing to tell a kid. I remember one passover we had a tornado. That was scary.
Then we'd have the First Day of Unleavened Bread. Before this seven day "festival" they had to clean the house of all leaven - all bread, etc. They were so zealous that they literally tried to get every single scrap - they took the stove apart, threw out the toaster...
The first day was two services of two hours each, which consisted of sitting in the Great Hall of the Toledo Masonic Auditorium, and listening to a pretentious putz talk himself out. This was hard for a kid of five or six. You had to be completely and totally quiet. Between services, though, we'd go out to eat. That was kind of the highlight of the day, even though we had to do it in suits and ties. I remember always telling the waitresses that we didn't want buns. The restaurants near the Auditorium started to think there was something wrong with them, because everyone who went there from that cult refused the buns. Then another boring, drawn out service, then we'd maybe go out to eat again, and go home.
There were offerings. They always encouraged us to "give until it hurt", basically - promising rewards for our generosity that never came. They'd pass out the envelopes, all the while alternating between the carrot and the stick at the pulpit, then collect the envelopes. They'd count the money at lunch, and then tell us how well we did in the second service. It was kind of shameful.
But there was "good" music. We put together a choir out of the congregation, and though there were a few that couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, it was kind of fun to participate in later years. That was why I went into music ultimately, because of those early experiences. Well, one reason, anyway. The biggest problem was that the guy who was the worst at carrying a tune was a bass, so we would diverge wildly off key quite a bit.
The sermons were very dry - consisted of reading scriptures and drawing incomprehensible conclusions. Looking back, I'm glad they were usually incomprehensible, because when they weren't they were downright frightening. I can't remember what they taught the days of unleavened bread stood for, but it wasn't fun. Wait till I get to the Feast of Trumpets this autumn.
Then we'd have seven days of eating no leavened bread. That made lunchtime at school difficult - we'd have to bring unleavened bread, and that of course brought a lot of curiosity and teasing.
The last day was another four hours of sermons, patterned after the first. Except after sundown we went to dinner and pigged out on rolls and bread.
The leaven was supposed to symbolize our sin, so it was quite interesting that we went right for it the minute we were allowed.
Everything was about being set apart - doing things differently - never doing things quite like anyone else did. Go to services when no one else does, wear suits and ties where no one else is, eat unleavened bread where no one else does. Sometimes I think I took these lessons with me - which is why I tend to go off on my own more often than not.
There are reasons I don't like religion, and I just shared one with you. Hope you like.
I liked spring, though, regardless. I liked the grass growing, and the smell of trees and flowers, and the melting snow. I liked the soft, puffy clouds and the birds chirping. It's too bad religion had to pollute that, like it did everything else.