Happened across it this morning, aspergillum. Thinking of it as a holy sprinkler is perfectly appropriate.
And the censer, as I heard it, more properly thurible wafted the most wonderful incense, clinking as it swung on the chain. Both rituals appealed to me as a child. Wordless, both moved me.
Water and smoke, added to the ashes on the beginning Wednesday. I wonder they never threw dirt at us. Or, made a mud puddle, had to dip our feet or hands in.
Count up thy symbols, divide them as ye may.
4 comments:
as i've gotten older i've come to an uneasy truce with religious symbols. i get now that people need them, but i am as always bothered by the fact that for most people it's the symbols that become the meaning.
at the same time, the older i get, the less i understand the need for religion. it seems so…silly. the ornate long dresses, the funny hats, the various accoutrements, the standing up and sitting down, the rote responses. if there ever was a god who needed such b.s., then what kind of a god would s/he be? just as silly, in my opinion.
pc,
The belief loses me completely. But I rather like the rituals, they speak to me outside of belief, outside of words, directly into some part of my brain that is connected to earth, smoke, wind, water.
I seem to be the only one in my family that isn't disturbed by the incense during these important church services.
Phil,
I have a huge love of church incense. Always have. Wonderfully spicy aroma.
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