: 29 March 2002 :

Seasonal bad joke:
Jesus walks into reception at a hotel, drops a hammer and a handful of nails on the desk, and says, “Put me up for the night.”

It’s Good Friday today. Yeah, that’s right. After all those entries about Passover I've been reading, it’s time for some good old Lapsed Catholic action. (I’d like it to be stated here that (a) that was a joke, and (b) the entries I’ve read have been well written and also pretty informative, since I’d forgotten all the stuff I got taught in RE when I was thirteen).

Anyway, I’m thinking I should go to church today – it had been my intention to go every Sunday throughout Lent, because although I've stopped practising it’d be quite good to remind myself what it’s like. In the two and a half years I’ve lived in Oxford I haven’t yet been to St Aloysius’ (pronounced “Al O’Wicious”), even though it’s just down the road. Normally I’m at home for Easter so I go to church there, but this year I didn’t even make it to St Aloysius’ for Palm Sunday. Palm Sunday is always good fun. (That may sound a bit flippant, but it was good fun back in Jesus’ time too. What they don't usually tell you is that after Jesus got off the donkey, all the children took it in turns to have a ride. Jerusalem must have looked like Blackpool Beach that day.)

On Palm Sunday there’s the little origami crosses made out of palm fronds that I used to be able to make and can’t any more, and the flicking of holy water over the congregation that makes everyone flinch even though they’re trying not to because it seems disrespectful.

Anyway, I should try and go today for Good Friday. No meat today, though fish is allowed (if I was really hardcore I’d be fasting completely). I’ll see when the evening service is. I should get a haircut and a shower sometime today so I can appear spick and span before the Lord.

And I’ll definitely be going on Sunday, because I’ll be back in Cirencester. Every year, on one side of the altar steps, there's this nifty little scale model of the hill with the crosses and the cave with the stone rolled away, made with little sticks and stones and grass and florist’s block. Then we’re going to London to see my grandparents (my mum’s parents) and assorted family. Should be good.
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Bollocks! Just remembered I told Ben I’d go to the dog-track today. I’m fairly sure I’d not earn myself any Heaven Points by going on Good Friday, even if I didn’t bet (which I wasn’t planning to, unless there was a dog with a really persuasive name like “C’mon, Sucker, You Can’t Lose” or “Jesus Christ Would Want You To Back This Dog” or something). I’ll have to postpone my visit until another time.