I can't remember what I had for breakfast yesterday...
Background first:
I went to an all-boys private Anglican boarding school. Every Sunday night we had chapel. If you didn't go to chapel (where they took a rollcall) you wouldn't be allowed into the dining hall straight afterwards - so no dinner for you!
We had those books of Common Prayer for following the liturgy & after 3 years of doing the responses (so I didn't have to have 2 minute noodles for Sunday dinner) I reckoned I could do it in my sleep. At this point I should emphasize that I don't believe in the flying spaghetti monster in the sky and his Jeebus H. Christ sidekick & never will.
FFWD Many, many years.
My best friend topped himself/committed sewerage pipes etc. about 16 years ago. In an effort to find some solace (on the day that I had been to see his body @ the morgue) I went to St. Georges Cathedral, spoke to the priest who then took me thru the service to acknowledge them.
I could remember the sequence word for fucking word...
Peace Be With you.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Fri 2 Sep 2011, 10:40, 2 replies)

And you
managed to scrub the memories of the God Squad touching you inappropriately too, they'd consider you a success if you kept giving them cash you know.
(Rsoles, Fri 2 Sep 2011, 12:23, closed)

Nothing inappropriate from the happy-clapping members of my school.
& I was the 1 who convinced a born-again workmate that tithing was his "church" ripping him off. Any church that wants to see your payslip is dodgy.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Sat 3 Sep 2011, 7:12, closed)