shanmonster | I Want to Go to Church

Today I heard about a Passion play being put on by a local church. Apparently, this particular church puts a huge amount of work into their yearly spectacle, and people come from all over Canada and the United States to see it. Seeing as how I've never seen a Passion play, and seeing how the crucifixion scene looks real, Jesus' apotheosis takes place with the help of a "helicopter engine", and the fact that there will be real live chickens, how can I pass up this opportunity? I might be an antichrist, but I know the Bible is filled with the most interesting stories! I guess I'll be buying my tickets (f00's grudgingly accompanying me) on Thursday.

Jehovah's Witnesses have Bible-themed plays. They're called "dramas", and the cast is comprised of the most popular members of various JW congregations. There are two sorts of dramas: modern and Biblical. The modern ones are usually boring. The Biblical ones are much more interesting because the actors dress up in bathrobes with towels on their heads in an attempt to look like authentic Israelites. Sometimes miracles are re-enacted. My favourite drama ever was the one with Moses petitioning to have the Israelites set free, and then sitting back and watching smugly while Jehovah zotted Pharoah and the Egyptians again and again.

Watching a drama is rather like watching a Milli Vanilli concert. All of the dialogue and sound effects are pre-recorded, perhaps in an effort to stave off unbecoming adlibs. It was always fun to watch the cast when the record skipped.

I always wanted to be in one of these dramas, and the fact I was never even considered for a part was a source of bitterness and disappointment. My Dad wasn't high enough in the JW echelons to guarantee my place in a drama, and my family was always regarded with suspicion since we were always the equivalent of the new kids. We moved too much to become properly assimilated with any Kingdom Hall.

I still think it would have been cool to have been in one of the dramas at an international assembly. It certainly would have been my largest audience, ever. Although I have danced for about 1,000 people before, I've never done any sort of performance for an audience that filled Montreal's Olympic stadium. I still remember that monster assembly. I believe it may have been the last time Brother Raymond Franz gave a major talk. Franz is a former Governing Body member (JW equivalent of the Pope), and has since been given the boot, ostensibly for eating lunch with a disfellowshipped friend.

My recollections of that assembly are few and scattered. It was about twenty five years ago or even more, after all. I do remember staying in Camper City, a quick-rise campground erected on an old railyard. Camper City was no misnomer, either. If I remember correctly, the population of this campground met the requirements for a city.

I remember my sister being completely overwhelmed by the throngs of people. We were standing up on a balcony in the stadium when she had a complete panic attack. She was desperately afraid I was going to fall over the guard rail, and we had to go back to the campground. Fortunately (?), the talks were being broadcast at the campground, so Mom didn't have to miss out on any of the "spiritual feast".

I also remember walking through the botanic gardens and seeing a man with a huge moustache kissing a woman in short shorts and a tube top. They were drenching one another with saliva, and their tongues were so busy, it almost seemed as though there were too many of them. Mom hurried us along past the lascivious pair.

I also remember seeing people picketing the assembly. Mom and Dad wouldn't let me look at their signs, telling us these people were apostates and therefore controlled by Satan. The apostates hollered and marched, and I fearfully and proudly looked away from them as I walked.

There was one more assembly in Montreal that I attended. This one was held during the UN's Year of Peace. The JWs were positive this heralded the imminent onset of Armageddon, but it was just another close call. The most exciting thing that I remember happening was when I volunteered to help run the camp store. I sold some women boxes of tampons, and this gave me a freakish thrill. You see, Mom had me convinced that tampons were practically tools of the Devil. They were inappropriate for virgins, and were pretty much guaranteed to kill anyone who used them with Toxic Shock Syndrome. I felt guilty at selling these death-dealing devices to women, but at the same time, figured that if they were being sold by JWs to JWs, then they couldn't really be so bad, could they?

I think this may have been the last humongous JW assemblage. Now, assemblies are held much closer to home, and are much smaller, much to the desperate mate-seeking JW's chagrin. The age of the rock concert-sized assembly is over.