Shrive , Shrove , Shriven....... Like........ Drive , Drove , Driven !!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Foreword : What follows is neither a sermon nor a secret ploy to convert anyone to any religious belief system whatsoever. I have enough problems keeping myself on the straight and narrow without self - righteously browbeating  or cudgelling others into my way of thinking and therefore , along the blissful road to salvation. This is but a simple explanatory footnote to my experience with the "archaic "verb... shrive , shrove , shriven...  in my youth , growing up in a typical Irish Catholic family setting .... neither overly severe and certainly not fanatical !!

Our wee community of Pokiok , some two miles upriver from Saint John , was comprised of roughly speaking.... maybe 40 family units the vast majority of whom were of Protestant denomination.... except for us " Micks " or "Mickies " as we were often referred to back then .... which was usually a "fighting word " when said to our facess ! Some would allude openly to our priests as "the black crows on the hill " ( Saint Peter's Church was built on a hill ) and call the church itself "Mickies' Tavern " because the priest used wine during Mass. However , such scurrilous words were the doings of the malevolent few ! In general we got along fine with all our neighours...... at least as well as any of the others did among themselves in our little world.

Tommy McDonald was my childhood playmate and buddy. Whenever asked , his parents would say they were Protestants but did not belong to any specific church. One day we were playing behind our house when  a humdinger of a thunder and lightning storm broke loose on Pokiok.... so we ran for cover as the torrential rains beat down around us. Once safely inside out of the downpour I noticed my Dad battening down the hatches as he called it.... closing the windows ..... while my Mom and Grandmother were making the rounds of the house .. upstairs and downstairs.... carrying jars of holy water in the left hand and each wielding  palm branches in the right hand .... dipping and sprinkling everything in sight as they scurried around. To me this was normal procedure so I hardly paid any attention to what was going on at all ... whereas Tommy was in pure shock. He told me in later years he thought it might have been some form of witchcraft. All this so as to give you some idea of what kind of setting I grew up in. And now on to the gist of today's blog.  

Roughly one week before Ash Wednesday ( tomorrow ) we began Shrovetide........ a period of intense self-scrutiny followed by confession to a priest so as to begin Lent with a pure soul. So today for Catholics is called Shrove Tuesday , recalling its original meanng . Shrovetide ends theoretically at midnight tonight. As kids growing up we often joked around saying to one  another , "You gonna get shriven today ?" knowing full well that it really meant going to confession..... and not having pancakes for supper !  We put shrive/shrove/shriven in the same basket as other  "old " words such as ye , thou , thine , thy , thou art , thou shallst , he cometh , Whitsun and Whitsuntide , etc...... but we knew them and used them even though "archaic " .... mainly for fun though among ourselves.. 

P.S. In the above picture I have recreated the scenaro for Extreme Unction or Last Rites when administered  at home. This "paraphernalia " or sacred dowry was brought over from Ireland and has been handed down to me along with the old " doomsday box ".

P.S.2 I have been remiss in visiting my friends' blogs of late and shall be making the rounds tonight and tomorrow so please forgive me.