I don't go to any of them that have any religious connections. Not one.

My wife and I went to a lutefisk supper at a nearby Lutheran Church. She has Norwegian heritage and I'm Norwegian by marriage. I had to learn to eat lutefisk to keep the peace in her family. We also attend funerals. Too many funerals. Lots of "sure and certain" hope expressed at those.

I don't care who sponsors an event, really. If there's food there, or other nifty stuff, I don't mind. I just ignore the religious side of it all.

I had to look that one up, MineralMan. It sounds dreadful! This is from Wikipedia:

With enough butter, it fairly slides down the throat with little effort. I learned that a small piece of lutefisk, covered in melted butter, is soon gone from my plate, so I can turn to the peeled, boiled potatoes, meatballs in white sauce, and lefse to overcome the lingering taste and aroma. That qualifies as "eating lutefisk." In Norwegian cuisine, flour is a seasoning, so one need not be concerned about anything spicy finding its way onto the plate.

Incidentally, lutefisk is almost never eaten in Norway. It was emergency survival food, consumed in the depths of winter in the old days. How it became a traditional "delicacy" among Norwegian immigrants and their offspring is an unsolved mystery.

I'm not beyond making sacrifices to maintain my place in the family. Nope.

I've never had the pleasure myself, but I have seen it compared to haggis as a regional specialty of revulsion. I have tried haggis, and it's not so bad if you don't know what's in it.

The Pennsylvania Dutch may have Minnesota Norwegians beat, however, with scrapple. It's the parts of the pig previously thought to be inedible, but what the poorest could afford. One miserable reveler pulled out a long string from the pot and asked what it was. "The snout", he was informed, "we can't always chop it up properly.""

Being of Scottish extraction, I am familiar with haggis, too. I'm not put off by offal, and can actually enjoy a well-prepared haggis.

Fortunately, I've been spared the pleasures of scrapple. I will certainly try it if some is put on the plate in front of me, but I'm not that interested in seeking it out.

Norwegians also enjoy head cheese. I've even participated in making a batch of that. Also composed of various animal parts normally discarded, its jellied texture and flavor is something I can tolerate pretty well. A thick slice of homemade head cheese with a smear of brown mustard on dark rye bread is not to be scoffed at.

when she came back with it she nearly threw it down on the table, anxious to get it out of her hands. There is at least one Scottish enclave in New Jersey that has haggis makers-- it's not bad there, and a little more to the American taste.

It turns out that amongst the Scots, they talk about haggis a lot, joke about it a lot, and make tons of the stuff for the holidays, but nobody actually eats it.

It's Scottish fruitcake.

I'm an adventurous eater, so I've sampled a lot of ethnic "delicacies" during my life. A lot of those traditional foods had their origins in times of poverty. Haggis, for example, was designed to use up the parts of an animal people didn't care for, because wasting edible food was unthinkable in hard times. Same thing for lutefisk, which could survive any weather conditions and could be eaten in the dead of winter when no other food was available.

That it's often only eaten by emigrants from the old homeland, but almost never by those who are still there, is telling. It's a nostalgic reminder of survival in hard times. That seems to be a standard theme for such foods.

As a curiosity seeker, I will devour whatever is put in front of me, pretty much, as long as someone else is also eating it. I may not find it delectable, but I'll try it, if it's edible.

I'd rather give my satirical and editorial writing away. Besides, when I post on the Internet, I don't have to deal with pesky editors.

I get paid to write website content. I write only entire websites, except for established clients. That works for me, so I work for them. They pay me.

What will they do. What WILL they do?

The Catholics thought they were a universal church even when they were confined to one of the most backward parts of Eurasia.

Here in the Twin Cities of Minnesota, parishes are consolidating and some churches are shutting down and the property is going on the market. Worse, it's getting harder and harder to find priests to serve. Not enough young men are "hearing the call." I went to a funeral about a year ago in a local church here. The priest spoke with an accent that sounded to me like a Michoacan accent. Priests from other countries are being imported into the United States to help fill the gap. Father Monahan, it seems, is no longer available.

Frankly, I don't think that's reversible.

Every time I espy a vacant church, I see a potential theater.
They usually have the beginning of a stage, lots of seating, plenty of overhead space for a lighting grid, a sound system (Often rudimentary.) and good acoustics. Huge basements are normal and really useful.
I still fondly recall working on a very "Adult" production of The Bacchae in such a venue. It seemed appropriate.

The open sanctuary also makes a good gallery space or restaurant. I've seen a couple of them converted into homes, with an open layout and loft spaces. On the downside, they can be tough to heat and cool.

They tend to sell for much less than similar structures with t h e same space, too.

when they end up living in a country that is essentially non Christian when raised in an exclusively Christian internment

Say someone from a small town that ends up in China for an extended period

Back in the Presbyterian church I attended as a child and through high school, we'd have some missionary show up two or three times a year and regale us with stories, accompanied by a slide show. This was long before there were video cameras that could be used in remote places. The goal, of course, was to generate donations for their worthy works of global evangelism.

Most of those missionaries were decidedly odd sorts. Occasionally, they'd show up with their wives and children, too. Also odd ducks, in most cases. Later in my life, I met a young woman who had been one of those missionary children in earlier years. She was a very nice person, but quite socially inept. We became friends, and she told me stories of her childhood in some poverty-stricken corner of East Africa. In exchange, I helped her learn how to relate better to Americans of her age. A romantic relationship ensued, but didn't thrive. I haven't heard from her in a couple of decades.

She wanted to know if I still went to those "evil" places - Temples, Mosques, ect. I told her yes, then asked her if she had ever been to any religious service other than Christian - Her reply "Oh yes, Baptist, Catholic, even Episcopalian. But I asked for forgiveness and won't do that again".

As a young person, I attended a Presbyterian church, which was located right across the street from a Roman Catholic Church. It wasn't until I was in high school that I ever ventured into that Catholic church, which still used the Latin liturgy. Such visits were frowned upon by my church, of course, but the Catholic kids were actually forbidden from entering our Presbyterian church by their priest.

Ecumenicism was not to appear until I was an adult, and by then I no longer cared.

It's either their god, or no god. They're completely oblivious to all those thousands of alternative deities.

fable.