Baptism Anniversary

Yesterday was the 12th anniversary of The Child's baptism. Growing up in an evangelical Protestant home, infant baptism was pretty much the last holdout when I "went over to Rome". I finally came around but partly because I understood that it is the obligation of the parents to make the sacrament come alive for their children. One way to do that is to gather every year and tell the story.

We have a little prayer, The Child picks the menu (shepherd's pie). We bring out her beautiful baptismal gown, the one hand-made by her Protestant Nana. There are presents. The grownups share their remembrances from that day. Some of the bits are repeated year to year but there is always something new as well. Last night was no different. However, since this is my blog, here are the bits that always stand out for me:

Lent was early in 1994 and the Cathedral was going to be closing for renovations right after Easter. We were going to be worshipping across the street in the high school gym for the next year or so. Baptisms, except in very rare and urgent situations, are not performed in Lent. So we had a choice. We could have her baptized right away, have her baptized in a gym or we could wait until we were back in the Cathedral. The gym part was easy. The sacrament would be just as valid performed in a space full of championship banners and bleachers but we wanted The Child baptized in the same place where I'd been confirmed and we'd been married. We didn't want to wait until she was a toddler, not because she'd go to hell, but because the logistics of a squirmy toddler vs a sleeping baby were less attractive. So it happened that she was the last child baptized in the "old" Cathedral (and her Papa was one of the first adults baptized in the renovated version. That's a little Cathedral trivia for you).

Then, for a variety of logistical reasons it turned out that all the other families who were scheduled with us changed their plans. So, possibly pre-figuring her destiny, The Child was baptized, at 10 days old, with all the pomp and pagentry we papists are so fond of and she had it all to herself. One of the coolest things to me was that Father used her name in all the prayers and blessings, as opposed to the "these children" sort of thing he'd have said otherwise. After she was baptized the choir sang a gorgeous "Alleluia" and Father invited the congregants to welcome the newest member. The Child had slept through the entire liturgy but when she heard that applause her little eyes flew open and she looked around. I smiled at her and told her everything was fine and she settled back down to sleep, the smug little smile of one adored on her face.

I have encountered a few people who think we're asking for trouble by "forcing" our religion on our child. I get that. I was away from any sort of organized religion for nearly 20 years. There aren't any guarantees that she's going to remain Catholic or even, I suppose, Christian. But this is the family she got. We're Catholic, and with all it's "what about the Borgias" history, we love it. It's not perfect but happily neither are we. The Child is also informed by all the cooking, movie-watching and politics around her. The Spouse talks to her about making films, I talk to her about writing. You could argue that we are "forcing" her to enjoy dinner parties and vote blue but I figure that our job is to inform and influence her. At least while we can. What she does with it will ultimately be up to her. If she's going to rebel she might as well have something really excellent to rebel against. I'll love her anyway. Even if she votes...no, I can't say it. But I would still love her. My parents still love me.