The last stop on Midwest-Con 2004 was Samantha’s christening in St. Louis. In a nice piece of life’s little symmetries (sounds like a line of Hallmark cards, eh?), the ceremony was conducted by Father Dave Flemming, the priest who not only married me and Geralyn back in ’97, but also conducted Ger’s own christening back in ’71. He even brought in the actual opening prayer and documents he had used back then. Also in attendance were Sam’s new Godfather (Gary) and Godmother (my sister Shawn).
Not being Catholic, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I was raised Southern Baptist (No dancing! No popular music! No alcohol! No fun!), where baptism was the hinge upon which one’s faith swiveled. Actually, that’s not true. It’s the decision to come forward of your own accord and ask to be baptized that’s the hinge. The ceremony is just a chance for you to wear rubber overalls under a robe and get dunked in tepid water while the rest of the congregation watches. It’s the decision that counts. That’s why baptizing a baby seemed a little odd. Babies have no free will. They can’t decide whether or not to poop, much less decide to profess faith in an ineffable deity.
But it turns out that Catholics have something for that later on in life (the profession of faith thing, not the pooping, though I’m prepared for anything at this point), and the christening, like most ceremonies, is mostly ceremonial. It’s a blessing upon the child and her parents. A large part of it is also for the godparents, who promise to make sure the kid is raised Catholic should Ger and I die in slow motion while saving the Earth from a meteor the size of Texas.
I also knew that this ceremony was important to Geralyn and the rest of her family, so it was important to me. And that’s enough. Here’s a few pictures:
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Oh, and here’s a fun fact: The water used to baptize Sammie was taken from the Jordan River, the same river where Jesus was baptized around 2,000 years ago. At least it was mixed in with the water we used. A woman involved in the christening scheduled before ours said that she had traveled to the river and collected the water to use in her ceremony, and that we were welcome to use it. Amusingly, my dad’s initial reaction when I told this tale was “I hope you washed her head off afterwards!” Apparently, the Jordan River is filthy and full of disease these days. So I’m kind of torn. Sam has yet to come down with diphtheria, nor has she founded a new religion that reshaped the world, so I’m guessing it didn’t really matter one way or the other.
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