Wet

We're wet here In the northeast; the rivers are overflowing, the ground sodden, the sky teeming. One's normally dry condition is impossible to maintain. All of which reminded me of last Sunday at the cathedral, where there were two baptisms.

Now, I have to preface the following remarks by saying that I have a problem with baptism in general. As a way of welcoming a brand new person, infant baptism is an understandable ritual in the life of a religious community. I just have serious problems with the way all religions mark one's "inside" or "outside" status through some ceremony and taking of vows which may be totally sincere and reasonable - even (if we really listen to the promises we're making) binding the person to a way of life that is inclusive rather than exclusive of others - but which serve much more often to divide those who share the ritual anointing from everyone else. And I have really serious problems with the idea that baptism "saves" one person as opposed to another who hasn't been baptized. I think that is absolutely ridiculous.

Be that as it may, baptisms tend to be a happy thing at the cathedral, partly because the woman priest who usually performs them just loves babies, and is incapable of making the event into a formal or repetitive ritual. On this particular day – la fête des mères, or Mother’s Day – the two families, both quite extended, filled the first two or three pews on each side of the sanctuary, and two white-robed babies were passed from arm to arm of various smiling relatives. As it turned out, it was quite a Montréal-esque occasion as well. When the priest went to the pulpit for the sermon, she began in French: one of the couples, whom she had married, was francophone, and the other anglophone, so the baptismal liturgy went back and forth between English and French in  typical Montréal style. One of the couples was also of mixed race, a fact that most people in the city don’t seem to even notice.

(The New Testament lesson for the morning was the story from the Book of Acts in which the disciple Philip comes upon a eunuch reading the Hebrew scriptures in his parked chariot; the eunuch invites Philip to climb up, and asks him to explain what he’s reading. The two ride along, discussing, and when the chariot passes by some water, the eunuch suggests that they stop so that Philip can baptize him. Afterwards, the eunuch goes “on his way rejoicing,” but Philip disappears, and finds himself deposited in a faraway town, where he goes on preaching and teaching.)

After the presentation of the two tiny candidates for baptism, the service moved from the main sanctuary of the cathedral to the eastern transept (better known as the baptistry) where the font stands in the middle of the floor. Members of the congregation joined the families and clergy around the font, as water was poured from a great height, with much flourish, into the font. The first baby, a little dark-haired girl of a few months, looked around quizzically and never uttered a peep as water was tipped from a scallop shell onto her head. The second baby started whimpering before her mother ever handed her to the priest, and the crescendo built into a microphone-shattering wail that had us all laughing.

Is baptism like marriage now in Québec – an outmoded ritual, considered unnecessary and old-fashioned – or do most people still bring their children into the church at least that once, in a nod to the faith many people say they still have but don’t necessarily practice? I wonder. I had never seen any of the members of those two families in church before, but they certainly knew what to do, and most of them got up later and went to receive communion, looking quite at home.

Comments

[Marja-Leena]

Sorry to hear about the extreme wet weather in the eastern US and Canada and I'm complaining of the heat here - 32C yesterday! May the sun shine soon for you!

Beth, I agree with you about the the issues of inclusivity/exclusivity and being "saved" if baptised - I grew up with this and even bowed to parental pressure in having our children baptised. It is a lovely ceremony, especially how you have described it.

[dale]

Lovely post, Beth.

I'm always puzzled by those surveys that show that, whatever it is, 90% of French people identify as Catholic and 10% do things like pray & go to confession, or go to church at all. (I'm making the numbers up here, but it's something like that.) Is "Catholic" more like an ethnic affiliation than like a faith, for these folks? Or just what do they mean by "being Catholic"? I feel like I have a reasonably good book-knowledge of Christianity, but I'm often baffled by its popular manifestations.

It's interesting, I never thought of Buddhist refuge vows as marking insiders and outsiders. I might have another picture of it in, say, Sri Lanka, though. Buddhists are such a small and powerless minority here that we're just quaint and adorable, like chihuahuas -- no one's worrying about being excluded by us.

These baptisms sound very sweet. Intention is what counts most, I guess. Whether the intention is to exclude or include.