Baptism

So, last week Vivi was baptized.

The ceremony was part of the regular Saturday evening mass. James and I carried her in the entering procession, with her godparents behind us. We gathered around the gifts table in the middle of the central aisle "as if doing a dope deal," Father Jim instructed. He asked her name in a ringing voice quite unlike his usual golden-retriever growl.

What name do you give your child
Vivian Katherine.

What do you ask of God's church?
Baptism.

The ceremony itself came after the liturgy of the word (between the two halves of mass). Vivian was wide awake and eager to climb into the beautiful basin of coloured glass and play with the crystal pitcher. Squirm, twist, reach.

Father Jim gave the reading about water as a mark of grace -- it touches on the division of the land from the water at creation, and the great flood and rainbow, and the water that poured from Jesus's side after he was dead. I caught my mom's eye. I know we were both thinking about my sister. I stood on the altar dais and tipped Vivi until she was beaming at the congregation, upside down. Father Jim poured water on her and she beamed and him and tossed her little head.

The congregation renewed their vows with us. Then her godfather lit a candle from the Pascal candle, to represent the flame of faith we were giving her. Ooooo, fire, said Vivi, distracted from the beautiful glass. She reached for it. I stepped back. Not quite that much faith, just yet.

Then the priest took the chrism (the holy oil) and anointed her forehead. Then he spiked her hair with it. She grinned at him. The congregation laughed and she whipped around and grinned at them instead.

And then she was baptized. "This is our daughter," said the priest. "Vivian. We have a new Christian." Everyone clapped, and Vivi, who is usually freaked out by clapping, screeched with delight.

The chrism smells wonderful, by the way -- as if it came from the desert, heat and spice. I wonder, belatedly, if it's myrrh.

During the great peace, Father Jim took Vivi from me and carried her out through the congregation. And everyone touched her feet or ruffled her hair and she cooed and them all and grinned like she does. Family now.