On Father's Day
For the second time in our family's history, we celebrated a baptism on Father's Day.
I was only six days postpartum, so it was a more low-key affair than previous baptisms for us.
Dear Elijah was welcomed into the Church in the company of his parents and siblings, many of his cousins, aunts and uncles, 3/4 of his grandparents, and his godparents and 5/7 of their children, too.
So the low-keyness wasn't for lack of people. It was for lack of effort, on my part, at least. Elijah's wonderful godparents generously offered to host the reception at their house, and it was a wonderful grace, because not only was I still very much in recovery mode, I spent the night before looking after a newborn and a sick Isaiah too.
To make matters more... interesting... it was 39 degrees celsius that day. Our house is not air-conditioned. Elijah's godparents home is. It seemed like a sensible choice to move the festivities over there.
I was only six days postpartum, so it was a more low-key affair than previous baptisms for us.
Dear Elijah was welcomed into the Church in the company of his parents and siblings, many of his cousins, aunts and uncles, 3/4 of his grandparents, and his godparents and 5/7 of their children, too.
So the low-keyness wasn't for lack of people. It was for lack of effort, on my part, at least. Elijah's wonderful godparents generously offered to host the reception at their house, and it was a wonderful grace, because not only was I still very much in recovery mode, I spent the night before looking after a newborn and a sick Isaiah too.
To make matters more... interesting... it was 39 degrees celsius that day. Our house is not air-conditioned. Elijah's godparents home is. It seemed like a sensible choice to move the festivities over there.
***
Even though I was woozy from the heat, distracted in concern for sick Isaiah languishing in the pew,
and all-too-aware of how I had only very recently given birth,
it was impossible not to get choked up at the beauty and simplicity of this sacrament.
A little water, a few key words, and suddenly
my very own son
is sealed with Christ for eternity.
Somehow, it seems fitting that we hobbled into the church,
plagued by illness, heat and postpartum fatigue.
It further showed how the Church
we were bringing our little baby into
is a place of healing and restoration.
We need not come in polished shoes and freshly starched blouses to be worthy of His grace.
(No, as Sweet Little Isaiah demonstrates, it's perfectly acceptable to show up in Crocs, a t-shirt and shorts after having throw up all over one's much more Church-y attire seconds before pulling out of the driveway.)
Deo gratias!
You always have such a beautiful way of expressing yourself when you write. Truthfully, I never noticed that Isaiah wasn't dressed up until you mentioned it here. I never fail to wonder at how very ordinary my experience of the sacraments is. It's all so veiled. A child is made new and I am distracted by heat and hip pain. We see as in a mirror dimly, but one day...
ReplyDelete"It further showed how the Church we were bringing our little baby into is a place of healing and restoration. We need not come in polished shoes and freshly starched blouses to be worthy of His grace."
ReplyDeleteLovely words. Thanks for sharing, and congratulations on the baptism!