Confirmation consternation

Aisling's Confirmation Mass at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton parish went very well on Friday evening. It was all very beautiful and my husband and I -- Meelyn too -- were moved to tears as we watched our youngest go forward to receive God's promise for her life, but also to make her promise to Him. The joyful solemnity of the occasion cannot be overstated.

After Mass, Aisling was glowing with happiness, giddy and excited, so we all went out for a late dinner to calm her down.

The picture to the left is of Bishop William Higi of our diocese, which is named Lafayette-in-Indiana, giving his usual excellent homily. It was nearly the same one as last year's at Meelyn's confirmation, but that's okay because it's a message we all need to hear over and over again: We can profess Jesus as Lord and Savior, but if we don't live that way, if the message of salvation is only in our minds and not in our hearts, then we aren't really saved. And other than that, all I can add is that Kayte's son Matt is the altar server on the very end there, looking so much taller and broader than the last time I saw him, which was in the fall.

Before the Mass started, however, a couple of very strange things happened to us. They were those kinds of things that Carol, Susie and I have discussed before, i.e. the tendency in our family to attract oddballs of different sorts. Sometimes people come up to us and speak random remarks that are inapropos to anything that's happening. Or they do weird things that end up getting them in trouble - boy, does Carol have a story about that. It seems to be some kind of family heritage: my own father has what my mother has referred to as "a ministry to the naked," due to his stumbling upon the undressed in several awkward situtions and being forced to render aid to them while modestly averting his eyes.

Thankfully, I didn't have to experience any nakedness on Friday night, but I did encounter one of those folks who has an urgent need to tell you Too Much Information, whether you want to hear it or not.

I was in the nave of the church, having walked into the narthex with Aisling to find her group from our parish. I left her there with some friends and went back into the church, where I was arranging some hymnals on a bench to reserve seats for my husband, Meelyn and myself. While I was placing hymnals at a comfortable distance, I heard someone behind me say, "Excuse me? Ma'am?"

I turned around to find a lady about my own age standing on the other side of the aisle. "Yes?" I said pleasantly, smiling at her.

"Do you know where the confirmands and their sponsors are supposed to meet?" she asked.

"No, I'm afraid I don't," I replied. "I just took my daughter out to the narthex to meet with her group, but other than that, I don't know anything."

"Oh," she said, crestfallen. "See, I'm a sponsor this year and I wanted to make sure I got everything right this year? Because last year, I was so confused and I stood up at the wrong time and sat down at the wrong time and my friend, the one I was sponsoring, she was, like, 'What is wrong with you tonight?'"

"There is a lot to it," I said sympathetically. "These big, complicated Masses...."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Last year, I started my period on Confirmation day and I was bleeding like a stuck pig and I had the most horrible cramps...."

"Oh," I said faintly, trying not to shoot my eyes back and forth to find the nearest exit.

"So I told my friend, 'I am nearly DEAD from these cramps and I'm worried I'm going to leak blood through onto my dress so I just don't have much brain left over to think about when I'm supposed to stand and sit,'" she continued in an we're-all-girls-here-together manner that I found very disconcerting. I mean, I'm sorry about her cramps and all, but I just wanted to put the hymnals on the bench and go on back out to the van where Meelyn was waiting without having to explore the intricacies of someone else's menstrual cycles, y'know?

It didn't seem too much to ask.

But it seemed that she had the desire to continue talking to me, perhaps attempting to engage me in a discussion over which feminine hygience products I find the most efficacious, but I was not going down that road. With a hurried, "Excuse me," I went out the side door of the church as if I had wings on my heels, leaving her there to see if she could discern the onset the onset of this month's Untimely Visitor without me there to help her.

Once I got back to the van, Meelyn and I went to run a couple of errands, and by the time we got back to the church for Weirdness Phase 2, all the confirmands and their sponsors were seated in the nave and being given their marching orders by a man with a clipboard and a headset, which reminded me of Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner, so I immediately dubbed him The Confirmation Planner.

As Meelyn and I sat down, a blonde woman in front of us, a sponsor, turned around and said, "Are you bystanders?"

Bystanders? I thought. What a strange word to use. As if we have the habit of stopping by random churches to observe how their practices for Confirmation Mass are organized? "I'm a mother," I answered her. A bystanding mother? A mother who stands by? Who knows?

"Oh. Well, then, you're not supposed to be in here. They just made the announcement that all people who aren't part of the Confirmation Mass need to leave. You're all banned from the church until 6:30, and then you can be seated. So I'm afraid you'll have to go out to the narthex now," she said loftily. She tossed her sleek, pageboy haircut just a little and pursed her lips in a smile that reminded me uncannily of a tiger baring its teeth -- unfriendly and a little bit predatory.

I gave her a level look and said "Oh," in a cool voice, and glanced around at about twenty other people sitting in the pews around us who obviously were not part of the Mass. One was an elderly gentleman with bowed head and closed eyes, leaning forward on his cane; another was a girl of about ten who was reading The Thief Lord and chewing gum. I decided that Meelyn and I would stay put. So it would be better -- friendlier and more helpful -- for the lot of us to go and stand up in the narthex for nearly an hour with nowhere to sit and perhaps say our prayers? I don't think so, sister.

Talk about bossy! I wanted to give her a boop on the nose and say, "Who died and left you in charge?" but I didn't, of course. I was sure thinking it, though, and decided that if anyone came up and told me to move, I'd tell them that I was slightly handicapped and couldn't stand out there on the tile floor of the narthex for an hour, and then if they gave me any more grief about sitting in the house of God, I'd pull up my left pant leg and show them my gnarly six inch scar.

At least she didn't tell me to move because she'd just started her period.

Confirmed in Christ

We're all wittering around the house over here because we have to leave in less than an hour to head off to the church in Carmel to attend Aisling's Confirmation Mass.

It's an exciting time and I feel, somehow, a great sense of accomplishment. This feeling is probably about the mental check-list I carry around in my head for both girls: Still home schooling? Check. Made it through junior high? Check. Attending religious ed classes and paying strict attention to all the requirements for Confirmation? Check. Working our way through the high school years? Check. SATs, scholarship-seeking, college acceptance and high school diplomas are still down the road a piece, but today? I can cross off another item.

As much as I'd like to expound on this happy event and what it means not only to me and my husband, but obviously also to Allison, it has been brought to my attention that if I don't attempt to tame my hair and touch up my makeup, I may well scare the bishop and cause his big hat to fall off.

For anyone who lives around here who may be wondering if we forgot to invite you to Aisling's open house, we did not forget. It's just that we're not having it until May 16. Let not your hearts be troubled: You will have a chance to eat a really amazing chicken and almond casserole upon that day.

For an explanation of what Confirmation is and what the sacrament confers upon a person, click here. There are also some interesting bits about the history of Confirmation, both in the Bible and from the writings of the Early Church Fathers.

Confirmation party

Meelyn's Confirmation party was today and it was really just lovely. Not because of us, but because of all the sweet friends and family who came to celebrate this really special occasion.

Here's who came to the party:

Uncle Graham and Carol drove up all the way from Madison. Carol brought Cokes and a veggie pizza (one of my favorite party treats) and a helpful attitude, although she did give me some grief for nearly pouring an entire dipper of punch on her hand and then tried to give me back her used Joyful Confirmation napkin to use next year at Aisling's party (see post below, final paragraph.) We bonded over melting a stubborn lump of orange juice concentrate in the microwave and later got sugar water in our hair when I accidentally splashed us by dropping the sherbet mold into the punch bowl with an excess of enthusiasm.

Pat, Angie and the kids came and all my friends finally got a chance to actually see the people I write about so frequently on this blog. Kieren was deeply admired by the several teen girls who were here, and for a quiet guy, I have to say he outdid himself in being both charming and entertaining, if the giggles I kept hearing were any indication. Dayden allowed Michelle and Al's boys to play with his bag full o' lizards that he keeps here. Kiersi peered between the balusters from her place on the stairs, looking like a little tiny convict and earnestly telling everyone who came through the front door that she was three.

Bob and Bridget came with Emily, clear from the west side of Indianapolis, which was so good of them. Emily is a good friend of the girls' and Bob and Bridget are the people Meelyn and Aisling would like to go live with, whether or not anything bad -- God forbid -- happens to me and my husband. "They have better food there," the girls tell us earnestly. "And they're very nice and never yell. And we get to play with the video camera and take lots of movies of us singing and no one tells us to turn it down." Bob and Bridget, if you're feeling lonely over there now that one little chickie has flown the nest and another one's in college and you've only got THREE LEFT AT HOME, please give us a call and we'll make arrangements for two teenagers to come for an extended stay chez vous.

Mark and Kayte came over from Carmel way on a Sunday jaunt. This was the first time that Kayte's ever been to my house, although we've been friends for a number of years. Isn't that odd? The explanation is, of course, that she is consumed by Matt's swimming schedule, which is no joke, considering that he is nationally ranked and swims year 'round. Mark, of course, is a busy lawyer who does some traveling in the course of his work, so it was a great pleasure to see their smiling faces. It meant so much that they took the time away from their busy schedules to drive so far.

Al, Michelle and the gang came too. As I said above, their boys were amazed by Dayden's generosity in the sharing of the bag full o' lizards (he is a very nice boy.) Kayte and I teased Michelle about her high-pitched refusal to eat another cold sandwich on our way home from Canada last fall. As Mee's sponsor, Michelle gave Meelyn a very beautiful and generous gift that makes me get kind of teary every time I think of it. Sweet, sweet friend!

The following people were invited but couldn't come and were missed:

Susie and Doug and Aunt Peg were invited, but Aunt Peg had a nasty fall and hurt herself rather badly a couple of weeks ago and is energetically undergoing convalescent rehabilitation, as is her wont. Doug had a business trip and Susie has been too involved with Aunt Peg to stray too far from home, so she sent a huge fruit bouquet from Edible Arrangements^® which was sooo cute,
telling me that she wanted to send a fruit basket because she knew I'd think of her every time I looked at it, hahaha.

Katie, Gary and Beck were invited, but couldn't come because it would necessitate Beck's missing her final orchestra practice before the big spring concert -- it seems that conductors and fellow musicians get a bit tetchy when this happens. Since Katie is one of my dearest friends and Beck is one of the girls' dearest friends and we all like Gary (even though he wouldn't stop the van in Stratford to let me hug a swan), it seemed a little empty without them.

Nanny and Poppy were invited, but of course couldn't come because they just flew in last week for Meelyn's sixteenth birthday. But we wanted them to know that they were wanted. I can hardly wait until they come home. Less than a month now!

There were a few other invitees who couldn't come, and I seriously don't know where we'd have put them if they did. I might have had to set up a table and chairs in the attic. But I know I'll pretty much invite the same people next year for Aisling's party, and perhaps a few more, now that I know I can do it.

As I thought things over in the aftermath, contemplating the leftovers, I realized that we served some very weird food and I'm a tiny bit mortified. My whole concept was to have things that people wouldn't need utensils for (except the cake) because I wasn't totally sure that we'd have enough forks without having to do a sinkful of dishes somewhere along the line, which would have been inconvenient. We have eight silver dinner forks and eight silver salad forks, but only six stainless dinner forks and six stainless ditto. I could not see the sense in asking people to eat tiny meatballs with spoons, hence the finger food.

This is what we had to eat:

Little ham salad sandwich triangles -- These were very delicious, but I won't serve them at Aisling's reception next year because the ham salad was just too messy. We did take the precaution of "sealing" the bread with soft butter so that it didn't get nasty and wet, but the ham salad still oozed out the sides. Still, people liked them: out of that whole crowd, we were only left with sixteen triangles (we made forty), which we happily ate for dinner late that evening because? Is there anything more fun than eating leftover party food while curled up on the couch in your jammies after all the guests have gone home? Love!

Cheeseball and crackers -- This is Meelyn's favorite, the one with the cream cheese, garlic powder, finely chopped green onions and chipped beef. This was considered an elegant party food back in the early 1950s, but we are still workin' it here in the midwest. The crackers, of which I had a fabulous assortment, all came from the Dollar Tree. I know! I didn't think they'd be fresh either! But they were! From now on, Dollar Tree is my one-stop source for party plates, cups, gift bags, greeting cards, thank you notes and crackers for the cheeseball.

Veggie pizza -- Carol brought this, as I mentioned, and I was so glad, since the veggies did away with the need for a veggie tray, which always looks so lovely and healthy, but NO ONE EVER EATS ANY OF IT. We get left with baby carrots and celery sticks and cucumber slices and radish roses for DAYS, and since we don't want them either, they always seem to get thrown out, which makes me feel wretchedly, hideously guilty. Carol's veggie pizza had a crust made of Pillsbury croissant rolls, plus cream cheese with some kind of seasoning (a packet of ranch dressing mix?), plus the vegetables and it was so good. There were only about eight squares of that left over and the girls and I ate them for breakfast yesterday morning. They were still very fresh and the croissant crust wasn't soggy at all, so the cream cheese must provide the same kind of moisture barrier that the butter did in the ham salad sandwiches.

Fruit -- This came in the form of Susie's Edible Arrangement and it was so pretty, people didn't want to dig into it at first. It was constructed from canteloupe, honeydew, strawberries, grapes and pineapple, and once everyone decided that it was a food object and not a museum piece, it went very quickly. Delicious! I managed to grab a pineapple daisy before they were all gone.

Cheese, summer sausage and olive spears -- I could not resist the urge to cut up summer sausage and cheese into teeny chunks and spear them on those fancy toothpicks with ripe and green olives, mostly because I snort-laugh whenever I read about Una Alconbury's Turkey Curry Buffet in Helen Fielding's spectacularly hilarious take on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Bridget Jones' Diary. I am always enthralled by the thought of bourgeois cheese dice and pineapple chunks on toothpicks, with Bridget haranguing Mark Darcy to choose a tidbit off the tray. I just love it too much. Here's a little snippet from Bridget:

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The worst of it was that Una Alconbury and Mum wouldn't leave it at that. They kept making me walk around with trays of gherkins and glasses of cream sherry in a desperate bid to throw me into Mark Darcy's path yet again. In the end, they were so crazed with frustration that the second I got within four feet of him with the gherkins, Una threw herself the room like Will Carling and said, "Mark, you must take Bridget's telephone number before you go so that you can get in touch when you're in London."

"Can I tempt you with a gherkin?" I said, to show I had a genuine reason for coming over, which was quite definitely gherkin-based rather than phone-number-related.

"Thank you, no," he said, looking at me with some alarm.

"Sure? Stuffed olive?" I pressed on.

"No, really."

"Silverskin onion?" I encouraged. "Beetroot cube?"

"Thank you," he said desperately, taking an olive.

"Hope you enjoy it," I said triumphantly.*

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There was one thing I didn't consider, though, and that was the uncanny and unfortunate resemblance that cubes of all-beef summer sausage have to horse meat. As the girls and I sat at the kitchen table threading little chunks of this and that on our frilly toothpicks that matched my serving dishes, I had some moments of misgiving, fighting hard to resist the urge to throw back my head and whinny. I also did not allow myself to gallop into the dining room to set the platter with our be-toothpick'ed treats on the table. We didn't have very many left over, though, so maybe not as many of our friends and family went to the cinema to see Seabiscuit as I thought. If I serve these again, I'll make sure to just cut each round of summer sausage into quarters and leave the edge (minus the rind, of course).

Keeping these things in mind -- the oozy sandwiches, the Secretariat-on-a-stick -- I think I may go in another direction for Aisling's reception next year.

Yesterday evening at Moms' Night Out, my friend Julie was telling us about this creamy chicken and rice casserole that she has made for every baptism and First Communion party she's ever held. She told us that it was easy to prepare and a real people-pleaser, at which time everyone started clamoring for the recipe. Julie emailed it to all of us this morning, and I have to say, it does sound good. I was thinking that maybe I could serve the casserole with little hot biscuits, or maybe even little homemade puff pastry croissants, some fruit salad and a relish tray -- perhaps with gherkins, silverskin onions and beetroot cubes -- plus cake.

I'll just need to buy some new forks.

*Bridget Jones' Diary, Copyright (c) 1996 Helen Fielding, All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Penguin Books, Penguin Putnam Incorporated, 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

Confirmed!

Meelyn was confirmed last night with an enormous group of teenagers (and some adults as well) at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Catholic Church in Carmel. It was a beautiful Mass. When the confirmands processed into the church and Mee passed by our pew, her beautiful face peaceful, her hands prayerfully folded, I couldn't help but think about the first time I held her, her baptism, that first confession ("I am sometimes mean to my sister, but she deserves it"), First Holy Communion. I sniffled loudly, trying to keep myself under control. I did not want to go forward to receive communion from the hands of the bishop looking like a panda.

"Are you crying?" Aisling whispered from the left. She's at this age when any sign of great emotion from me causes her to fall down to the floor, laughing.

"Not quite," I said with dignity.

"Is he?" she asked, pointing discreetly to her father, who was standing at my right.

I craned my neck around to get a look at his face. "Yep," I whispered back.

"You two are such adorable, funny old things," she giggled.

I'm happy to report that I resisted the urge to step on her foot, since we were in church and all.

The bishop, whose name is William Higi, preached a very fine homily about what the sacrament of confirmation is: It is the completion of the work that was begun in us at baptism, each step along the way since then (first reconciliation, first communion) bringing the confirmands to this specific point where they would stand before him, the assembled priests and the congregation and confirm before God that they intended to serve Him for the rest of their lives; that they believe the statement of faith that Christians have been professing for the past 2,000 years, the beautiful creed codified at the Council of Nicaea in AD 325:

We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.
We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father, God from God,
Light from Light, true God from true God,
begotten, not made, one in being with the Father.
Through Him all things were made.

For us men and our salvation He came down from heaven:
by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary
and became man.
For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
He suffered, died, and was buried.
On the third day He rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures:
He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.
He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
and his kingdom will have no end.

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life,
who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
With the Father and the Son, He is worshiped and glorified.
He has spoken through the Prophets.

We believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.
We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
We look for the resurrection of the dead,
and the life of the world to come.

+Amen+

The bishop told the confirmands that, although this sacrament was the last in the rites of initiation, this was by far not the end of their journey in Christ. In fact, it signaled a beginning: They are now considered by the Roman Catholic Church to be adults in their faith, with all the responsibilities that entails. "If you don't understand something about your Catholic faith," he said, "you are bound to learn about it. As a representative of Christ on earth, it is your responsibility to tell other people about the Catholic Church. It is your duty to help Catholics who have lost their way to find their way back home."

There was more along these lines and I found it very inspiring, especially when he said very seriously, "You have gone through a lot of preparation to get to this point, although we refer to it as 'formation.' In the process of your formation, you have learned why this sacrament is extremely important, and you also learned that you are making a profession and a promise before God. This is not a step to be undertaken lightly, because God holds us to our promises."

Excellent.

Michelle was Meelyn's sponsor and came in looking beautiful, as always, bearing a gorgeous sheaf of deep red flowers in her arms (she knows I know NOTHING about flora and fauna, so I know she'll forgive me for being clueless about what kind of flowers they actually were. I know pansies, roses, daffodils, tulips, petunias, geraniums and pretty. That's it. Oh, and daisies.) When they went forward together so that Meelyn could be anointed with the chrism oil, I thought I would just melt into a puddle.

Afterwards, there was a little reception in the (huge) narthex and church hall with all kind of punch and cookies and cheese cubes and little sandwiches. Meelyn and Michelle had their picture taken with both Fr. D and the bishop, who was being mobbed like a rock star. The bishop is a very tall man, and with his red miter and gold crozier, he towered over the two of them. I think the picture, which I had to take on the horizontal in order to get all of them into the frame, may well consist of Meelyn and Michelle's heads and the bishop from his pectoral cross on up. Oh, dear. This is the bishop's last round of presiding over confirmations in the diocese: He is 72 or 75 or whatever age means it's time to slow down and take it easy, and his letter requesting retirement has been accepted by Pope Benedict. That means that next year, Aisling will be confirmed by a new bishop!

Tomorrow, we're having a very small reception for Meelyn here at the house involving, well, punch and cookies and cheese cubes and little sandwiches. WE ALSO HAVE CAKE, so see how with it I am? We found a lovely die-cut banner that reads "Joyful Confirmation" on the cheap at the Party House, as well as some matching napkins. I am delighted that we'll be able to use the banner again next year, although the napkins, I'm afraid, will be unsalvageable.