Il Padrino

On my ‘Waiting on the Wing’ post I’d mentioned that I had news, well the news was that my sister, Lorraine, and Brother-in-Law, Graeme, had asked me to be godfather to my nephew Jonathan.

Needless to say I was delighted to be asked but none the less, in true Ambrose style, I had some issues about performing my part of the service. As godfather it was my job to stand before my family, the congregation and the priest, renounce Satan and state that I did in fact believe in God almighty. Problem is I do not nor ever have believed in God, almighty or otherwise.

Now I know most people would not have any qualms about doing this, they are only words after all, but this is me and we all know I love the angst. It does have to be said at this point that I cannot allow myself to let you make the assumption that my hesitance in this matter was due to taking some sort of moral high ground. No if fact my apprehension was due to the fact that my believes (or disbelieves I suppose) on this subject matter are widely known and my fear was that at best my ‘white lie’ would end in the best case with my being asked to leave that holy place or, at worst, being stoned to death on the steps of the chapel.

The service was last Sunday and, after some confusion amongst my mostly lapsed/heathen family over the fact no one could decide it the front wooden shelve from which the knee rests come from was in fact a seat, it was near time to take my oaths. The service was led by the kindly Irishman, and EK legend, Father Mac who was quick to point out at the beginning of his service that on an occasion such as the Christening of a child, denomination was no great concern in his eyes. This statement made me feel worse. Despite my feelings towards practiced religion I was of course feeling guilty about lying to a priest in the first place, but to lie to this man, a good man who would never judge you by your religion or lack of it as some can, to lie to a man like that I’d deserve for hell to exist just so as I could be sent there.

As Father Mac approached us in preparation for the oaths to be taken I prepared myself to rise and be damned, Just as the last wave of guilt passed over me I realised that he had begun, the time was now and to my amazement and great relief I was remained seated. Better still Father Mac and the eyes of all that were able were on the star of the show as little Jonathan looked up the big man in the dress with a natural confusion as he was spoken to in the well known Irish murmur. The oaths were asked. I renounced Satan but was able to keep my mouth firm and unnoticeably closed when the question of believe was asked, better still there seemed to be no ill effect on or scorch marks left when I traced the sign of the cross on my Godsons head.

I was and am very proud to have been asked to do and be such a thing as I am to Jonathan. All that remains now is to be there for him, answer the questions which kids don’t ask there parents, give the odd bung now and then and obviously if I feel he needs it threaten the odd obstacles, which may occur, with the severed head of an animal put into said obstacles bed.

***

Anna and the Church

As a side piece to my christening story here is a small story about my niece Anna on the day of her little brothers christening.

As Lorraine and Graeme were getting ready to leave to attend the mass before the christening service their daughter of 4 years old, Anna, asked them “what’s mass?” Anna was quickly seated and explained to as briefly as possible the ins and outs of mass, which has attended before, and the reasons for attending Church.

Anna quietly contemplated all that she was told and after a breathless wait screwed her face up and said “nah, I’m not going to that.”

That’s ma girl.