The 4 C's of my Chrismation

Crosses, Clothing, Confession, and Communion. I know they are not the 4 horsemen of the apocolypse, but these are the things occupying virtually all of my brain - not too mention the effect they have on my anxiety level - over the next several days.

First the crosses. This one is pretty much under control now, but earlier this week, it was getting a little stressful. One of the responsibilities of our sponsors is to provide a cross for us at our baptism/chrismation. A lovely practice to be sure. However, in their efforts to be sure we are happy with the crosses we will hopefully have for a very long time as a sign of this huge committment, they invited us to help with the selection. Very thoughtful gesture, just not so great for this gal who absolutely loves a surprise and does not make decisions in any kind of a hurry. I was able to work a deal out with my godmother to just give her some ideas of what I do and do not like and let her go from there. Then I totally flaked on choosing Q and A's. When we did finally make a choice for Addie, it arrived and her godmother was nearly in tears with disappointment over the miniscule size and insisted it just wouldn't do. That was 2 days ago. What I didn't realize was that all crosses had to be given to the priest first so he could see them and bless them before our chrismations. So she was looking at a second order and overnight shipping charges. I felt terrible. The crisis was averted, though, by a quick trip to the Christian Supply store down the street from us where Adelaide selected something that was adequately "sparkly" and all was good again. It was about then that I realized that I had never gotten back to Quincy's godfather with an actual selection. I seemed to have a vague recollection of a conversation with someone, but even that was foggy. I was in a bit of a panic until I found out that it had all been taken care of and was already with Fr. George. I still feel bad for being so lazy and wishy-washy, but at least the end result is good.



Then there's the clothing. I knew this was coming. I could have taken care of it sooner. Did I? Of course not! In my small defense, it has been very busy at work never mind the daunting nature of going clothes shopping with 1 adult and 3 small children. Tell me you wouldn't procrastinate too. Anyway, our church does not do robes for baptism. The only requirement is white. This may sound picky, but in the early church they were doing this naked. Let's all be thankful they let that tradition go. So in my mind I have been taking a mental inventory of the kid's wardrobes and was pretty sure that Quincy had 1 white dress shirt and surely in the vastness of Adelaide's dresses there was at least one white one. And I seemed to remember getting something white for Milo in a bag of hand me downs. What I did not give a second thought to was what in the world Erik and I would wear. So this afternoon we are all home and this is our quest. Not to mention that we not only need something white that can get submerged in the water, but also something white to where after that for the remainder of the service. Pastels are acceptable also, but white is definitely preferred. By sundown tonight, my mission is to have all apparel secured for the entire Paschal weekend. Wish me luck.



Confession. Do I really need to explain why this is stressful? This has been one of my biggest hindrances in becoming Orthodox over the past 3 years. It absolutely terrifies me. But it has to be done. Graciously, they require all other members to complete their confessions earlier in Lent and reserve Holy Week strictly for the catechumens knowing full well, that it will likely be a lengthier process not only because of the volume of sins to confess, but also because it is a nerve wracking experience for those of us brand new to it. For those coming over from some type of liturgical experience perhaps not so much, but for folks like me . . . . . awkward to say the least. We have committed to Monday night. Erik, Quincy, and myself will be confessing individually while Milo and Adelaide get off scott free . . . for now. So that is the other thing we will be doing tonight is making our preparations for that. Again, wish us luck. Or better yet, say a prayer.



And finally, communion. Any stress regarding this stems solely from my own self centered insecurities. Most people joining the church are so eager with the anticipation of finally partaking of the Holy Mysteries, but no, not Heather. Heather is riddled with anxiety over making a mistake herself (I am a bona fide klutz) or having one of her children do so. It's not that I have problem with screwing up, I do it often enough. But when it comes to Holy Communion there are a few, uhhh, ramifications. Without opening a big bag of theological worms, I will simply say that when it comes to the bread and the wine, we Orthodox fall somewhere between the transubstantiating Catholics and the purely symbolic Evangelicals. This is waaayyy more than a commemoration, but it's not cannibalism. It's why we call the elements the "Holy Mysteries". We just can't truly explain it. However, if a crumb of bread or drop of wine falls to the floor, "technically" speaking we would have to burn that portion of the rug and cut a hole in the flooring. The priest could be suspended for a week since he is the one responsible. (We are served communion on a spoon from the priest.) We always have a cloth being held under the chalice just in case something should drop, but that's not really something one should rely on. Besides, a little cloth is not going to do the job when a 10 month old sees something shiny coming straight at him right there within his reach. Any mother out there knows exactly what I fear. That's why Erik is in charge of Milo's communion for a yet to be determined span of time. Then there's Quincy with the dining habits of a caveman. Food somehow just does not stay in his mouth. Never mind the reaction I know we're going to get from both Q and A when they taste the wine, no matter how much it is watered down. I am praying Adelaide doesn't just spit it out of her mouth. We've been building this up for awhile now, and I think the reality is that communion will lose some of it's lustre when they realize they have to take the wine with the bread. We'll cross that bridge in a few weeks. For now I just want to get through the first one.

I feel a little bad that this should be a time of excitement and anticipation and I lie awake some nights thinking where things will go wrong. Honestly I do feel an underlying joy throughout this process and I am completely thrilled to be joining this family. But the real world in which I live has all sorts of potential for disaster. So if you think of us this week say a prayer. I know many a "Lord have mercy" will be streaming from my tongue as well.