April 11, 2005
Baptism and Near-Drowning
There is a rule of thumb that goes: The older your parents become, the more vivid become their memories of your childhood. It was an adage that rang true when I spent a lazy day at home in conversation with my parents.
They talked about the day I was baptized. Apparently, I had been smiling, babbling and giggling at the priest as he was valiantly going through the baptismal rites. As he prayed and lifted his hands and blessed me, I was cooing at him, trying to get him to play a game with me. However, unlike most babies who get only their foreheads wet with about a glass of holy water, I got ceremoniously dunked in a BATHTUB full of holy water. I guess being in a foreign country (Belgium) and having the baptism performed in my parents’ apartment accounted for this. I got dunked and was sputtering and howling my lungs out when I got lifted out of the tub of holy water. I never smiled at the priest after that.
I’ve often wondered why priests cause me a certain amount of fear. I used to think it was because they were God’s representative on earth—authority figures. That weekend “revelation” made me think otherwise. I now like to tell my parents that ever since that day, I must have correlated priests and baptism with near-drowning. That’s why I fear priests. And that’s why I am deathly afraid of large bodies of water. I might drown.
I’ve often thought that maybe I should be baptized again. Perhaps this time, in another religion (I doubt if they will allow me to be “re-baptized” in my present one... Hehehe); preferably one with rites that involve water. Maybe—just maybe—I will get over my fear of authority figures and water.
Right now though when you ask me what word comes to mind when you say “priest” or “baptism” my automatic answer will be “NEAR-DROWNING!”
There is a rule of thumb that goes: The older your parents become, the more vivid become their memories of your childhood. It was an adage that rang true when I spent a lazy day at home in conversation with my parents.
They talked about the day I was baptized. Apparently, I had been smiling, babbling and giggling at the priest as he was valiantly going through the baptismal rites. As he prayed and lifted his hands and blessed me, I was cooing at him, trying to get him to play a game with me. However, unlike most babies who get only their foreheads wet with about a glass of holy water, I got ceremoniously dunked in a BATHTUB full of holy water. I guess being in a foreign country (Belgium) and having the baptism performed in my parents’ apartment accounted for this. I got dunked and was sputtering and howling my lungs out when I got lifted out of the tub of holy water. I never smiled at the priest after that.
I’ve often wondered why priests cause me a certain amount of fear. I used to think it was because they were God’s representative on earth—authority figures. That weekend “revelation” made me think otherwise. I now like to tell my parents that ever since that day, I must have correlated priests and baptism with near-drowning. That’s why I fear priests. And that’s why I am deathly afraid of large bodies of water. I might drown.
I’ve often thought that maybe I should be baptized again. Perhaps this time, in another religion (I doubt if they will allow me to be “re-baptized” in my present one... Hehehe); preferably one with rites that involve water. Maybe—just maybe—I will get over my fear of authority figures and water.
Right now though when you ask me what word comes to mind when you say “priest” or “baptism” my automatic answer will be “NEAR-DROWNING!”
posted by fay gloria @ 11:51 PM
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