tom.bl*g

Into the Church

Yesterday at the Easter Vigil mass I was recieved into the Catholic church and confirmed, before celebrating my first Eucharist.

My sister—driving north on I-75—missed the opening procession because she missed the last Gainesville exit, but my parents had arrived on time. They are all "high-church" Lutheran converts, and enjoyed the mass to the dissapointment of all my fears. I said "I do" to statements like "Do you reject Satan and all his works", and I remember watching a wasp fly up behind Fr. Julien and alight on his vestements, between the neck and the shoulder; Ninja Scroll came to mind. More importantly, his homily was Christocentric and the music was beautiful and I am happy for now.

Sitting under an A/C vent, my candle melted at a furious rate. The care I took not to spill wax distracted me from the liturgy, but later Fr. Julien took the Holy Chrism—oil blessed by a Bishop and scented typically with balsam—and annointed my forehead with the sign of the cross. The draft magnified the smell of balsam. Molecules evaporate from the oil, flow down the front of my face, up with an inhale through my nostrils. Some of the molecules land on the mucus membrane, and disolve into the thin layer of mucus for identification. The olfactory bulb communicates this information to the primary olfactory cortex and the limbic system; it is the only sensory organ that bypasses the hub of the thalmus; it is an older, primitive structure. It is likely that after everything else is fuzzy and blurred that balsam will still stir the memory and revive the emotions of my confirmation. I have lost sympathy for anyone who speaks about "smells and bells" church with anything but pleasant familiarity.

At a small reception afterwards, David—the other convert—and I were given rosaries. My family met the RCIA team, including my sponsor Robert—an adult convert from mainline protestantism with an analytic intellect that I enjoy—and later Fr. Julien. AFterwards my parents, my sister, and I went to Chopsticks for dinner.

I love my family.

My mom tried the smoked eel nigiri, twice, and she had several bites from my seaweed salad. Everyone tried the fried tofu, and we all agreed that Laura's General Tsao's Eggplant was yummadelic. Layered on top of this activity, we were discusing The Church. Our family discussing religion is like, well, our family discussing religion; thoughtful nods and "that seems a lot like when we" and "you have a point" and "it's never been explained to me like that". A strange dive into what I retrospectively identified as apologetics. Anyhow, it was good food, and Laura complemented my hair, so I was happy.

Posted by Tom at April 11, 2004 03:15 PM