Thursday, February 01, 2007

DAVID PRAISES THE LORD
(or: CAN I GET AN "AWWW...-MEN"?)




This is Cameron. He is the baby of my sister, Kim, and her spousal Scotsman, Russell. They recently returned to their home in England after a lengthy visit over much of December and January.

One of the highlights of my holiday was New Year’s Eve. Not just because of a successful stand-up gala that evening, which certainly ended the year on a happy note, but because of my nephew’s baptism earlier that Sunday. The astute Unprejudician may recall my entry from October 11th where I was concerned about being a suitable godfather for little Cameron. My main reservation was that I am not very religious and in fact have been feeling quite hostile towards institutionalized religion as a whole.

Well, I guess my inner agnostic took a secular holiday, 'cause the baptism had me looking up and feeling blessed. Between the music, the ceremony, and the great baby that was the center of it all, it was hard not to be in high spirits. Props to soloists Jessica Wise and Reg Fergus. Reg has been the main reason I attend the Christmas Eve service for the past 20 years, as his rendition of “O Holy Night” is oh-so-holy. For the baptism he went slightly more secular but no less magical with “What a Wonderful World”. Can’t go wrong with Satchmo.

The whole event had many moved to tears and certainly pinned a smile to my face. Seeing Cameron, a doughy ball of hope and goodness, made me look very much forward to Michelle’s and my own impending bundle. And deep inside I found myself thanking God.

I don't mean the God that's been used by leaders to control the world for centuries. I still don’t believe in a God that threatens with hellfire, or bribes with virgins, or demands that we sacrifice foreskins or comfortable summer attire or pork chops. I don’t believe in any God that would have us kill in His name. For that matter I think the world would be so much better if we dropped the whole notion that humans have to do His will at all. The guy’s omnipotent. He doesn’t need us. So if you’re going to burn books, bash gays or insist that humans evolved from a rib, quit playing the “God's will” card and admit that either you’ve got some personal gripes with this stuff or you're just comfortable following orders.

Nah, I just believe in the God that makes babies possible. The one who gives us not just the ability to whip one up on demand, but better still the ability to look at an infant and get that mushy feeling. The feeling that lets us willingly toss our dignity out the window in the hopes of maybe making the critter smile. The feeling that makes us view festivities that should honestly scream of hokey-ness but instead feel just perfect. Cameron’s baptism was perfect. A veritable slam dunk.

The event didn’t make me born again or anything. It just made me happy that things get born. Whoever pulls the strings that make that happen, that’s the guy I want to thank. For letting me be born in a world that's given me family, friends, good times and, of course, pork chops.

Here’s one more picture of my godson and his mom.




Thanks, G.