My niece had her baby last night. So I'm an uncle. Again. I'm very happy for them. David (my nephew) is bursting at the seems, and I'm sure that Krissy (his bride to be) is relieved to have 6½ lbs. of kicking baby boy ejected from her womb. I can't wait to set eyes on the little guy. He's very healthy, and the mom's doing very well. David, of course, is acting like he did all the work. (Of course he is. He's a guy.)
As we're all sitting around in the afterglow of this glorious occasion, it hit me. I am supposed to be the baby's godfather. (Don't ask me why. I have no idea.) This comes from Krissy, the mom.
Now, it hit me yesterday that I had no idea what being a godfather entails. So, being the techy geek that I am, I looked it up in Wikipedia and found this lovely bit of news:
Traditionally, the godparents were counted informally responsible for ensuring that the child's religious education was carried out, and for caring for the child should he/she be orphaned. Today the latter duty is the most commonly recognized duty of a godparent, and the word "godparent" often no longer has religious overtones. The modern definition of godparent is an individual chosen by the parents to take a vested interest in raising a more complete human being. However, godparent is not a legal position, and should the parents seriously intend the godparents to act as foster parents in case of their death, this must be legally specified through the usual means (such as a will).
A godparent may, or may not, be related to the child. A child may have one or several godparents.
Oh boy. This is just fabulous. The idea that I'm supposed to be responsible for the kid's religious upbringing is, well, laughable. Certainly no one expects me to encourage a child to pursue a relationship with the Christian God. (They've got another thing coming if they do.) You won't find me doing anything of the sort. Rather, what you'll get from me is something along the lines of, "Young man, this is a pentacle. And this, this is a statue of the Goddess, and that is her consort. Ignore all this one male god bullshit."
It also bears noting that Krissy is of a distinctly Catholic background. So, being a glutton for punishment, I delved further into the article and read that as well:
In the Roman Catholic church, only church members who have undergone Confirmation are accepted as godparents. Someone who belongs to another Christian denomination cannot become a godparent but is known as a Christian Witness, with most of the regular role of a godparent. Non-Christians are not at all eligible to any religious role formalized by the Church. This is based on the view that the godparent-godchild relationship is not something which is just between the persons and God, but a whole-Church event wherein the Holy Spirit dwells.
A Godparent is regarded as a patron saint on earth, who prays for the newly baptised, looks after them spiritually and gives them guidance. The Catholic Church sees Baptism as an entry into the Kingdom of God, and entry into the Church.
Um, yeah. Sorry folks, none of that is going to happen. Prior to meeting The Guy, the only time I went anywhere near a Catholic priest was to have sex with him. I do NOT condone baptism of babies (it's pointless), I don't believe that priests are a conduit to God, and I flatly deny the authority of the Catholic church in all its forms. Hell, I don't even believe in Hell. (I didn't even believe in that bullshit when I was a Christian.)
Suffice it to say, I'm a completely unsuitable candidate for either a godparent, or even a Christian Witness.
What's a gay pagan to do? How do I break the news to the new mom that the Church likely won't even let me in the door, let alone serve as a godparent or "Christian Witness"? This ought to be interesting, to say the least.
So, in the short term, I'll sit here and muse over the imagery in my head, of buildings crumbling around me, crucifixes bursting into flames, holy water boiling, and nuns passing out, while the day approaches when I have to explain it to them. They'll be crushed, but I think they'll get over it. I'm certain there will be other fine candidates out there. I mean, after all, the Pope has dictated quite clearly who is and who is not acceptable in the eyes of God. All they have to do is get the checklist, right?
And there, at the bottom of the checklist, it will point out that you must be a bigoted, straight, white, rich, pro-life, guilt-ridden, married Catholic with children who can continue to line the coffers of the Church.
Clearly, I've failed the suitability test.
3 comments:
Your niece had a baby? That makes you a grand-uncle, doesn't it?
Why yes, yes it would. :)
But then again, all that family-tree nomenclature business baffled me anyway. First cousin, second-to-last cousin twice removed on my mother's side, blah blah blah. Who can keep track of all that stuff? And does it matter anyway? I have a hard enough time keeping track of my cats' names.
My brother asked me to be the godfather of his first son and I basically felt the same way and had to say no.
Post a Comment