My husband and I stood as godparents for the second son of our good friends on the eve of the new year. It was a lovely bright red and blue church, with saints surrounding Christ on the altar and the lingering scent of incense over everything. The little boy slept through the ceremony while we spoke in his name, renouncing Satan, reaching out to heaven. Traditionally, he ought to have cried, just a little at the exorcism. Babies who don’t still have the devil in them, the sacrament didn’t ‘take’. I’m comforted though, to know that in this family, it’s more likely the devil had so light a hold that the child didn’t notice him slipping away, a painless separation - all the easier for Christ to come and dwell.
No comments:
Post a Comment