Church

This weekend, I went to my nephew's christening at my old church. Quite an odd group of individuals had gathered for the event - mostly family. Even my grandmother and her three sisters were in attendance. Shocking. You see, two of them were baptized and two were not (we'll refer to these last two as the sisters-H ... the H, of course, stands for 'Going to Hell'). This odd inconsistency within their family occurred when the youngest of the sisters was an infant and almost died in a freak accident involving a slippery table, the hard kitchen floor, and her head. While she walked the fine line between life and death in the hospital, it was explained to my great-grandmother by her doctor that "if she dies, she won't go to heaven because she's not baptized." As a precautionary measure, my great grandmother had her baptized her along with her sister (who just happened to be at the hospital that day). The infant eventually recovered, and nothing extraordinary happened to either of the two baptized sisters ... ever again.


The sisters-H, however, suffered a worse fate. Around the same time as the accident, they both discovered an allergy of sorts to ... well ... to churches. They could walk up to the church ... they could touch the church ... but the minute they stepped into the church ... any church ... they became violently ill.

Psychosomatic or not, this was a very real phenomena. I have a clear memory of my graduation from kindergarten which took place in the church. As I received my diploma, I looked out towards my family (photo op!) and spotted my grandmother running for the door, handkerchief over her mouth, barely making it outside before she lost it. Fast forward a few years later to a funeral. She gave a repeat performance ... except she didn't quite make it outside. Fast forward to my brother's wedding. This time it was my great-aunt's turn. By the time the bride showed up for the ceremony (her car broke down on the way) my great-aunt was already sweating. By the time the words 'you may kiss the bride' were uttered, she had the handkerchief over her mouth. In some magnificent show of strength, she managed to hold it all in until the bride and the groom had hopped in their limo and been zoomed away. We assumed, naturally, of course, that this was just part of the Curse of the Sisters-H. In actuality, the 'forces' in the church had ruptured her stomach and she had to be rushed away by ambulance ... but not before spewing on the flower bed in front of the church. (She ended up being fine, btw, after a little surgery).

So, naturally, it was quite a shock to see them both at the christening. I surveyed them quickly. They appeared to be fine. There was no garlic around their necks ... no talisman to protect them from the evils of the church. They were just standing there ... looking healthy ... smiling in fact ... flanked by their two baptized sisters. Flanked by their two baptized sisters? "Ah," I thought, "they've finally figured out a way to sidestep the curse of the sisters-H. Sneaky."

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While in the church, I also had some time to think about gay marriage. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why the Church would be resistant to gay marriage ... after all, they've been doing it for years. Granted, they've been matching up gays with lesbians ... but that counts for something ... right???