So, we have survived another confluence of holidays. And I, ladies and gentlemen, went to Church. On Easter. And did not spontaenously burst into flame, leaving a little kosher for passover pile of ashes. But I get ahead of myself.

Somehow, the lad and I have managed to merge religious beliefs without a whole lot of sturm und angst. He believes what he believes, I believe what I believe, we respect that, and are each geeky enough that we're fascinated by the theology, mythos, and philosphy of the other's religion and yet able to completely separate that from faith. How we do this, I do not know, but amen we do. Our immediate families are okay with this, despite the occasional flare up now thanks to the impending baby, but we expected that. His parents desperately will do whatever it takes to ensure there's a modicum of catholicism in the kid's life, but after the explosion of a few months back, are now aware of how sensitive I am on the topic and that they really need to make sure they do not accidentally malign my beliefs in professing theirs.

Accordingly, the lad and I are fairly...mellow...about the upcoming religious rituals. R, with input from me, is writing what I am sure will be beautiful liturgy for a Jewish naming ceremony. We have talked to the Jesuits (rather, I have, or it would never get done) and the kid will be baptized the same weekend as the naming ritual, at the lone Jesuit parish in the city. Plus, it's the 4th of July weekend we're doing this all on, so drunken BBQ and grilling will encompass the sober and meaningful stuff. For, as I put it to Matilda, "What's a Catholic ceremony without alcohol afterwards?" she wisely responded, "Protestant." The Jesuits are remarkably accomodating, given our situation, and have graciously offered to work the ceremony so that I and my family feel as 'not marginalized' as possible. So, since these folks are going to perform a rather important ritual over my child, I felt it was important to, oh, set foot in the church before the weekend of religious excess (we'll shoehorn in the pledging to Cthulu and taking the Buddhist tonsure if time permits).

The Lad had tried to explain that it's a modern church without falling into the 'orange shag! 60's badness!' that every other so called 'modern' church I've been in does. He also tried to explain how very very smart the senior Father is. None of it processed until this weekend. It was the first church I set foot in that I did not have that overwhelming, claw hand up my back feeling wash over me. I always feel other in a church, and usually it's a heart pounding, the walls are speaking to me, "This is NOT your space" level of Other. This church, it was more of a 'Hi. Yeah you don't buy this, but check out the library." This building could be nothing but a Jesuit church. It is built such that the whole main shebang is a fish. It's designed for the Father to be able to roam the aisles rather than be stuck up front. I really wasn't expecting an easter homily to begin with an astrophysics lecture on eclipses. I keep managing to forget that the Jesuits ARE the intellectual badasses of the Roman Catholic Church. Don't fuck with them, cause they can argue rings around you and they will be right. They can argue any side and they will be right. Deal with it. Of course, it being Easter, there were a lot of kids, and so the hand me mah light saber it's the one labeled 'badass motherfuckah' level of Jesuit asskicking was tempered by screaming and babbling and a little girl yelling at the boy near her, when he was given saltines to keep him quiet "DON'T CHEW! You're NOT supposed to BITE JESUS!"

Nonetheless, my respect for the academic kick yo' butt aspect of the Jesuits did not stop me from having one of the most 'unchristian' thoughts of my life. I was paying especial attention to the baptisms, having never seen an actual one live and in the flesh (I don't count the ones on Lifetime Television for Women movies to be the real deal, no, not even if they have Tori Spelling). I was stunned, stunned I tell you to find I could not answer 'yes' to a single one of the things they ask the parents and godparents to assert to (no wonder the baptism coordinator gently offered me an out on that part). I mean, first off, I'm going to have to keep a straight face as Lad and Matilda vow that they reject Satan, AND that they reject his works, AND that they affirm his way is the loser way, and between Dog Faced Boy, Leather Pants Grrrrrl, King of the Hill People, and myself, one of us is bound to snicker, "Not." and we'll all lose it. Secondly, there was the whole reminder of the fact that while the fallen angel start of Hell thing is really cool and captivating, eh, I think it's a myth, whereas here the two of them are expected to swear to this fervently and at least make a good show of believing it, because for their faith (or, er, faith flavor, since far be it from me to state that either of them is a rabidly devout believes every word Rome says Catholic) the whole Satan/Hell/Evil thing is the real deal (tm).

However, that little mental revelation was trumped by the moment when the Father intoned over the children about to be baptized, "I claim you in the name of the Holy Spirit and the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who is Risen today", and I thought- so help me- "Claim all you want, pal. He's got my Jew blood running through him. "

If I believed in it, I know I'd be goin to hell. Least the cool people are there.