Confirmandi

Confirmandi.  I don't know how many times I heard that word on Sunday.  It's one of those Catholic words that's kind of cool in that anceint, Latin, holy type of way and also scary for those exact same reasons.  I'm my niece's Sponsor for her Confirmation and on Sunday I had to go to Confirmation Practice with her.  Any type of Catholic sacramental practice has a lot of "you stand here" and "you sit there" and then at what time you process (are you processing by height or alphabetical order) and what hand is placed on what shoulder of each "Confirmandi".  The sponsor next to me whispered, "Which hand did she say to use?"  I answered, "Your right hand on the right shoulder. Christianity doesn't like lefties."  She smiled uncertainly at me and said, "I never thought about that before." 

This is my second time being a sponsor for a niece's confirmation.  Both times, I have felt very honored.  When you are asked to be a Godparent, you feel special to the parents.  When you are asked to be a Confirmation sponsor, you feel special to the child.  This time is Natalie, my brother's daughter.  Natalie picked Christina for her confirmation name.  When a child is confirmed in the Catholic Church, they pick a Saint whose qualities they would like to emulate, and that Saint's name becomes their confirmation name. St. Christina of Bolsena has this type of fabulous female Martyr story... 

Christina was beautiful and rich.  Her father was the governor of her town, and by the age of 11 she was so beautiful that men already wanted to marry her (creeper alert!).  Her father, however, had other ideas for his daughter and commanded that she become a pagan priestess and locked her in a tower where he set up a bunch of gold idols.  He commanded Christina to burn incense and worship before them.  At some point an angel visits Christina and instructs her in Christianity.  So, Christina smashes all the idols in the room and her father is not happy.  He has her tortured in all kinds of fun Roman ways including iron hooks, grilling by fire, placement in a furnace, torture on the wheel, assault by snakes, assailment by arrows, drowning tied to a millstone, and other assorted methods through which, as the story goes, Christina survives by her own strength of faith in God.  

These female martyrs were probably some of the first recorded feminists.  The weren't fighting for out-right gender equality, but they were persecuted all the more harshly for being women and sticking up for what they felt was important.  And these women were tortured by people they knew- their families, their towns, their local government officials.  Tough stuff.  Glad I don't have to hear about this anymore!

But then I hear their names, new names that have been etched into my memory.  Beautiful names...  Amina, Jyoti, and Rehteah.  Some from far away, third world lands, one from just north of us, in first world Canada.  And these are just a clip of the ones that have made headlines. Victims of gang-rape and persecution for displaying femininity. It seems St. Christina will never be bored in heaven.  She will constantly have a flock of female souls to comfort and attend to.

There is a Latin phrase, "Caelitus mihi vires", it means "My strength is from heaven", and this is what I imagine St. Christina to being saying to herself as she was publically humiliated and tortured by her father.  "Caelitus mihi vires", she probably whispered to herself over and over again. "Caelitus mihi vires", were probably the last words on her lips as she saw the face of God and gave herself over to Him. 

And now, over the centuries, she sees her sisters' suffering and whispers "Caelitus mihi vires" to them as they are gang raped with a lead pipe, bullied at school, stoned to death, have acid thrown on them, are sold into the sex trade, or left in a gutter as a infant to die.

I think of St. Christina and her company of souls taken too early and too harshly and I know that I have no daughters to teach, no young girls minds to shape, and no feminine virtue to protect.  But I do have sons, lots of sons, and they can be enablers of righteousness.  So, I turn to my oldest son as we are (of course) driving in the mini-van, where my children are strapped in and forced to listen to me. I decide I must talk to him about safe sex.  Not personal safe sex, but concern for the safety of others.  I talk to him about gang-rape, date-rape, intoxicated girls, how to talk to male friends about leaving drunk girls alone. I talk about what to do if you hear of someone who was date-raped.  I talk to him about what to do if he sees pictures on phones or social media. I talk to him about what to do if he is somewhere and he thinks a girl is in trouble.  At one point he asks me, "What if she is slutty and I think she's agreeing to whatever?"  I told him, "Her sexual choices do not make her less of a person or less of a victim. If you have any question about whether she knows what's she's doing, you go get help."

More parents need to have these discussions.  Daughter's get lots of talks about personal safety, but our sons don't - they get handed a condom and a pat on the back.  Most of our sons will not be rapists, but they could easily be the kid who doesn't do anything to stop it, or laughs along at the pictures, or avoids eye contact with her in the hall-way because the whole school knows what happened. Your son could easily fall into a large group of people who force St. Christina to whisper, "Caelitus mihi vires" into the heart of a broken young women.

So, tomorrow night I will be Natalie's sponsor... beautiful, smart, Natalie.  The kid who tells me that Math is her worst subject, and I commiserate until I find out that "honors math" is her worst subject.  Her parents are liberal.  My brother started a scrap-book when she was a baby full of news articles about what a dummy GW Bush is and every bad Republican policy and funny comics to go along with it all.  My sister-in-law owns a book titled something like, "So, You Married a Socialist." They are also obviously Catholic, so my dear niece is being raised with mixture of liberalism and Catholicism.  And let me tell you, from personal experience, that is not an easy place to be. 

Being a liberal and a practicing Catholic, I never seem to fit in anywhere.  In the midst of my two favorite groupings I am forever uncomfortable. But, I am generally an awkward person, so I wear uncomfortable like an old pair of sneakers. Natalie is anything but awkward, she will be strong women in whatever she believes and feels for.  And her heart is good, so no matter what she does, it will be with a good heart.  Her martyr saint, Christina, will be watching her and anytime Natalie comes across fork in the road or a large speed-bump, I hope she pulls her strength from heaven and carries on.

Tomorrow night I will walk with Natalie up the aisle with my right hand on her right shoulder and present her to the bishop, who will call her "Christina".  A good name, a strong name, and name dripping with femine ferocity and Godly strength. To Natalie and all young women and men of burgeoning principle - look out for each other, don't let fear or ridicule compromise your principles and goodness, and in your deepest moments of despair and confusion remember to say, "Caelitus mihi vires".  It's one of those Catholic phrases that's cool and scary for all the same reasons.