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cathederal chapter

There is something that might be said about the Pope and the 'culture of life', given those two prominant deaths in the last few days. But what can I add that hasn't already been commented to death by the hordes of the chattering classes? Oh, alright, maybe there is something. I may write it later.

But now we have other stories to fry, because there was a big Confirmation service up at the cathederal (St Pauls in Boston, if you're keeping score at home) this morning, which I was involved in as a sponsor and as, so I found out when I arrived there this morning, as a reader. The sponsor business was much more important--for those of you not familiar with our Episcopalian jargon, it doesn't refer to any commercial support of the event on my part, but rather to the fact that I am apparently now considered an adult sufficiently responsible to guide and lead one of the young people of the parish to the confirmation of his baptismal vows, and the assumption of his full membership in the church community.

Phew, where did that sentence start?! That's what I get for having to try and figure out the bit of Paul's letter to the Ephesians they thrust into my hands and told me I had to read out to the crowd, which at the point of receiving the assignment I imagined to be of some considerable size. I figured it out in the end, though, or rather I figured out how to say it: I didn't have any time to bother with attempting any understanding of the text. I brought the piece of paper they gave me home, though, so I can peruse it at my leisure. In any case, folks approached me to tell me I did a good job at it, even some folks I didn't know, so unless I was so bad they felt the need to salve my fragile self-esteem things must have gone well enough. I'll tell you, though, I didn't try and look up from that piece of paper once, from when I got up from the lectern till I was through with the reading. No need to make things any more difficult!

There is much to tell about the confirmation business itself, and about the lunch to which I was treated afterwords, but as I suspect that will be less interesting to the general audience I will keep it to myself for the nonce.

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