When our daughter was an infant, Carol and I wanted to please our Catholic mothers by arranging our child’s baptism. We made an appointment to see Father Holland at our local parish (the same Catholic church in which 52 year old Pierre Trudeau married 23 year old Margaret Sinclair, but I digress). I figured it’d be a meet ’n’ greet, fill out a couple of forms, choose the baptism date, easy-peasy. Father Holland was a soft-spoken, rotund man in his 60s, with that blank expression many priests have which says they’re trying hard not to judge you, but you know it’s in their job description so they’re doing it anyway. We sat across from Father Holland at a scratched table in the Sunday School hall attached to the church offices. Crude, child-drawn pictures of Jesus with blood running from his brow and hands adorned the walls.
“It’s nice to meet you Carol and Bill. Before we get started, I’d like you to watch this short presentation about baptism.” From a cupboard, Father Holland brought a cassette recorder and an ancient slide projector, the kind with a circular carousel on top. I’d last seen this projector in elementary school, in the late ‘60s. He drew the blinds and pulled a string which unrolled a white screen from the ceiling.
“Every time you hear a beep on the tape recorder,” said the priest, “click on this little button and the next slide will pop in.” He switch off the lights, started the tape, and shuffled out of the room.
Father Holland left us alone to watch his baptism slide show entitled something like, “Your Child Won’t Rot in Purgatory.” The story was comically outdated, by all evidence produced in 1940. In every scene, the wife wore a dress, high heels, a frilly apron and yellow rubber gloves…because she was always washing dishes.
Watching those slides, I was taken back in time to Ascension Catholic Elementary School. Each week in religion class, we were entertained by similar slide shows with uplifting titles such as:
Resist Temptation
Creation: The Real Story
When Man Walked With Dinosaurs
Suppress Those Feelings
Mary’s Special Friend
Your Duty To The Priesthood (striking fear in alter boys everywhere)
We loved those slide shows in the way movie buff hipsters flock to see Plan 9 From Outer Space, a movie so bad it’s great. However, what we liked most about the slide presentations is that they invariably resulted in chaos. This was because class clown Marcel Thibault could perfectly imitate the tape recorded ‘beep,’ the beep that told Sister Theophane to advance to the next slide. Marcel always sat at the back of the darkened classroom, and it was impossible to distinguish where his beep came from…he could throw his beeps, like a ventriloquist. He made untimely beeps, causing the nun to advance the slides at all the wrong times. The slides became hopelessly unsynchronized with the narrator’s voice. Sister Theophane became frustrated and confused, and general hilarity ensued. This happened every week.
Back to Father Holland, who re-entered the hall once the baptism slide show ended. He held a form secured by a clipboard, and asked for some basic information.
“…and where did you two get married?” asked the priest, pen poised.
“In Huatulco, Mexico,” said Carol.
“In which church?”
“We eloped,” I said. “A Justice of the Peace married us on the balcony of our hotel room.”
“Oh. Oh my,” said father Holland. “That will never do. You’re not married then. Okay, well, the first thing is that I will have to marry you in this church.”
“But we’re already married…”
“And before you two can get married here, you will both have to take the marriage preparation course.” Father Holland folded his hands on the desk. “Which I will teach you.”
“Let me get this straight.” I could feel my heat quickly rising. “I’ve been in a monogamous, loving relationship with my girlfriend, now wife, for 11 years. You, single, never married, and celibate, YOU are going to teach ME how to live in a committed relationship with a woman.”
“The course is only 6 weeks. I’m confident you’ll pass if you have an open mind.”
I calmed myself, and let father Holland drone on about the marriage course he was going to teach to a couple married already a year, and who dated for 10 years before that (don’t judge me, that’s my mother’s job). I didn’t want to cause a scene, in a church, but then the meeting veered on a bizarre tangent. In the middle of nattering about Catholic education and our obligations to our child, Father Holland pronounced that the Harry Potter series was the work of the devil. He forbade any Catholic child to read the books or watch the movies. Now, I am prepared to listen to differing opinions, and suffer some lonely priest devaluing the relationship I have with my wife, but I’ll be damned if I’ll sit quietly while anyone disparages Harry Potter. There’s only so much a guy can take. Our friendly baptism education session took a dark turn at that point.
Suffice to say, we weren’t remarried, neither of our children are baptized, and except for weddings and funerals, I haven’t darkened a church door since.