A couple of months ago, I got a call from a friend of mine, Mary Dickau, chaplain at Beulah Gardens, a Baptist-affiliated assisted-living residence in East Vancouver. One of the residents, Norah Dennis, 92 and blind, had told her that she had promised her mother, who died more than 40 years ago, that she would be confirmed. She had been baptized as an infant in England; but as so often happens, what with the Depression, WWII, and the family’s move to Canada, her confirmation just hadn’t happened.
Mary called me, because she wanted to know what confirmation was about for Anglicans, and whether it would be possible for Norah to be confirmed. So I wrote our bishop about this: OK to confirm just one candidate? Of course—see on this Matthew 18:12-14; and after a number of weeks and about 40 emails, the day came: November 9, 3pm, at Beulah Gardens. A dozen or so of Norah’s fellow residents were there to celebrate with her.It’s Bishop Melissa’s custom not to take episcopal gear with her to parish occasions, but to wear liturgically whatever is worn in the parish. She did have her alb, but nothing more. So might I have brought a stole? Yes, for myself, which of course I would have cheerfully lent her. But my sister, Helen Williams, queen of the altar guild at the cathedral, just happened to have a stole in her purse (the kind of purse which also has room for a chain-saw, an earthquake kit, and so on); and so the bishop was properly accoutred and the service proceeded.
Mary introduced Bishop Melissa as “our Anglican bishop”—note the “our”: a nice ecumenical touch, and the service proceeded. Another nice touch: for the clip-art graphic on the service leaflet, Mary had found a graphic showing a very clearly female bishop doing a confirmation!
In her address, Bishop Melissa told the little congregation something of the meaning of confirmation for us: that it’s an acceptance for ourselves of the vows made for us by our parents, in the case of infant baptism, which had been Norah’s situation. She told a story about teaching a nine-year-old girl in one of her former parishes how to light a candle without burning yourself, which the girl did not do without shaking hands and some beads of sweat on her forehead. But sweat or shaking hands notwithstanding, all of us, now including Norah, are invited by our acceptance in confirmation of our membership in the community of the baptized to live out our faith in daily life, to light a candle where light may be needed. (Hmm. Why didn’t we sing “Jesus bids us shine / with a pure clear light: / like a little candle, burning in the night?” In fact we sang three classic hymns, quite lustily for a small group, with Mary at the piano.)
After the service, Norah told my sister that she felt “complete”—a wonderful comment. We shared a magnificent, fruit-laden cake from a Chinese bakery, and a cup of tea. It was a beautiful occasion, indeed a moving occasion--one of Jesus’s little lambs, aged 92, finally confirmed. Thank you, Norah, thank you, Mary, thank you, my sister, and thank you, Bishop Melissa, for a beautiful celebration of faith.
The moral of the story? You’re never too old, as declared in the first reading, chosen by Mary (Isaiah 46:3-9): “Listen to me, O house of Jacob … who have been borne by me from your birth …; even to your old age I am [God], even when you turn grey I will carry you.” Good news at any age, and especially when you are 92.
Images: Top and homepage, Mary Dickau, Norah Dennis, Bishop Melissa and standing in the centre, the author. Right, Bishop Melissa tells the story of the fledgling acolyte. Lower left, the female bishop clipart. Below, a celebratory cake.