Confirmed

By Amy Frykholm

I had never been an official member of a church until one Sunday last October.

I was baptized by my father into the Presbyterian Church as an infant, but by the time confirmation came along, I was participating wholeheartedly in a Baptist congregation. While I accepted the Baptists’ offer for another baptism, I refused the “hand of fellowship” for reasons clear only to my 12-year old mind. Twenty-some years went by. I attended Lutheran, Methodist, Quaker, Catholic and Episcopalian congregations. I had crises and renewals of faith, but I never had even an inkling of a desire to officially join anything.

My sense of my impending confirmation in the Episcopal Church was perfunctory and pragmatic in the extreme. Why not? I thought. It will help the priests with their numbers (not that they care much). I’ve already served in leadership roles in this church and it is awkward for everybody that I am not technically a member; I’ve been hanging around for seven years and don’t seem likely to move on soon. My husband asked if he should be at the church for the rite. My in-laws called in to see if I wanted some family support. “No, no,” I told everybody. “This isn’t a big deal. It’s just something I need to do.”

Sunday morning, our collection of confirmands gathered to meet with the bishop before the service. As he gave us the opportunity to express what confirmation was for us, I squirmed a little. One man, a Vietnam veteran in lifelong recovery from posttraumatic stress disorder, said, “For our confirmation class, we had to pick out a story that had meaning for us and I picked the creation story. I picked it because it is like my story. Before I came to this church, I was void and formless. I feel like God moved over my waters and gave me a shape.” Another man, who cannot attend church regularly because of the terms of his probation, said, “This is my family. This is my home. Without these people, I wouldn’t even know my own story.” Another woman said, “This is the first place where I have felt entirely accepted for who I am. My questions, my doubts, my fears—they are accepted.” On and on it went, each person finding very personal poetry to express confirmation to the church. I still felt wordless myself. I’m glad my answer to his question is not recorded anywhere.

But after it was over, after the oil was placed on my head and I had heard the words of confirmation, I came home and remembered something that Stan Wilson had written, right here on Theolog. In chapter 29, Jeremiah gives words of instruction to people in exile: “Build houses and live in them, plant gardens and eat their produce. . . .Seek the shalom of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf; for in its shalom shall be your shalom.” In this, I finally understood something about my own story. Among these people, among their stories and heartaches and questions and struggles, I could find—indeed have already sometimes found—my shalom. It isn’t perfect, it isn’t always articulate, but it is, in fact, confirmation.

Comments

[Susan Mitchell]

Dear Amy, Thank you for your story of your confirmation. I was baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran Church, and for 8 years of young adulthood, my family and I found ourselves in the same sort of situation--needing to join the Episcopal Church and agreeing to be confirmed again--in the mid-70's, before Called to Common Mission--the rector told us we needed to have the bishop confirm us. It was a marvelous service, but made all the more glorious for me because at 7 a.m., I received a phone call from a very sick organist: would I play the service and accompany the choir, doing very special music because the bishop would be there? Sure, I weakly said...and thus my confirmation was a double dipping--sharing my gift of music (on short notice!) and being "pressed" into membership by the bishop of the Diocese of Arkansas! Our 8 years there made me realize more clearly how important membership in the church, the body of Christ, is. I cherish the memory of my confirmation day #2!

[Jason Byassee]

I never was confirmed Amy, wasn't in a confirming-sort-of-church as a teen, maybe I missed out on something? It has always seemed like a sort of pat rite that accomplishes nothing. Effectively seminary was confirmation for me.

[Celeste]

These thoughts on confirmation are helpful to me as I consider whether to become a member of my individual congregation and, at the same time, the broader denomination of which it is a part. The process isn't only about joining a roster of members, but about tying one's well-being and shalom into an imperfect yet grace-filled part of the body of Christ.

[Monte Asbury]

Beautiful and helpful. I am a pastor who struggles - to my denom's dismay, I guess - with the question of membership's meaning. Your story is one in which it is more than organizational self aggrandizement.

[Lillian Daniel]

My understanding of the Episcopal process is that they require confirmation of adults even when they have been confirmed already in other denominations. Is that correct?

[Ellie]

No, Lillian, it is not. All that is necessary is baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Membersjhip comes with transfer from your former church or Parish. Many, if not most, people want to make an adult commitment. That is confirmation for those already baptised and "on the books", reception from another church where you were already confirmed, or a re-affirmation for people who felt they were too young at their confirmation to really know what they were doing. Congregations may differ in whether you may receive communion if you are unbaptised. I think the key for "joining" the Episcopal Church (someone correct me if I have it wrong) is that you are not already being counted as a member someplace else. In my diocese, "All are welcome at the table."