In a bold and risky move, my sister asked me to be godfather to her child.
The role of godparent in my family typically consists of sending a card and a check every birthday. Once you pass the age of 50, you have an excuse to forget the money. With 60 goes the card. Seventy, the name completely.
A godparent is also a "vice parent" in that I would have to take responsibility for the kid if anything were to happen to my sister and brother-in-law. Yikes. That baby better know how to change diapers. Hell, I can't even change mine.
Most importantly, according to my sister, as godfather I will need to be a Christian role model for her child.
Woah, there.
After three years of freedom from a Roman Catholic upbringing, the Church to me is now a lot like Santa Claus. It always makes you feel warm during the holidays, but let's be honest - the magic's gone.
I try to go to church every now and then, and it feels like walking through my old high school. The sense of familiarity and nostalgia lasts for only so long until a 50-something in a seasonal sweater hooks you by the arm and barks at you to take off the hat.
Remembering the prayers and exercise routine (sit-stand-kneel) is easy enough, but my mind keeps drifting away from the priest's sermon and toward the knock-out sitting next to me in the pew. Not even in church am I safe from forbidden fruit.
Sure, I still see myself as a Catholic. I can still recite the Our Father and Hail Mary in two different languages, and I carry myself around with a great deal of guilt. And no one's cooler than the pope.
I just don't buy the whole charade. To me, faith is a personal matter meant to provide comfort and guidance. Catholic mass, on the other hand, resembles a hybrid between an AA meeting and a check-in with a parole officer with hymn books and a tip jar.
How am I supposed to be a good Catholic role model for my godchild? Children need that "God is watching you" paranoia to keep them under control. With my heretical skepticism, you can bet that kid will be holding up 7-Elevens by age six.
I suppose I'll have to suck it up and wake up early on Sunday mornings for my godchild's sake. That kid can't afford a Christmas-and-Easter Catholic for a godfather.
It's time I started acting more like a godparent and less like a vice-parent.
