Churched!

Today my little Theodore and I were churched. It's rather a satisfying feeling for me. That sounds odd, but I mean I am glad to finally be in a place where I can be churched, where it's normal. I asked to be churched in the Anglican churches we went to, as soon as I read about it and found it in the prayer book. At the less (read, much less) traditional church the "priest", and I say that in quotations because he later asked to be just called by his first name, and not by Father, gave me a confused look when I asked about churching. At the more traditional Anglican church, where the priest taught catechism with a Roman Catholic book, and the congregation liked to pretend Anglo-Catholicism exists, the priest was at least aware of the existence of the practice anciently, but he had never done it and wasn't too interested in it. I am glad, now, to be actually churched, and to watch my son carried through the altar. Theodore smiled big at our gentle priest, and didn't make a peep. As soon as his churching was over, several women converged upon us to hold him. I watched my littlest boy gazing up at Christ Pantocrater on the ceiling in wonder from a good friend's arms. It was sweet to see.