In a little over a week, our beloved Bishop will be coming to the island. During his time here we will be having a Confirmation service. For many who were not raised within the Anglican tradition, Confirmation may sound very Romish and may, at least, raise an eyebrow. What IS confirmation, exactly?
Confirmation is a historical Christian practice, dating back to the early days of the Church, in which a Bishop lays hands-on and anoints the people in a Church who have been baptized (as new believers or as infants) and who, having matured and been discipled, now wish to claim their infant (in both a spiritual and physical sense) faith.
It is the response of a baptized believer to the love God demonstrated towards them in His Baptizing of them. It is our public, and adult, declaration that we now choose to walk-out in the fullness of our citizenship. If Baptism is a new birth, a "being born" of sorts, then Confirmation is a coming of age, a rite-of-passage, in the kingdom of God.
One can also think of Confirmation as a king of "lay Ordination" for the people of God. God has not called everyone to roles of liturgical/sacramental/ecclesial leadership, but all of His people are called to roles of liturgical/sacramental/ecclesial service. Not everyone is supposed to be a priest in a symbolic and authoritative way, but all Christian people are called to the “priesthood of all believers.” In confirmation God commissions you for the life and work of the people of God.
But it is also a blessing, it is an affirmation, it confirms something in you and for you: The Bishop, standing in the place of the Apostles, places his hands upon you, looks you in the eye, and "confirms" that you are in fact a child of God, that you are in fact, called by Him, and that the Spirit really is alive in you. Against all of our worrying about whether or not we are in the kingdom of God, of whether or not he loves us, of whether or not "its all real", in all of those dark days of doubt which sometimes plague the Christian life, Confirmation is that sign, that proof, that witness, which promises us that the answer to our questions is a glad and welcome "Yes, indeed."
The difficulty with understanding Confirmation is that we live in an cultural moment where there is a dearth of rites-of-passage. What makes one an adult? What makes one a citizen? What threshold marks my transition, for instance, from boyhood to manhood?
For our ancestors, a physical rite, usually involving blood of some kind, marked our passage into adulthood, into participation in the adult community of our people. But what about now? What rites are available to us in this excarnated age?
Is it turning 18 and being able to vote? …What if I don’t vote? What if the election year falls weirdly and comes when I am 17, and I need to wait to vote for president until I am 21? Is it turning 21 and being able to drink? What if I don’t drink? Is it prom night? Is it my first kiss? Is it sleeping with someone? What if I die a virgin, will I ever be an adult?
Both the pseudo rites of contemporaneity, and the blood rites of antiquity, however all lacked something. Each in their own ways were insufficient. And so we seek to fill the vacuum, inventing rites or purchasing commodities and investing them with ritual power (i.e. buying my first car, getting my ear pierced). “Now I am an adult” we say. But we do not trust what we say. Because we do not trust the internal echo of our own voice. Self cannot validate the self’s passage through life, it is biased in all of the wrong ways, and powerless in the most crucial moments.
I may say, “now I am an adult” or “now I know God loves me” or “this is the sign of the Holy Spirit’s work in me”. But my internal reassurance is flaccid and I am tortured by the question: “Are you sure about that?”
Confirmation, however, is objective. It occurs both inside and outside of us. It is a thing that is witnessed both by us and for us by others. Here, none of my blood is shed (for I have come to know the inefficacy of my own blood). Here nothing is bought to prove anything to me (for I have come to know the inefficacy of that which I am able to purchase).
Instead, we identify Another’s Blood. We remember the Great Washing we have undergone. We remake the vows made over us at the infancy of our spiritual life (when we were babies or, at least, babies in the Faith). We recite the words of a Creed which we did not make but which, conversely, has been at work re-making us. Oil from the hands of an Apostolic father, entrusted with guarding the Faith “once and for all delivered to the saints” (cf. Jude 1.3) is placed upon us in the victorious sign of the Cross. We are looked in the eye. We are called by name.
It is simultaneously active and passive: I have chosen, I have decided, I have come to this place. But it is also passive: I was called, I respond, I receive, I am witnessed.
It marks our passage into participation in the adult community of the People of God. It anchors our memory to a moment when a real human, filled with the Holy Spirit, anointed with apostolic authority, touched, and spoke, and anointed, and blessed us.
And it is a moment to which our brothers and sisters in the faith can call us in times of temptation and hopelessness. “I was there” they can say “I saw you. I remember.” It is a day they will carry for us at those times when we cannot carry it for ourselves.