My friend Claire had been Catholic her whole life, although never officially baptized, so to make it official, she was getting baptized, confirmed, and communionized– a full work up– at Notre Dame Cathedral in New York City. I put on my Sunday best, and set off for the Cathedral. 

To the untrained eye, a Catholic mass is a bunch of people bobbing up and down in a gymnastics display, because, I suppose, physical exertion shows devotion to God. As a board certified Catholic, I knew when to kneel, cross myself, sit, and stand. No mean feat.

I was familiar, also, with the confirmation process, having been the sponsor for my cousin in Boston, which feels like a very Boston thing to say. She’d chosen Joan of Arc as her patron saint– the patron saint of bad bitches. (And some other stuff probably too)

The officiant of the mass was a bishop who’d served faithfully as UN Ambassador to the Pope for years. He was the Permanent Observer of the Holy See to the United Nations, representing the Vatican to the world.

Anyways, I asked him where the bathroom was. 

This was before mass started so I hadn’t yet heard his resume. 

His sermon dealt with how lucky we all were to be there in that church, miles away from Russia, Ukraine, and The Holy Land, how we were amongst the most privileged in the world. His point was unclear to me, as I sit here and try to type it out, but my guess is that his point was about how we should recognize this privilege and be grateful for our lives.

Afterwards, we had a big feast at Claire’s house. I was not sure what one gives as a gift for an adult baptism, but I went with a bottle of Prosecco. I was not given a bottle of wine when I was baptized at six months old, though I wouldn’t put it past some of the people in my family. 

One day, when I was still too young to wipe the drool off my chin, I was dunked in water in a white dress and everyone around me clapped. Claire joined the church with a bang, with a celebration that she could actually partake in. 

So welcome to the club, Claire! There’s about a billion of us. 

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel