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Looking Back: The Lighter Side of Baptism

From 1983

The Lighter Side of Baptism

By George W. Baird

 

At Kirkmichael my first baptism of twins, Jean and Alexander, at the farm of Glenlochy. The hearth there is wide enough to take two long tree trunks, with kerbs at the side where people sit. All gathered round a groaning table for the feast of country fare.

Most baptisms were in homes then. For my next outing I cycled and walked three miles along grassy tracks, the font strapped to the carrier. On the way home I had to go careful with the gift of eggs.

They tell there of a family across the water coming with an infant for baptism. When they got to the ford below the church, the Aven was in spate, and they couldn’t win across. Word was sent to the minister. Down he went to the river, at a narrow part. “Hold the bairn up,” he called. Thereupon he flung a jugful of water across, to sprinkle and christen the child.

Unexpected

In Motherwell I would be stopped in the street by a proud granny. “Oor Jeannie’s got a wee laddie; away roon and see aboot the christening.” I wondered as I went: “Why the haste?” I learnt that, being a mixed marriage, I was to get in before the priest.

What a boom the portable microphone had in St Andrew’s Church there! It hung around my neck and could plug in at the font. A surprise, however, when a sitting up infant on my arm grabbed this new toy to play with. The mother quickly came to the rescue of the minister.

In bygone Buchan the minister had called to baptise a child. John, the father, had taken a good dram to fortify himself. The minister was angry. “The baptism must be postponed,” he announced, “this man is not in a fit state to hold up his child.” “Nae fit tae hud up the littlin?” cried John. “Let’s see a haud o’t.”

Repeatedly tossing it up to the ceiling and catching it again, he went on, “Man I could haud up a bull calf.”

A minister had done his duty at the font and the parents with babies had settled in their seats. In his usual loud delivery, he was well into his sermon when a baby started to cry. The mother rose to leave. “It’s all right, my dear.” Said the minister. “The baby is not bothering me.” “Maybe not, “ answered the mother as she left, "but you’re definitely bothering the baby.”

Names can be a bother. The local butcher and his wife presented their twin infants at the church for christening. “What are their names?” asked the minister. “Steak and kidney,” blurted the nervous father. “Joe, you fool,” whispered his wife fiercely. “It’s Kate and Sydney.”

As the minister at the font asked the name of the child, the proud mother replied, “Onyx.” Later in the vestry he remarked on the unusual name. “Oh”, said the mother, “it’s like this. This one came unexpectedly.”

Still Counting

Finally, two stories from earlier times. A minister in the north, had occasion to baptise a baby in a home as was the custom then. Having done so, he said, “I will now have to receive my usual kiss.” The blushing mother immediately held up her face to the minister. He, quite astonished, said “It’s the baby I mean.”

Joseph Edwards, head miller at Partick Mills, was about to become a father once more. In due time the midwife came to say that he had got a child. A short time later she told him of another child, and a little while after, a third. Poor Joseph put on his jacket and went for a walk. Passing by the manse he went in to see the minister, the Rev Lawrence Hill of the Barony.

“I’ve come to see if you would baptise a wheen weans to me.”

“A when what?” said the minister.

“A wheen weans,” replied Joseph.

“How many have ye?” asked Mr Hill.

“Sir,” replied Joseph, “there were three when I cam awa, but I dinna ken how many mair might be comin’ by the time I gang back.”

 

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