Our youngest son, Andrew, is going to be confirmed next Saturday night at the Easter Vigil. On Saturday morning we all attended the questioning of the confirmands. Watching and listening to the parents was almost as interesting as listening to the kids. Most of us walked in hoping that they wouldn't "mess up," and were probably more nervous than the kids.
At one point the dad sitting behind me muttered, "He knows this," as his son searched for an answer. I was trying to secretly signal my son to get his hands out of his pockets and spit out his gum. And one friend said that she felt like crawling under the seat while her daughter was answering.
But we all survived, parents and kids alike. And now, next Saturday night at Easter Vigil, our children will be sharing the Lord's Supper with us for the first time. I am so thankful to belong to a congregation and to have a pastor who doesn't make our children wait for some magical age to be confirmed. So often confirmation turns into a kind of "graduation." In my small confirmation class of three, I was the only one who continued attending church through my high school years, and I've seen the same thing many other times.