Confirmation

Tomorrow is confirmation at our church. Another round of teens will be promising to be faithful to the death and then disappear. Sorry sound somewhat cynical, but last year there were still confirmation pictures waiting to be picked up in the church office at least 3 months after confirmation.
Due to a calendar error, our church musician scheduled the school’s 3rd and 4th graders to sing for church on the same day. The mistake was realized, and the children were moved from the late service to the early service so that they could still sing. Not a big deal, except one family has a 4th grader and a confirmand. The grandma called the school up in arms: how can one expect us to do everything, we’re not the only family with this problem (actually, they are), we’ve got family in town, so on and so forth. Then mom called: confirmation is a big deal to us, how can we have one kid singing in 8 o’clock and one getting confirmed at 10:30. . . I advised them to deal with the music director directly, who said not to worry about the 4th grader showing up for the early service.
I got to wondering, however wrong it may be, why confirmation is such a big deal. I know why it was a big deal for me, but what about the family of the afore stated confirmee who had trouble getting the required number of sermon reports done? Why? Because nobody brought the child to church (too far to walk, and 8th graders can’t drive) so that the reports could be completed. (Sorry for the passive sentence, Mrs. Mills!)
Obviously this is not the only family in our church, our church body, or even any church with the same issue. Why do people put so much stock in confirmation, only to leave it alone? Confirmation means “to make sure or firm”. It’s like when you confirm your flight. Okay, I’m going to check in on line and then not show up for my flight. Um, doesn’t that defeat the purpose? Now I’m going to say, yes, this is what I believe, I want to be a part of this church, I will defend my faith to the death, and never come back. Huh? Also defeats the purpose. I guess it's the same approach to wedding vows these days--you know that "until death" thing I promised? I didn't really mean it. . .
So, how do you get rid of bats in your belfry? Confirm them, they’ll never come back. You know, that joke isn’t so funny anymore. . .