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First Holy Communion is a fete of children’s innocence and a celebration of the values of life they would have learnt so far; all of which will help them in their stead as they grow more and more independent.[/attach]

The older I grow the more I find myself worrying about how we are increasingly ignoring our roots and consequently becoming a shallower society. Conversations these days are largely superficial; our politicians’ speeches ring hollow, bereft of philosophical wisdom, of historical references and of cultural inferences.

This in turn leads to callow suggestions. Like carnival.

Last week’s news that the Government is toying with the idea of holding three carnivals in a year saddened me no end. Clearly whoever came up with the brainwave has no idea of the significance of this celebration.

The very reason for carnival lies in its etymology: carne and vale, Latin for ‘farewell to meat’ and ‘flesh’. It always was a celebration when merrymakers were encouraged to be carefree and also to indulge in meat, before Lent – the time when fish was consumed.

Christmas! It’s such a boost for the economy, let’s do one in summer too

The reason for this was not merely for fasting purposes. Scholars believe that even hundreds of years ago it was important for people’s health to impose restrictions on excessive meat consumption.

This festival dates way back to pre-Christian time – that includes the rites of wearing masks – and it was gradually adapted into Christendom to rev up the long dull winters.

For centuries, Carnival has had a special slot in the calendar: always six-and-a-half weeks before Easter. Which means that even though now we have artificial lighting to cosy up our winter nights, and even though we all forego Lent because anyway we diet-fast all year round, there can be no juggling around with carnival dates. Of course this does not mean we should not hold festivals with floats at any other time throughout the year, but it means that we cannot call them carnivals. There is only one specific time when Carnival can be held and that is before the start of Lent, from Friday to Tuesday, just before Ash Wednesday.

Within seconds that the news was out, I got a call from a friend with whom I’d studied medieval history back in my student days: “You know? Good Friday processions are great tourist attractions, let’s hold 10 a year. Or Christmas! It’s such a boost for the economy, let’s do one in summer too.”

We cannot simply multiply or diss any historical, cultural and religious celebration on a whim, because they are what makes us.

Which brings me to the topic I originally wanted to write about this week, also a Christian celebration. This evening my daughter will be celebrating her first Holy Communion, and admittedly I am very excited.

Now, I am not an overtly religious person. Far from it. I get an itch when I hear people holding dramatic public prayer meetings and other clap-happy stuff (with the exception of Gianluca, for whom I have a soft spot). Each to his own and all that, but I have learnt that in life there is nothing better than balance.

In any case, what I’m trying to say is that even though I’m not bouncing with religious fervour, I think the First Holy Communion is of utmost significance not only from a Catholic point of view, but mainly from an ethnological angle.

First off, it is a communal celebration – it grounds us to the fact that we are part of a group, and not lone individuals. It is for this reason that my friends and I opted to take our children to the same chapel for Catechism: we wanted to mark the milestone together.

Second, there’s the ritual: we had fun choosing the dress, and the flower hair band and the veil. For many years I sneered at the extravagant attires and the elaborate upstyles on six-year olds, but now I understand, and accept, that on a day like this, what we dress our children purely reflects the parents’ personality (the cartoon above is my sister’s sketch of Pippa’s day. See the dress? That’s the Jane-Austen-and-flower-power-girl in me).

Thirdly, it’s a rite of passage. It’s a fete of children’s innocence and a celebration of the values of life they would have learnt so far; all of which will help them in their stead as they grow more and more independent.

Even as I write I can feel tiny tears pricking my eyes, so I won’t even think about the angelic singing this evening or I won’t finish this column off.

The bottom line is that ceremonies and celebrations that belong to the society should be respected, and their historical, cultural and religious aspects honoured. This is what gives us roots, as opposed to living in a vacuum.

But it’s mostly important for our children – tomorrow’s leaders and tomorrow’s culture ministers. They need to have a sense of belonging and a sense of respect towards the past and the future because only that would make them wiser leaders than we can ever be.

krischetcuti@gmail.com