At this time of year, in the Easter season, 14-year-olds in Iceland confirm their faith in God. They go to church in groups, wear white robes and kneel by the altar accepting their first Holy Communion. Then, as the priest confirms their baptisms, the teenagers promise before their peers, their families and the entire congregation that they will lead lives based on Christian values and honor what they have learnt in confirmation classes.

They look so innocent in their white robes in the middle of puberty. Some of the girls are tall and sturdy and could easily pass for 18, while some of the boys look small and childish and not a day older than 12. The prematurely developed girls look like they could snap them like twigs.

They all have stylish hair, most of the girls went to a hairdresser in the morning for a perfect hairdo, and some even wear makeup and fake nails. They have expressions of anticipation on their faces, not so much because of the Christian lifestyles they have just promised to lead, but more likely because of the party awaiting them and all the presents they are about to receive. Most of these youngsters are unlikely to attend a mass again until there is a baptism, wedding or a funeral in the family.

But before the party begins and they strip off their innocence, i.e. the robes, the teenagers have their pictures taken, Bible in hand, to mark the occasion at a local photo studio. Then, with beaming smiles on their faces, wearing brand-new suits and dresses (the girls struggling with their high heels) they welcome friends and family to their homes or the venue their parents rented for the confirmation party. Some offer fancy meals, others lighter courses and cakes, but almost everyone has a Scandinavian marzipan ring cake.

Presents are lined up on the table. Sleeping bags, stereos, watches and jewelries were popular confirmation presents about a decade ago; nowadays most people just put a few banknotes into an envelope.

“They are far too young to be making such decisions,” said gothi Jóhanna Hardardóttir, a pagan priest at Ásatrúarfélagid (a religious organization for those who believe in the pagan Icelandic/Nordic gods), in regards to 14-year-olds confirming their faith in any god. Many argue that religion is not the main motif behind teenagers requesting confirmation, but rather pressure from parents, friends, the educational system as well as the thought of a fancy party and loads of presents.

Essentially, confirmation is a coming-of-age ceremony, a tradition that most communities, religious or otherwise, have in one form or the other. With such ceremonies children cease being children and step into the world of adulthood, taking on adult practices and responsibilities.

While 14 may have been a fitting milestone in that regard in the past, in modern Iceland, teenagers do not become adults in a legal sense until they are 18. At 18 they can marry, vote, drive (they can do that at 17, actually) and do whatever it is adults are permitted to do, except drink (officially, they have to wait until they’re 20 for that). 

I remember being 13, going on 14, in the smalltownish community of Akureyri. Every one of my classmates was going to get confirmed Christian style. There was no other option. I hadn’t been baptized and my parents were not Christian, which made me somewhat of an outsider.

Not that religion played such an important role in everyday life, but Christianity was preached at school (general religious studies were not on the agenda) and we were made believe that not having Jesus in our lives equaled being miserable. 

I had good friends who usually did not care if I were Christian or not, but there were times when they felt compelled to try and convince me that believing in God was the only way to go. I was torn between pleasing my friends and following the traditions of my community and agreeing with my parents who reasoned that Jesus had been an exceptionally good man but not the son of any god and that believing in the good in people was just as good as believing in a holy spirit.

I half wished that I had been baptized so that I could go through with confirmation like my peers and have a party like them.

In 1990, four years before my friends were confirmed, Sidmennt, the Icelandic Ethical Humanist Association, was founded. They offered an alternative to Christian confirmation, a coming-of-age course and ceremony for 14-year-olds, teaching them how to become responsible citizens in a democratic society, to respect other people and cultures and help them form a healthy attitude towards life. It was an alternative for those who were not Christian or not prepared to confirm their faith in God—but was only available in Reykjavík.

However, since my parents felt I should not have to decide between a Christian coming-of-age party and no party at all, they decided to use the Sidmennt course material and teach me about ethics themselves. So we went through with it and my friends and most of my extended family members seemed to approve.

I was given a brand new-outfit to wear at the party, complete with high heels, had my hair done and wore makeup for the first time. I cherished my sleeping bag, watch and stereo and used the money I received to start a university fund. Easter Sunday 1994 was a wonderful day.

Since then, having a Sidmennt confirmation has grown immensely in popularity. My cousin decided to get confirmed that way last year, having a Christian mother and a Jewish father, and we attended the ceremony where she was confirmed along with dozens of her peers in an absolutely packed lecture hall at the University of Iceland.

Hardardóttir said teenagers are also increasingly requesting pagan coming-of-age ceremonies at Ásatrúarfélagid. If that is the case, if 14-year-olds are seeking out alternatives from the Christian confirmation themselves, I don’t find them too young to decide whether to confirm their faith in God or not.

I think teenagers are fully capable of making such decisions as long as schools and families loosen their grip, accept that Iceland is becoming a multi-cultural society, and don’t just follow religious traditions blindly, but teach teenagers that there are many options to choose from.

Happy Easter everyone!

ESA – eyglo@icelandreview.com