Pagan rituals

Rico says that the presiding Deacon, a nice Irishman named McGrath, would doubtless protest any 'pagan' assertion, but then he's Catholic...

The event of yesterday (being a Sunday) was the baptism (by oil and water, not fire) of the ladyfriend's second grandchild, a boy.
The location was the local parish of the twice-Italian parents, though we had to dodge the flood of Hispanic parishioners coming out of the Spanish-language Mass held just prior to our arrival.
There was another innocent child (with, Rico must report, an extremely hot mother, who looked amazing for being only three months post-partum) being forcibly introduced to religion that day, but she slept through the whole affair.
The church proceedings (with no one being able to hear the soft-spoken deacon past the first pew) were followed by lunch (though no golf, surprisingly, not even a round by the father, whose Sundays always include at least nine holes) at the family country club. Admittedly, lunch for fifty or so can't be cheap, but it was arguably the worst non-prison meal Rico has had; it was definitely not a Jewish event.

While Rico abhors religion in all its myriad forms, he reserves a special loathing for Catholics, who bring their own height of hypocrisy to the process...