Three Sundays ago, we welcomed my daughter into the Catholic Church through her Baptism. My wife and I were very excited to do this, and the Church, our priest, and the sacrament did not disappoint.
I spend a lot of time worrying about, and attempting to diagnose, the Church’s current problems along with those of the world today. The Church, has appeared to me over time, has been the last bastion of hope in a post-modern world obsessed with finding meaning through money, sex, and power. No longer, it seems–the Church seems to be punting on its role in the world: easing up on granting annulments, declaring the death penalty “inadmissible,” ignoring the problems surrounding homosexuals in the priesthood, and continuing to cover-up abuse scandals are the norm now. Sometimes I get angry. Other times I am just sad. As the baby’s Baptism approached, I grew a bit nervous. “How would it feel to bring a child into this faith?” I asked myself. I knew I wanted her baptized, but I’ve just been very frustrated with the Church.
The night before the Baptism, I was straightening my office up a bit and found one of my old dog tags from the Marine Corps. I picked it up and held it in my hands—two words jumped out at me. I ran my fingers over the stamped words “Roman Catholic.” I sat down in my chair and felt a calm feeling come over me. For some reason finding that dog tag put my mind at ease. I remember selecting “Roman Catholic” for my dog tag despite not being in a particularly religious state at that time in my life. I was happy and realized that I needed to focus on rejoicing at my daughter becoming a Christian.
The baptism took place at our parish on the third Sunday of Advent. This day in the Church calendar (the third of four Sundays in Advent) is the Gaudete Sunday. The word Gaudete means “Rejoice” in Latin. Believe it or not, Advent is supposed to be a season of preparation for Christmas and is not, as most have come to believe, part of the “Christmas Season.” The Church’s Christmas season in the Church actually begins on December 25th and, in 2018-2019, extends until January 13th. Advent was historically a time of fasting and preparation for the Christmas celebration. Gaudete Sunday was a day to put aside the rigors of fasting and “Rejoice.” And rejoice we did. What a wonderful day we had.
We were surprised, after sending out a simple e-mail to our extended family and some friends a few weeks in advance announcing the Baptism, how many people showed up—including family from two hours’ drive away. As Mass started, I looked behind us, and the pews were full of 50+ attendees to see our daughter, A, be baptized.
My wife commented on something I missed: the Gospel centered on Baptism. In it, John the Baptist answers the crowd’s musings that he may be the Messiah:
“I am baptizing you with water, but one mightier than I is coming. I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fan is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” Luke 3:16-17.
During the homily, our priest welcomed both families and had us stand up with Baby A and her godparents for the parish to recognize. The priest—a friend I’ve gotten to know over the years—roasted me and my wife a bit and then got serious. His homily was wonderful and welcoming—a thing all the non-Catholic attendees recognized and commented on afterwards. Even though Baptisms may not occur during Mass in Advent, he leg the congregation in recognizing us during Mass as though the Baptism had occurred. After Mass, he performed the Baptism rite. The rite was beautiful and meaningful for everyone there.
I’d also note that this day was a wonderful day of Evangelizing for the Church. Not only did we bring in a new member to the Church, but the Church (modeled after the Cathedral of St. Paul in—you guessed it—St. Paul, Minnesota—one of the most beautiful buildings in the world), the priest, and our parishioners all spoke to the non-Catholics in a meaningful way.
And that brings me to my little Baby A. I don’t know when or if she’ll ever read this, but little girl, you are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to your mom and me. We wanted you baptized so that you would always know where your home is. We pray for you every day and desperately hope you seek out a life following Jesus in whatever vocation you pursue. On your Baptism day, you were perfect. Perfect beauty, perfect little smile, perfect disposition. After the baptism, our priest held up your Baptism candle in front of you. You stared at it with focus, determination, and wonder. May you always look at the world with such focus and amazement. May you always look at your faith with such awe and wonder. You couldn’t be more perfect. May God bless you and keep you!
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Also, my wife did some nice decorating:
Thank you, Rob, for reminding us of our blessing of Baptism. I was there at A’s Baptism and the entire event was beautiful. A has so many people who love her and will guide her in her journey as a Catholic Christian woman. May God bless you and your family!
After reading your sentence, “On your Baptism day, you were perfect.” and looking back at the photo of Father holding A up in the air, I found myself crying! What a precious gift she is to the world, to the church, to the family.
You captured the meaning of the day wonderfully. Nicely done!