Now my left wrist is
painful and swollen. For a millisecond, thoughts of claiming a king’s ransom in
damages troubled me, but I managed to banish them. More worrying is the status
of my plan to drive plane-mad younger son to the Royal International Air Tattoo
tomorrow, a three hour journey. We’ll see.
Last night was the Sacred
Heart Church catechists’ meeting; groups from FHC (First Holy Communion),
Confirmation, RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) and Baptism (me,
the missus and Fr K). Despite both doors to the Parish Room being open, the air
inside was hot and still, and glances were furtively cast at the drinks and
snacks on a side table. It wasn’t an official celebration, it was mostly a work
session, but there was pride and pleasure in exchanging experiences.
For me, baptism is special;
the last words of Our Lord before He ascended, as recorded by Saint Matthew
(28:19-20) are ‘Therefore
go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father
and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and
teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you
always, to the very end of the age.’ A catechists' charter.
We are privileged
to participate in this Great Commission and it’s often humbling and moving to
witness the faith of others. There’s hardly anything stronger in the world than
a mother wanting the very best for her infant, surrendering the child in love
to God’s protection and influence, trusting that baptism will open a doorway
that will lead through him or her safely through this world and into the next.
In Sacred Heart, the varied
national origins of the parents is also striking. I haven’t kept a record but
in the last few months we’ve seen Poles, Albanians, Brazilians, Mexicans,
French, Latvians and others, as well as locals. We’ve even said the Our Father in Polish and Albanian during
the baptism service. This is a catholic and universal church with both a large
and a small ‘c’- Deo Gratias!
No comments:
Post a Comment