Are you a godparent? Do you have any idea what a tough job you’ve taken on?
I’ll explain later. But just for now, celebrate with me, because this Sunday is the anniversary of the day I became a Catholic.
I don’t remember it, but I have a piece of paper to prove it. I wish I could say that I know it happened because I am growing in God’s grace and becoming a better person, but I’m less sure about this bit.
None of us is born Catholic. We are born as little wriggling pagans.
We still baptise a lot of babies and adults in Catholic Australia, although fewer than we used to.
It’s gone from 66,789 in 2000 to 52,593 in 2022 – a drop of around 21 per cent in 20 or so years.
In fact, 2022 was a bumper year, because the previous year the total number of baptisms had dropped to just 42,120, possibly because of COVID19.
In some ways, a drop in the number of people being baptised in Australia is almost reassuring.
We know our Mass attendance rates have been in freefall, and so many of the people presenting their babies for baptism aren’t going to Mass themselves.
Now perhaps even the lingering social appeal of baptism – or the all-important ‘christening party’ – has worn off for these people.
Should they ask for baptism for their children when they don’t intend to keep the solemn promises they make for them?
Oddly enough, our hearts almost always say yes – but we should probably stop and think about this a bit more.
Sometimes we say yes because we have a superstitious idea about baptism bestowing good luck on the baby or protecting it from bad luck.
Sometimes we say yes because we want the baby to have a chance at heaven if anything untoward happens.
I think this reflects a limited view of God’s mercy. It also puts us in situations where children are baptised as Catholics and then never learn anything about God or attend a church in their life.
I’m not convinced that this is right either. The right way is somewhere in between all of this, but I’m just not sure where.
As we know, Christian baptism isn’t just a social welcome to a new baby, or a naming ceremony.
It’s a colossal infusion of God’s grace into a spiritual blank slate – sadly, one already marred by original sin and intended for death.
Recently I was listening to a wonderful online interview between US theologian Larry Chapp and Norwegian bishop Erik Varden.
Bishop Erik shared a story of a young man preparing for baptism who had now noticed for the first time how blue the sky was.
Baptism can do that. God’s grace can do that. The whole world looks different after baptism – or it should, anyway.
Baptism regenerates a soul. You come out of it literally a different person; you’ve been ontologically changed.
It binds you in strong and demanding ways to God. It orients you like a compass towards true spiritual north.
It’s your first and last vocational call – to live as a child of God and to find your way to heaven on a day-to-day basis in whatever state or states of life God puts you in.
When you die and are lucky enough to have a requiem Mass, your coffin will be clothed in the white garment of baptism again.
The paschal candle will be lit as it was when you were baptised.
You’ve died once already spiritually in baptism. You’ve now died physically in your body. Everything has now come full circle. Hopefully, job done.
Infant baptism gives serious spiritual obligations to parents and godparents to help that child grow into their eternal destiny.
That baby is a mortal being who will one day be fully divinised and will live forever in the heart of the Trinity – if we all do our job right.
Being a godparent is not a compliment. It’s a great spiritual and sometimes physical load which you should really think about before accepting.
It’s a massive privilege, but it also puts you in the hot seat before God.
Every godparent should read the Catechism (1213-1284) on what baptism really is. It’s mind-blowing.
I have five godchildren, and I pray for them every day.
That’s literally all I can do, because all of them except Felicity, who has dimples, are adults now and responsible for their own mistakes.
God bless all our godparents and godchildren today. Let’s pray for them a bit more often than we do.
