Baptism of the Lord, Year C

I have a question for you:  Did Jesus Christ need to be baptized?  Approaching this question academically, knowing that Baptism is one of seven sacraments the Church recognizes, we might begin to answer that by asking, “What is a sacrament?”  The classic definition of a sacrament is that it is an outward (that is, a visible) sign, instituted by Christ, to convey God’s grace for our sanctification — to help us grow in holiness.  So does it make sense that Jesus Christ would receive a sacrament instituted by himself to convey God’s grace when he is already fully divine — God the Son?  Yeah, doesn’t make much sense, does it?  And on top of that, if we consider that one of the primary sacramental effects of Baptism is the forgiveness of all sin, both original sin and personal sin, and we consider that Jesus Christ, fully divine and at the same time fully human, is like us in all things except sin, then Christ has no need to be baptized to receive this sacramental effect!  So pulling those few strands of logic together, I think we can conclude that Jesus does not need to be baptized for the reasons that you and I need to be baptized!


…But does Jesus Christ need to be baptized…for our sake?  That is a different, and interesting, question.  Today we hear from Luke’s version of the Baptism narrative, but in Matthew’s version, when John the Baptist questions whether he is worthy to baptize Christ, Jesus says “Allow it now ... to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt 3:15).  Considering the definition of a sacrament I gave you a few moments ago — that a sacrament is a visible sign instituted by Christ — some theologians and Church Fathers point to Christ’s own Baptism as that very institution, or at least the beginning of the institution of the Sacrament!  By physically entering into the waters of the Jordan, and by extension the waters of all the earth, Christ blesses them and sanctifies them, that they may in turn become the matter of our sanctification in Baptism.  Each of the seven Sacraments of the Church has form and matter:  the form consists of the words and actions of the sacrament, and the matter is the substance or prerequisite for the sacrament.  Water is the matter for the Sacrament of Baptism.  So in a manner, Christ needs to be baptized to establish the sacramental matter and form of Baptism for our benefit.  He leads the way for us, that we may watch, listen, and follow him, leading the way by having himself baptized.  Interestingly, we re-present Christ’s sanctifying entry into the waters of the Jordan at his Baptism at each Easter Vigil before we baptize our adult candidates when we dip the large Paschal candle, the Christ candle, into the waters of the Baptismal font three times — Father, Son, Holy Spirit — Christ again blessing them, making them holy, making them the matter for Baptism, the matter of our sanctification, symbolic of our cleansing from sin through Christ.


There is another connection to the waters of Baptism and the sacramental effects of Baptism that is pointed to in the imagery of Luke’s Gospel we heard today:  it is the descent of the Holy Spirit from heaven “…like a dove.”  The dove reminds us of the action of the Holy Spirit, literally the breath of God upon the waters of the earth at the dawn of creation, bringing forth new life.  The Holy Spirit descends upon Christ, revealing him as the new creation of humanity.  Jesus Christ — God the Son, the Word of God — became flesh, became one of us, that we might become a new creation in Him.  In Baptism we die to our old human nature of sin and its consequences that lead to perpetual separation from God and one another.  In the waters of Baptism we are united to Christ’s death, with our sins washed and buried in the waters of Baptism.  And from the birth-waters of Baptism we rise with Christ, sharing in His Resurrection to new life, united to Christ forever, sharing in Christ’s divine nature. 

We invoke this symbolism, and our faith, not only at each Baptism, but each time we bless ourselves with holy water, and at each funeral, when we sprinkle the casket or urn with holy water and pray: 


“In the waters of Baptism [person] died with Christ and rose with Him to new life.  May he/she now share with Christ eternal glory.”   


We symbolize this new creation we have become through Baptism with the white garment that is donned following the Baptismal rite.  Infants are traditionally dressed in white outfits.  Here at St. Mary’s, we use white garments for infants, hand-made by parishioners, itself beautifully symbolic of the child joining and being welcomed by our parish Christian community.  Baptized adults don a white alb, similar to what Fr. Chris and I wear under our vestments.  The white garment is symbolic of the newly-Baptized having put on Christ and risen with him.  St. Gregory Nazianzus, a fourth-century bishop and Doctor of the Church, also taught that the white clothing of Christ also veils our shame, the wound of our sin.  Baptized and resurrected with Christ, the sin is gone, but we bear the scars, just as the Resurrected Christ bore the wounds of His crucifixion.

God’s rich love and mercy are poured out upon us as salvation and grace through the Holy Trinity in the Sacrament of Baptism.  There is nothing we do to merit or earn this salvation:  it is God’s free gift, poured out upon us.  This is what St. Paul spoke of in his letter to Titus:

…not because of any righteous deeds we had done

 but because of his mercy, He saved us through the bath of rebirth

 and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he richly poured out on us

 through Jesus Christ our savior. (Titus 3:5-6)


We are only called to seek, accept, and cooperate with God’s grace in leading a holy life.  In Baptism we are incorporated into Christ and configured to Christ, marked with an indelible spiritual mark upon our soul, that claims us as belonging to Christ.  And once we have been claimed by Christ, we can never be unclaimed.

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti • August 16, 2026
We are on the cusp of Delaware County Fair week, and if you've ever been to that fair, you may be well familiar with one of its fixtures: the pancake tent run by a Walton community church. This past week, I was on the fairgrounds in my secular job capacity as Cooperative Extension educator, helping get our displays ready in the Agricultural Awareness area of the fair, which happens to be right next to the pancake tent. The church was also busy getting their tent set up as well. At one point I glanced over and realized that their pastor was leading a small group in a Bible study, while others continued to set up their serving area and kitchen. How nice, I thought, that they made space for this in the busy-ness of their set up. We went about our tasks, while this small group immersed themselves in Scripture. At some point, I realized that I was hearing the pastor’s voice, floating in and out on the light breeze, but in a more sustained way, and I realized he was leading the group in an extemporaneous concluding prayer to their Scripture study. We continued to go about our setup, not really paying close attention to the group in prayer. A bit later, I realized the pastor is still offering this concluding prayer. I don't know how much time elapsed before he eventually stopped, but it seemed like 5-10 minutes! I thought to myself — “Wow” . If you have ever led prayer extemporaneously, it is not easy to do it for an extended time period and have it flow without breaks, in a coherent, non-repetitious manner. How nice, I thought, in the midst of a workday to hear prayer offered, and I admired the pastor’s freedom to offer it in a time, place, and manner I was not expecting. Although I was not directly a participant in this pastor’s Scripture study and prayer, his example within earshot and eyesight was an inspiration of faith to me, no matter how small it may seem. God often brings us to a greater faith through the words and actions of our brothers and sisters around us — Catholic and non-Catholic alike — through the witness of their lived faith. Faith is at the heart of all of the readings we hear today, from the prophet Isaiah, St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, and Matthew’s Gospel. They all speak of foreigners — Gentiles — coming to salvation through faith. In the Jewish world, salvation was through Judaism and Israel. And while Jesus is a Jew, his healing of the Canaanite woman and Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles show that salvation is no longer exclusive to the Jews; rather that they can come to salvation through faith in Christ. It is, in fact, faith that is central to the Gospel passages we have heard each of the last three weeks: the disciples doubting that there was enough food to feed 5000 people, then watching and helping Jesus do so; Peter doubting the presence of Christ and that Christ could sustain him walking across the water and then being rescued by him; and a Canaanite woman believing Jesus, as Lord and Master, could heal her daughter, persevering in her petition for his help…and being rewarded for her great faith. These stories of faith beg questions of faith for us today — which of the characters are we? Are we the disciples, doubting there is enough to feed 5,000 in the presence of God? Are we Peter, wanting to believe, then testing his belief, then sinking in a sea of doubt? And the Canaanite woman, an outsider; is our faith as great as hers? How does the witness of the Canaanite woman challenge us to look and see the witnesses around us today, even those we consider outsiders, who inspire us to a greater Christian way of life — a greater lived Christian faith? A life of greater generosity, deeper compassion, richer mercy, and more fervent faith. In short, a life of love.

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • August 9, 2026
We all have storms in our lives. The issue for Peter seemed to have been, when he took his eyes off of Jesus, he began to drown. We need to keep our eyes on Jesus and when we experience storms in our lives that is how we get through, we keep our eyes on Jesus and we get through. The second thing Peter did when he began to drown is he called out to Jesus, “Save me, Jesus.” Jesus reached out and took Peter’s hand. Peter experienced being saved by the hand of Jesus. Today’s Gospel reminds me of the song “Hold On” from the musical The Secret Garden , based upon the book by Frances Hodgson Burnett. In the play, Mary Lennox is orphaned and moves in with her uncle. Her uncle is a hunchback and his wife died in childbirth; their child (Mary's cousin) is kept in isolation for fear he will be a hunchback like his father. Mary discovers her cousin’s mom’s garden and together they work to bring it back to life. The child begins to get well; when her uncle’s brother complains, Mary consults Martha the maid. Martha sings “Hold On”. Martha is singing about the situation with Mary’s cousin and uncle, but holding on to the face of Christ is how we weather our storms. Look up the song on YouTube. Here are some of the words from the song: When you see the storm is coming, See the lightning part the skies, It's too late to run- There's terror in your eyes! What you do then is remember This old thing you heard me say: "It's the storm, not you, That's bound to blow away." Hold on, Hold on to someone standing by. Hold on. Don't even ask how long or why! Child, hold on to what you know is true, Hold on 'til you get through. Child, oh child! Hold on! When you feel your heart is poundin', Fear a devil's at your door. There's no place to hide- You're frozen to the floor! What you do then is you force yourself To wake up, and you say: "It's this dream, not me, that's bound to go away." Hold on, Hold on, the night will soon be by. Hold on, Until there's nothing left to try. Child, hold on, There's angels on their way! Hold on and hear them say, "Child, oh child!" And it doesn't even matter If the danger and the doom Come from up above or down below, Or just come flying At you from across the room!  When you see a man who's raging, And he's jealous and he fears That you've walked through walls He's hid behind for years. What you do then is you tell yourself to wait it out And say it's this day, not me, That's bound to go away.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • August 2, 2026
The gospel begins with the words: When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist.... John is Jesus’ cousin; John is the one who leaped in his mother's womb when he met Jesus in his mother’s womb. John is the one who baptized Jesus and now Jesus hears that John is dead by being beheaded. Jesus is in grief and wants to be alone. We are told that in his grief, Jesus went off to be alone. Word gets out where Jesus is and all the people show up looking for him to heal and feed them. We are told that Jesus’ heart is full of compassion for the people. Rather than telling them to go away, to let him be, he heals them. This is the life of a disciple – people are not in need on my schedule. When people show up, I need to attend to them. We can never do ministry with our eye on the clock. Although he was tired and in grief, Jesus cared for the people. He knew he could not be there always and his disciples would need to help out. When the disciples tell Jesus the people are hungry, the disciples were the hungry ones. Jesus tells them to give them something yourselves. This is Jesus’ way of calling them to act as disciples. I have fed them with my words; if they need food for their bodies, give it to them yourselves. The disciples find five loaves and two fish. Jesus offers a prayer. Jesus gives thanks for what has been provided, an action of gratitude. He then gives them to the disciples to distribute. Jesus is asking them to continue his ministry by feeding the people. What is left over fills 12 baskets; the number 12 reminds us of the 12 tribes. Jesus has come to feed the whole world. Jesus provides the feast and we as disciples share what we have been given with others. The five loaves and two fish are enough to feed the crowd and provide many leftovers. Our God is a God of abundance. What God has provided is not wasted and what God has provided is given to us by disciples who participate in God’s work. If we are to be disciples, we need to learn how to feed others. Like Jesus, we may find that being a disciple interrupts our life. When someone is in need we attend, we put aside our own agenda for a time and attend to the person in need. Our grief may come later after we care for the person in need. Those who were fed echo the words of Isaiah in the first reading. They come and are fed body and soul. The feeding of the soul are the words of Jesus and the feeding of the body comes from the hands of the disciples.