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.

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Fr. Christopher Welch • February 15, 2026
The last line of our gospel speaks of saying yes and saying no:  Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No’. (Matthew 5:37) When we say ‘yes’ to one thing, we may be saying ‘no’ to another. Sometimes our choices are among goods. We may need to prayerfully consider what to say ‘yes’ to. The words of Jesus imply that once we have made a choice, we need to stick with it. Too often we say ‘yes’ and later regret what we said ‘yes’ to. It may take time to grow into the choice we have made. We may need to stick with it for a time, and in time, our choice may feel right. When I took on my first assignment as a pastor, Bishop Hubbard advised me, “Make no large decisions the first year.” I found this to be sage advice. I found it takes time to get to know others and to find my way. Those who are in recovery are advised not to enter into any new relationships in their first year of recovery. This is also sage advice; the first year is about focusing on a new life of recovery, it is not the time to begin a new relationship. In time things make sense. I recall the words of Tevye and Golde in Fiddler on the Roof : (Tevye) "Golde I'm asking you a question..." Do you love me? (Golde) You're a fool (Tevye) "I know..." But do you love me? (Golde) Do I love you? For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes Cooked your meals, cleaned your house Given you children, milked the cow After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now? (Tevye) Golde, The first time I met you Was on our wedding day I was scared (Golde) I was shy (Tevye) I was nervous (Golde) So was I (Tevye) But my father and my mother Said we'd learn to love each other And now I'm asking, Golde Do you love me? (Golde) I'm your wife (Tevye) "I know..." But do you love me? (Golde) Do I love him? For twenty-five years I've lived with him Fought him, starved with him Twenty-five years my bed is his If that's not love, what is? (Tevye) Then you love me? (Golde) I suppose I do (Tevye) And I suppose I love you too (Both) It doesn't change a thing But even so After twenty-five years It's nice to know. The most important ‘yes’ we make is a ‘yes’ to the Lord. It may take time to figure out what this may entail. This was true for Mary when she said ‘yes’ to the angel. Jospeh also had to say ‘yes’. Neither knew where that ‘yes’ would take them, and so it is for us. I am reminded of the words of Michel Quoist in his book Prayers of Life : Help Me to Say ‘Yes’ I am afraid of saying ‘Yes,’ Lord. Where will you take me? I am afraid of drawing the longer straw, I am afraid of signing my name to an unread agreement, I am afraid of the ‘yes’ that entails other ‘yeses.’ And yet I am not at peace. You pursue me, Lord, you besiege me. I seek out the din for fear of hearing you, but in a moment of silence you slip through. I turn from the road, for I have caught sight of you, but at the end of the path you are there awaiting me. Where shall I hide? I meet you everywhere. Is it then impossible to escape you? But I am afraid to say ‘Yes,’ Lord. I am afraid of putting my hand in yours, for you hold on to it. I am afraid of meeting your eyes, for you can win me. I am afraid of your demands, for you are a jealous God. I am hemmed in, yet I hide. I am captured, yet I struggle, and I fight knowing that I am defeated. For you are the stronger, Lord, you own the world and you take it from me. When I stretch out my hand to catch hold of people and things, they vanish before my eyes. It's no fun, Lord, I can't keep anything for myself. The flower I pick fades in my hands. My laugh freezes on my lips. The waltz I dance leaves me restless and uneasy. Everything seems empty, Everything seems hollow, You have made a desert around me. I am hungry and thirsty, And the whole world cannot satisfy me. And yet I loved you, Lord; what have I done to you? I worked for you; I gave myself for you. O great and terrible God, What more do you want? * * * Son, I want more for you and for the world. Until now you have planned your actions, but I have no need of them. You have asked for my approval, you have asked for my support, you have wanted to interest me in your work. But don't you see, son, that you were reversing the roles? I have watched you, I have seen your good will, And I want more than you, now. You will no longer do your own works, but the will of your Father in heaven. Say ‘Yes,’ son. I need your ‘yes’ as I needed Mary's ‘yes’ to come to earth, For it is I who must do your work, It is I who must live in your family, It is I who must be in your neighborhood, and not you. For it is my look that penetrates, and not yours, My words that carry weight, and not yours, My life that transforms, and not yours. Give all to me, abandon all to me. I need your ‘yes’ to be united with you and to come down to earth, I need your ‘yes’ to continue saving the world! * * * O Lord, I am afraid of your demands, but who can resist you? That your Kingdom may come and not mine, That your will may be done and not mine, Help me to say ‘Yes.’

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Fr. Christopher Welch • February 8, 2026
Deacon Greg Kandra tells the story of meeting a person who chose to convert to the Catholic faith. He asked why this person chose to convert and was told, "because of my boss.” Deacon Kandra asked why and was told, “He seemed to glow with the light of God and I decided I wanted what he had.” I am reminded of the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, “What you do speaks so loudly I cannot hear what you are saying.” It is not the words that attract people to the Lord; often it is how we live our lives that makes the difference. Jesus reminds us not to hide our light under a basket. The prophet Isaiah gives us a list of how we shine our light in the world: Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn... (Isaiah 58:7-8) Many will stand on soap boxes and proclaim how good they are. It is not their words that speak to us but their actions. This is what Emerson is speaking about and what that person’s boss proclaimed. They did not hide their lamp but let their good works speak for them. St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta spoke about this in her poem Anyway : People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; Be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; Succeed anyway. If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; Be honest and frank anyway. What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; Build anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; Be happy anyway. The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; Give the world the best you've got anyway. You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God; It was never between you and them anyway.  (Inscribed on the wall of Mother Teresa's children's home in Calcutta) In these cold dark days, we are invited to share the warmth and light of the spirit of our God with those who we meet.

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Fr. Christopher Welch • February 1, 2026
THE SEARCH by Shel Silverstein I went to find a pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then— There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last.... What do I search for now? So often we look at life as a destination. How often as children did we bug the driver of the car with the endless question, “Are we there yet?” The spiritual masters remind us that life is not about the destination, but the journey. How much we would miss if we didn’t take the journey. The Prophet Zephaniah encourages us to “seek the Lord”. One way we seek the Lord is by our poverty of spirit. We are blessed as we begin to recognize that I am not in charge, God is the one in charge. I let God set the agenda. One aspect of wisdom is knowing I am not wise. St. Paul, in his letter to the community at Corinth, speaks about true wisdom: God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong. Sometimes it is the foolish who get it: the foolish see that the journey is the goal, not the pot of gold under the rainbow. The challenge is learning to live day by day and let God be the one in charge. Sometimes God acts to remind us of who is in charge. The storm this week reminded us that we are not in charge. Our plans needed to be changed to address the issues of the storm. We had a choice; we could have cursed the storm or adjusted our expectations. We are on a new journey. The pot of God may have hidden in the people and projects we addressed this week. In a few short weeks we will begin the season of Lent, a journey we take toward the most important days of the year. Holy Week lays out for us the mysteries of our faith: the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord. How will we take this journey? How will we seek the Lord? Lent is a search, not for pots of gold, but for a deeper relationship with the Lord. I went to find a pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then— There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last.... What do I search for now?