28 years ago today, I was baptized. My godfather, Patrick, held me and promised to do his best to be a spiritual mentor for me.
He has done a great job.
I remember when I was in high school, having a really rough time, and Pat driving me around my neighborhood while I talked to him. "Are you praying about this?" he asked me. It hadn't even occurred to me. I figured I had to do this thing alone.
Baptism is not a lonely act. It is a sign, not only of our own calling and adoption, but of our calling and adoption into a community. A body. In baptism, says Paul, we die to ourselves, and are raised in Christ--and Christ, as understood by Paul, is represented on this planet not by an individual but by a community. We die to individualism and alienation, and we are raised for communion. In baptism, we are marked as God's, but we come to understand ourselves as loved by God in the context of people who love us.
Pat is someone who reminds me that I am part of a community, that I am not doing this alone. I wonder who does that for you?
This Lent, I'm not giving up on baptism.