Earlier today I was in Cloonloo for the baptism of my grand-niece, Grace Mary. I was happy to be there with my family as we celebrated this day with Grace and her parents. There were a lot of children there – Grace has many cousins – and that too was good to see and they brought life to the gathering. I was proud of my nephew and his wife and thankful that they chose to bring their little daughter to the Baptismal Font. It’s not something that’s taken for granted now and when they asked me about it, I was pleased that this was their decision and commitment.
Standing at the Font today, as the water flowed back into it during the moment of baptism, I could not help but think of my own baptism at that same font. Almost to the day, fifty-six years ago on St Patrick’s Day, water flowed back into that font from my head as the priest spoke my name and baptised me in the name of the Trinity. The words and actions today were, give or take, the exact same words of that day.
It’s an ongoing story this – the story of our faith and our journey through life. It is well begun in the celebration of baptism and, each day, we are called to remember. Days like these make the recalling a bit easier.
Maybe give a bit of thought to your day of baptism. Remember who was there – especially so if they are no longer with us.
Beautiful picture; a very special moment captured. My baptism took place in Islington north London in November 1963. Over several years, the same priest, Fr Noctor, married my parents and baptised myself and my six siblings. May my parents and Fr Noctor, since passed away, rest in peace.