Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

I was looking forward to raising a saint

Water, words, and God.

Though he could star in commercials for products that promise a perfect, healthy baby, I believe Finian was born flawed. Though his sleeping face suggests cherubic innocence, I believe he entered the world stained with Original Sin. I believe his soul was in jeopardy. So we flew East — Deirdre, Fin, and I — to have him baptized into the Catholic Church.

We could have done it here, but I wanted my family present to welcome him into the faith. And though baptism is far more than a sentimental, customary ritual, there was a pleasant sentiment in having him baptized in the same church that saw me washed clean, 24 years earlier. St. Mary's Church in Cortland, New York, is a large gem in a small setting, a miniature Gothic cathedral in a city of 20,000. Few of the churches I have seen this side of Europe are as beautiful. The cool gray marble of the altars and the statues, the warm, dark wood of the pews and confessional, the pale yellow and blue of the soaring ceiling and walls, all of it ornate but not overdone, have helped to make St. Mary's my standard, the measure of a church.

The church is big: my family is small. Guests brought our number to about 20, but there was still the feeling of huddled intimacy that comes from occupying a tiny part of a great empty space. The Sunday afternoon sun shone through the stained glass. Father John Fenlon, a trim, energetic ma with graying curly hair and a manner that alternated between friendly-casual ad weighty-solemn, administered the sacrament.

Sponsored
Sponsored

After asking us if we knew what we were undertaking in having Finian baptized, he spoke to Finian. "Finian Thomas Lickona, I claim you for Christ our Savior by the sign of His cross, which I trace on your forehead."

Father then read from that Sunday's Gospel and also from Paul's second letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 5. "The love of Christ impels us who have reached the conviction that since one died for all, all die. Christ died for all so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for Him who for their sakes died and was raised up." He commented that Finian was about to die to everything that was not of God and be born again into a new life.

Somewhere around this point, I had what someone has called a moment of clarity. A moment when words resume their original force and meaning. (Amazing that we can use words like God, the Devil, Heaven, Hell, Sin, Grace, the Incarnation, and all the rest of it with such casual tones, but we can, because they have been softened by use. What does "born again" signify anymore?) These words were, for a moment, clear. "Live no longer for ourselves, but for Him...." We are here to please God. Nothing else matters as much. Nothing else comes close. Everything else will pass away, but God will remain, and we will remain, and the question, "Did you love Me?" upon which everything will hang.

That kind of moment resists being dragged out of time by memory; it fades and becomes awkward in the recounting, and even in the recalling. The words become familiar again — the mind says. "Yes, yes, I know that," but can't quite swallow the idea. I can't recall the force of that moment; I can only remember that it happened and that when Father asked if anyone had anything to add, I said I was looking forward to trying to raise a saint.

Father John invoked the aid of the saints (St. Finian — pray for us), anointed my son with oil to indicate his being incorporated into God's kingdom, called on us to profess our faith, and invited us to approach the baptismal font. The font, a carved marble bowl on a pedestal, was situated between the main altar and a side altar dedicated to St. Joseph. A statue of the saint stood on the altar, holding in his arms the infant Christ. Father then baptized Finian, pouring water over his head three times while saying, "Finian Thomas Lickona. I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." With words and water, a new Christian was born, and the promise of eternal life was extended to another soul.

The moment wasn't lost on me, but, as is often the case with meaningful events, meaningless details fought for my attention. Every baby I have ever seen baptized has been held by their mother — and here I was, holding my son under Father's hands and wondering if my wife was bothered by that. (She wasn't.)

Finian was wearing the same baptismal gown that Deirdre and her mother had been baptized in. The gown was very old, very fine, very fragile, and very long. We were taping the event for Deirdre's mom, and as I held Finian out over the font, I became aware that much of the gown was bunched up in my left hand. Since that hand was supporting Fin's body, I couldn't fix it without interrupting the ceremony. This gorgeous gown that had been passed down through three generations would appear short, bunched, and unremarkable in the video. I fretted about this almost up the instant of baptism. Such is the tyranny of material things.

I said that I was looking forward to raising a saint. It's a good thing that I am, because as Father reminded me four times during the ceremony, getting that moment of clarity across to Fin, and getting him to hold onto it, is my greatest parental responsibility. Finan's absorption and retention of the faith will define, to a large extent, my success as a father. The culture he will grow up in will tell him that the fulfillment of the self is the summit of human existence. I have to convince him that the fulfillment comes by emptying the self, by living entirely for another, whatever pain that might entail. For that matter, I have to convince myself. There is a French saying, "The child is the father of the man." I might add that the father is the father of the child, and from here on in, I'm being watched.

The latest copy of the Reader

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

City Lights: Journey Through Light & Sound, Hotel Holiday Tea Service

Events December 7-December 11, 2024
Next Article

Gonzo Report: Jazz jam at a private party

A couple of accidental crashes at California English

Though he could star in commercials for products that promise a perfect, healthy baby, I believe Finian was born flawed. Though his sleeping face suggests cherubic innocence, I believe he entered the world stained with Original Sin. I believe his soul was in jeopardy. So we flew East — Deirdre, Fin, and I — to have him baptized into the Catholic Church.

We could have done it here, but I wanted my family present to welcome him into the faith. And though baptism is far more than a sentimental, customary ritual, there was a pleasant sentiment in having him baptized in the same church that saw me washed clean, 24 years earlier. St. Mary's Church in Cortland, New York, is a large gem in a small setting, a miniature Gothic cathedral in a city of 20,000. Few of the churches I have seen this side of Europe are as beautiful. The cool gray marble of the altars and the statues, the warm, dark wood of the pews and confessional, the pale yellow and blue of the soaring ceiling and walls, all of it ornate but not overdone, have helped to make St. Mary's my standard, the measure of a church.

The church is big: my family is small. Guests brought our number to about 20, but there was still the feeling of huddled intimacy that comes from occupying a tiny part of a great empty space. The Sunday afternoon sun shone through the stained glass. Father John Fenlon, a trim, energetic ma with graying curly hair and a manner that alternated between friendly-casual ad weighty-solemn, administered the sacrament.

Sponsored
Sponsored

After asking us if we knew what we were undertaking in having Finian baptized, he spoke to Finian. "Finian Thomas Lickona, I claim you for Christ our Savior by the sign of His cross, which I trace on your forehead."

Father then read from that Sunday's Gospel and also from Paul's second letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 5. "The love of Christ impels us who have reached the conviction that since one died for all, all die. Christ died for all so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for Him who for their sakes died and was raised up." He commented that Finian was about to die to everything that was not of God and be born again into a new life.

Somewhere around this point, I had what someone has called a moment of clarity. A moment when words resume their original force and meaning. (Amazing that we can use words like God, the Devil, Heaven, Hell, Sin, Grace, the Incarnation, and all the rest of it with such casual tones, but we can, because they have been softened by use. What does "born again" signify anymore?) These words were, for a moment, clear. "Live no longer for ourselves, but for Him...." We are here to please God. Nothing else matters as much. Nothing else comes close. Everything else will pass away, but God will remain, and we will remain, and the question, "Did you love Me?" upon which everything will hang.

That kind of moment resists being dragged out of time by memory; it fades and becomes awkward in the recounting, and even in the recalling. The words become familiar again — the mind says. "Yes, yes, I know that," but can't quite swallow the idea. I can't recall the force of that moment; I can only remember that it happened and that when Father asked if anyone had anything to add, I said I was looking forward to trying to raise a saint.

Father John invoked the aid of the saints (St. Finian — pray for us), anointed my son with oil to indicate his being incorporated into God's kingdom, called on us to profess our faith, and invited us to approach the baptismal font. The font, a carved marble bowl on a pedestal, was situated between the main altar and a side altar dedicated to St. Joseph. A statue of the saint stood on the altar, holding in his arms the infant Christ. Father then baptized Finian, pouring water over his head three times while saying, "Finian Thomas Lickona. I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." With words and water, a new Christian was born, and the promise of eternal life was extended to another soul.

The moment wasn't lost on me, but, as is often the case with meaningful events, meaningless details fought for my attention. Every baby I have ever seen baptized has been held by their mother — and here I was, holding my son under Father's hands and wondering if my wife was bothered by that. (She wasn't.)

Finian was wearing the same baptismal gown that Deirdre and her mother had been baptized in. The gown was very old, very fine, very fragile, and very long. We were taping the event for Deirdre's mom, and as I held Finian out over the font, I became aware that much of the gown was bunched up in my left hand. Since that hand was supporting Fin's body, I couldn't fix it without interrupting the ceremony. This gorgeous gown that had been passed down through three generations would appear short, bunched, and unremarkable in the video. I fretted about this almost up the instant of baptism. Such is the tyranny of material things.

I said that I was looking forward to raising a saint. It's a good thing that I am, because as Father reminded me four times during the ceremony, getting that moment of clarity across to Fin, and getting him to hold onto it, is my greatest parental responsibility. Finan's absorption and retention of the faith will define, to a large extent, my success as a father. The culture he will grow up in will tell him that the fulfillment of the self is the summit of human existence. I have to convince him that the fulfillment comes by emptying the self, by living entirely for another, whatever pain that might entail. For that matter, I have to convince myself. There is a French saying, "The child is the father of the man." I might add that the father is the father of the child, and from here on in, I'm being watched.

Comments
Sponsored

The latest copy of the Reader

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

Gonzo Report: Jazz jam at a private party

A couple of accidental crashes at California English
Next Article

Colorado governor Polis’ days in La Jolla canyons

Why Kamala might not run for Calif. governor
Comments
This comment was removed by the site staff for violation of the usage agreement.
Sept. 28, 2020
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it Letters — Our inbox Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Street Style — San Diego streets have style Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves Theater — On stage in San Diego this week Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close

Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

This Week’s Reader This Week’s Reader