Awash in Gratitude
When the call came, the children were ready: “We’re going to bless the water, and I need your help.” The little ones, who had already been eyeing the baptismal font, leaned over the marble ledge and eagerly plunged their small hands beneath the surface of the still water. As the deacon pronounced the words of blessing - “O God, who by invisible power accomplish a wondrous effect through sacramental signs . . .” - they wiggled their fingers and watched the resulting ripples.
As I stood beside the baptismal font, I was awash in gratitude. I wish I could have recorded the moment in the style of “The West Wing,” with a camera spinning slowly around the room, capturing images of every face. Four generations of my family. Friends who are like family.
I was grateful to God for every person present at my beloved granddaughter’s baptism. This child has no idea how fortunate she is to be immersed in such deep love. Surveying the scene, stories bubbled up in my memory. I recalled how relationships were formed, how friendships were sustained. Standing in the sanctuary where my son and daughter-in-law were married eight years ago, I was aware that the Spirit of God has intertwined our lives in mysterious and marvelous ways. The 2-month-old at the center of the rite has already been profoundly influenced by the lives of those who gathered around the font.
I was also grateful to God for the ritual itself, even though this rite of infant baptism is not a part of my Baptist tradition. As I have grown older and wiser, I have learned not to fear religious rituals that are different than my own. I have also learned that I was taught erroneous things about sacraments by folks who arrogantly believed that Baptists possessed the only path to God - and the only proper ordinances. “We are all of us pointing toward the same moon, and yet we persist in arguing about who has the best finger,” observes Father Richard Rohr.*
In recent years, all sorts of rituals have pointed me toward God. During my spiritual direction training at the Haden Institute, my cohort created rituals that enhanced our shared spiritual journey. Whenever we gathered in Clarke, my cohort’s assigned cottage at Kanuga Conference Center, we began our small group sessions with a candle-lighting ritual, allowing us to intentionally bear witness to the presence of the Holy in each person.
As my cohort made plans for our final intensive, we knew that we needed to create a ritual to mark the ending of this phase of our shared journey - something in addition to the official graduation ceremony. We also wanted to bless the space where we had gathered during our intensives, the cottage where we shared stories and dreams, the room where we laughed and cried, the sacred space where the Spirit of God inextricably knit our lives together.
When the time came, we adapted one of John O’Donohue’s blessings - “For a New Home” - to guide our embodied expression of gratitude for our cabin. We then honored one another with an anointing ritual, speaking words of blessing inspired by John Philip Newell: “In mind, body, and soul may you be well, and may you be strong for the work of healing the world.”
O God, who by invisible power accomplish a wondrous effect . . . I am grateful to God for rituals old and new, for ancient religious rites and contemporary ceremonies, for well-trod paths and freshly blazed paths. The Divine knows no bounds.
Invitation to Wonder: What rituals point you toward God? When have you participated in an unfamiliar ritual that nourished your spirit?
*Barbara Brown Taylor, Holy Envy, p. 78.
