While watching and listening to the speeches I was brought to tears when one candidate closed his remarks with one of the finest statements defining what we as a country are all about and the responsibility we all share as citizens of these United States of America. I share those comments with you.

“You know, the fact that each October, in the closing weeks of a hard-fought campaign, people of all political persuasions can come to this dinner and share a meal and honor the work of this foundation underscores the reality that no matter what differences or divisions or arguments we’re having right now, we ultimately belong to something bigger and more lasting than a political party.

We belong to a community. We share a country. We are all children of God.

And in this country, there are millions of fellow citizens, our brothers and sisters, who need us very much, especially now. We are being battered by a very serious economic storm, and for many Americans it’s only deepened the quiet storms they’ve been struggling through for years.

Beyond the walls of this hotel, on the streets of one of the greatest cities in the wealthiest nation on earth, there are men and women and children who have fallen on hard times and hard luck, who can’t find work, or even a job that pays enough to keep a roof over their heads. Some are hanging on just by a thread.

Scripture says God creates us for works of service. We are blessed to have so many organizations like this one and the Catholic Diocese that perform these acts of God every day.

But each of us also has that responsibility. Each of us has that obligation, especially now. No matter who we are or what we do, what I believe each of us in this room asks for and hopes for and prays for is enough strength and wisdom to do good and to seek justice and play our small part in building a more hopeful and compassionate world for the generations that will follow.

Before Al Smith was a candidate who made history, he was a man who made a difference, a man who fought for many years to give Americans nothing more than a fair shake and a chance to succeed. And he touched the lives of hundreds of thousands — of millions as a result. Simply put, he helped people.

That’s a distinction we can all aspire to, that we can all achieve, young or old, rich or poor, Democrat or Republican or independent. And I have no doubt that if we come together at this moment of crisis with this goal in mind, America will meet this challenge and weather this storm, and, in the words of Al Smith, ‘walk once more in eternal sunshine.’

Thank you so much, everybody. God bless you.”

Barack Obama

Thankfully our Book of Common Prayer provides very sound guidelines for the preparation and performance of the burial rite. These guidelines are a great comfort both to the deceased’s family as well as to the church staff responsible for the burial service.

Very early on in my ministry I was reflecting on what is communicated in our burial rite and concluded that if anything, we, as the Church, are communicating the promise found in Matthew 28:20, “…And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” One aspect of my ministry has always been the goal of trying to make our Holy Scriptures relevant and present in our everyday thoughts and actions. And, although the Burial Rite in our BCP underscores Christ’s promise to always be with us, I wondered if there was a way to communicate this promise in our liturgical actions as well.

From the time that I held my very first funeral, and every one since then, I have had the habit of watching the family members as they would drive away from the interment of the body. It did not take a great deal of observation skills to notice that, almost without exception, every time the car was pulling out of view of the grave site that the occupants would turn in their seats and take one last glance at the grave of their loved one. It was from this observation that I thought that it might be possible to incorporate into my actions a subconscious communication of Christ being present with their loved one. In addition, having attended many funerals held by other denominations, I have always been uncomfortable witnessing the officiating minister, having completed his or her liturgical functions, move over to the immediate family, shake their hands amd possibly say a few words, and then move out into the others gathered and begin what, to me appeared to be a process of evangelism, sharing in the light conversation and sometimes light banter. Then, having greeted those presemt, walk off to his or her car and on to other tasks for the day. Surely, there must be something we could do to underscore the promise that He would be with us always?

My liturgical practice during the time of a funeral service is that from the time the body arrives at the narthex of the church I do not leave the side of the body. Instructions are given to the funeral director that I will even ride in the lead vehicle with the body to the cemetery. I also have an acolyte with her processional cross proceed the funeral party for the procession from the church to the vehicle and from the vehicle to the actual graveside. All the while we remain dressed in our white albs for this portion of the service.

Once the internment has been completed, the acolyte with her processional cross and I remain at the head of the casket until all of the family members have departed the cemetery. My purpose is that, as the cars drive away, and the occupants turn for that one last look at the grave site, it is my belief that subconsciously the family is left with the image of these two figures, dressed in all white, standing beside the body of their loved one and in and through this visual image is reassured of the promise of our Lord that indeed, he will be with us always.

Although I’m forced to conjecture upon the situation in which Thomas found himself, since we are not told why he was not with the other apostles when Christ appeared the first time to them, I sense that I am probably not far awry about the feelings Thomas must have been experiencing during those agonizing days following the crucifixion of Jesus. Thomas, the apostle who offers to die with Jesus on His way to Bethany (John 11:16). Thomas, the apostle who interrupted the last discourse with his question “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”(John 14.5). Thomas, the apostle who doubted the Resurrection unless he were to touch the wounds of the Risen Lord (John 20:25-28). Thomas, the apostle who, after Christ’s appearance, confesses his faith in the words”My Lord and my God” and is thus the first to confess explicitly Jesus’ Divinity following His death and resurrection. Thomas, the apostle whose confession of faith is saliently recited by Catholic and Anglo-Catholic worshipers throughout the world during the elevation of the elements during the prayer of consecration of the Holy Eucharist. Thomas, the apostle who may guide us to a deeper understanding of our faith response in times of crisis as well as celebration.

I believe that although our times are different from the 1st century disciples and followers of Christ, the people are the same and so is the loving message of God. We are living in a very different time than Thomas. I suppose many of us would think we therefore are quite different. But, are we really?

Prior to my coming to Birmingham, I was the full time Episcopal Chaplain to the Johns Hopkins Medical Institutions. I carry many fond memories and often think of many of the very special persons I had the privilege to work with and share life with during those six years. One April, right after Easter, I received the first of three letters from a very special woman which I want to share with you.

Martha and I met Ellen through the intervention of a college and seminary classmate of mine. This classmate had a parishioner who was coming to Hopkins to receive an experimental transplant - her own bone marrow. See, she was suffering from leukemia and there existed no matches for her to receive someone else’s bone marrow. A new, risky, highly innovative, experimental procedure. Her chances of cure only a guess; her chances of survival very, very slim. Dennis called the Diocesan Office and wanted to know if a priest might be able to visit her while at the hospital. He was delighted to hear that I was there.

As we talked over the phone, it just seemed appropriate that while Ellen was able, she could stay with us rather than in a series of hospital rooms. Mindful that her recuperation was going to take weeks, she might feel more comfortable having a house to call a home. Ellen agreed.

Ellen arrived two days before her scheduled hospital admission. The doctors had several tests they wanted run prior to beginning the process of transplantation. Mostly blood tests and the like. She didn’t need to be hospitalized for simple tests even if they were going to last two days. Ellen’s mother came with her. Ellen stayed for three weeks. Late that first night, being a night owl, I was up and so was Helen. We talked about many things. Mostly we talked about her history. I heard the story of a 31 year old mother of two children, a boy and a girl. Young, attractive, energetic, a teacher, friendly, articulate, and scared, very scared. She had leukemia now for three years. I can’t recall the exact figures or percentages but she was already ahead of the game - she was still alive. By the end of the second year, over 50% of persons with her disease die. By the end of the third year almost 90% are dead. By the end of five years, well…. And here she was - attempting to fight and stay alive.

Ellen discovered she had leukemia during one of her regular prenatal blood tests. The doctor couldn’t believe the results so he ran them again. It was then that the first of many decisions that had to be made. Should she continue to carry her child or abort?  No one really knew what affect the combination of her leukemia and being pregnant might have. If she decided to carry the child, then medical treatment for her disease had to be postponed until delivery. The recommendation from the medical profession?  Abort.

Ellen’s husband couldn’t take the disease or manage the situation. He divorced her. Many of her friends abandoned her. They didn’t know how to help. Many of those who stood by, told her that all she needed to do was turn her life over to Jesus and she would be healed. To Helen that sounded like bargaining. She had more integrity than that and therefore sought out a religious home that was at least more honest. She attended Inquirers’ Classes and was confirmed by her Bishop as an Episcopalian.

Ellen’s test results weren’t all that good and she was admitted the very next morning. Sometime during the night she wrote the following:

1/15/84

I should be tired, but I can’t sleep. I’ll have time to sleep later. I hope to get some “[hospital] passes” to at least walk outside. I love to feel the sun on my body with the wind slapping my face. At least [then] I know I’m alive. I’ll escape - simply leave - if I have to. ‘They,’ the keepers of the zoo, seem reasonable enough.

I have a few little stories - forest tales:  I am the squirrel jumping from tree to tree. Always inside is the knowledge that I’ll suddenly fall, crashing into the earth in a crushed little heap. My other image is of myself in an airplane (my body) which is hurtling earthward at an increasing speed. I’m (the real me - not my body) trapped inside the plane unable to regain control, to get out in any safe way, watching it fall. It’s scary as hell. I wish I’d had that sudden, fatal, heart attack or that (some) racing car had suddenly struck me down. I’m not sure why I’m here. I miss my children; I feel so lost and lonely. I believe, somehow, that God is with me. I believe in his love, yet where is he?  Why all this now?  I have struggled for a meaning; there is nothing I can find acceptable. The doctor scared me. I know it’s becoming more aggressive in time. I can (and do) watch my counts. I know how the use of my medication has changed. I know what’s coming. I drink to release the anger - to tell the world to go get fucked. I always wonder where God is. I feel so lost and so alone - I’m so afraid of nothingness.

I’ve always said I wouldn’t live long. I told Sammie about 6 years ago that I’d never see 40. Coincidence?  Did I know?  Self-fulfilling prophecy?  About 4-6 weeks before my diagnosis, Richard and I were fighting. I walked over toward him, looked at him and said, “maybe I’ll get leukemia and die, and we’ll both be out of all this shit!”  Did I know on some level what was happening or was I so unhappy that I was willing to die to escape it?  In short, did I cause it in some way?  I did my little drug overdose - conned my way out of the hospital (we all knew I was (conning them) - no real secrets). I threatened to sign myself out Against Medical Advise. She (the psychiatrist) agreed to release me if I’d come see her at her office regularly. Later, maybe 6 months or a year, I bought some hose for my car - to hook up to the exhaust. It works. I checked it out. Supposedly painless. I’ve had it a long time - about 18 months. It’s just in my trunk.

Yet, I love my children. I miss them. This morning as I left the hospital, I wanted to hold them so bad - especially my daughter. She’s done well with our situation. Sometimes I think I’m crazy. Mostly I feel very inadequate. Jimmy can be a jerk - he’s certainly not indulgent. He can be neat. My feelings?:  pick anyone off the street and you’d do better. At least she’d be healthy enough to have a future. It’s so hard to have a doctor look at you and say - if you have this baby, you’ll probably never see it enter school. I want to raise my children. I read Psalm 116 over and over. Almost every Sunday. I read it. I want to live - if I can’t have life on my terms (without all this hanging over me) I wish I were dead. I’m not dead - yet the illusion of immortality has been taken from me. My life span has been severely compressed. I hope I’m here in Baltimore to live. I’m afraid I’m here to die. Don’t let me die.

I had a dream once - I saw myself in a coffin. As the lid was being closed, my body either fell or leaped out. I couldn’t tell which. I’m not ready to die. Where is God?  Why did he let this happen to me?  Am I being punished?  I feel that way - punished - at times. In all this I haven’t been able to ask God for help - not with the illness itself. If pushed, I feel like he could have helped a hell of a lot by my never getting this. One morning - maybe 6-9 months ago, I went to one of St. James’ healing services. Very small - mostly older women - (you wouldn’t believe the people who have offered to take me to the Pentecostal meetings). One woman told me how God had cast the demon of cancer out of her and she was healed. It was a format I could handle.

Why have I felt so inadequate?  I think I make a neat friend. I don’t seem to do as well in close relationships, especially not with men. Certainly not my father or former husband. Jimmy?  Who knows. I care a great deal. He doesn’t want to - but I’m the one who has had the least desirable behavior, as far as I know. Some things he knows - he must - I’ve lied. I don’t know. Right now that’s not as important. Later…. He certainly is in touch with me right now.

1570 blast - myleofibrosis is beginning. Lots of megakaryocytes. I cycle high in short time periods without medication. 13,000 to over 90,000 in 2 and a half weeks. I’m monitored more closely than initially. I read the section in your medical book. Nothing new. I used to go to the hospital’s medical library. I have a hematology book at home that I bought from L.S.U.’s Med School. The information never changes. I’m lucky as hell to be here now.

How do I feel?  Angry. Desperate. Frustrated. I wanted a donor transplant very badly. I was depressed when it didn’t work out. That was either going to help me or kill me. This procedure has less chance to help (a cure), but also much less chance of killing me. That was the point of the other - I’d be out of what I often feel is “no man’s land.”  Could I readjust to feeling “O.K.?” about my body?  I don’t know. Sometimes I feel so crazy. Yet, I handle the responsibility of my life - my job, my children, my friends. I keep on doing all that I can. Hoping that tomorrow I can get up and do the same. Enough.

I want to thank you for letting me stay here. It’s so much nicer than an empty room somewhere. It’s all so frightening. Having a place to be with a “normal” life of its own is so very nice. Thank You.

Ellen.

In April, following her procedure, I received the following:

4/19/84

Dear Grady,

I’ve written this a dozen times mentally. I’ve rehearsed a few phone calls. Here goes.

I cannot tell you how much I appreciated your’s and Martha’s generosity. Baltimore was an intense and important experience for me. You two were certainly central in it. I’ve always (or recently) said I experience God through his people. Your hospitality was one of the miracles of my life. It made my stay easier for me. It helped me do it with a semblance of “style.”  (Not necessarily classy, but with a style of its own.)

Since I’ve been home I’ve realized several things. How scared I really was. The more anxious I become, the more aggressive I get with my doctors. I have really missed Baltimore. It was a time of death and rebirth in a sense. I’m still not sure who I am or how I feel about myself now. I feel more relaxed and better about Helen than at any time since my diagnosis or in a very long time. I’ve behaved very well. I have stayed out of crowds. I’ve found that I have to pace myself and rest before I’m exhausted. I think I’m taking my body more seriously. I’m aware that what I do now may determine my future health. 1200 rads is a terrific amount of radiation. I’m being gentler with my body. I like the slower life-style. I like staying sober. I joke that I’m not even on the highway anymore much less in the fast lane. It feels good. It’s something I needed to do. I’m not interested in a lot of motion for the sake of motion. I’m tired a lot. Emotionally I’m weaker. I’m more content with my present - it feels nice. I intend to permanently moderate my drinking. It makes a big difference in how I feel. I hope I don’t become panicky over being alone. I’ve arranged to do a number of tasks at my home. I’ve had a tree removed, remaining trees pruned, an old shed removed, yard cleaned. Having my fence repaired is next. It doesn’t sound like much, but it was something I didn’t want to take care of. It went real well. I am doing better at being alone. Sometimes I enjoy it.

My counts [blood] are great. The Philadelphia chromosome is not back. Everything looks good. How long it will last, who knows?  Maybe forever - my wish. My white counts are slightly elevated - 12000-14000 but I have several inflections hanging on. Planning on going to summer school and getting my Masters.

Ellen

Then, three months later I received this letter:

7/28/85

Dear Grady,

Enclosed is a picture of me. As you can see I no longer look like I have a crew cut. I was so glad you called me. You were so helpful and such a big part of the transplant - you and Martha were the best part. I am feeling better. It’s very hard to get excited about doing this a second time. I felt very scared - 50/50 is sobering. I like being alive now. But I am thinking less and less about the statistics and more and more about doing well. I was really centering on maybe dying, and I’m thinking lots about my children now, getting home to them. I plan to read more. I bought a jam box;  a JVC AM/FM/Shortwave Stereo. Maybe the added calmness will help me. I do miss Baltimore. The nurses are nice - we’re getting acquainted..

August 8th on is important. What I do when I go home is major. I’m trying to set myself for at least 6 months.

Clearly doing a transplant in stable phase not only increases the chance of survival, but also decreases the chance of relapsing with leukemia.

I know so many people are praying for me. I also know there are no guarantees. I really do believe God will be with me in whatever [happens]. I really want to be well. At least not under imminent threat of death. Ultimately it will all be O. K. for all of us, whatever and however God works it all out in reconciliation. I guess that’s where I’m at - in the center of his love in the middle of all the good and bad. I just find it hard to believe that if I can crank my faith meter to X I’m rewarded with the jackpot of health and if I am 2 units away from X I’m punished with early death. I wish I had answers. I’m not even sure I have the right questions. I do trust that God will be with me come what may. Hopefully I can do what I need to.

Love,

Ellen

Ellen found a home - a church.
Ellen found the loving message of the resurrection.
Ellen challenged her faith.
Ellen’s struggle was not in accepting her death but to discover how to live again.
Ellen took her youngest child to his first day of school.

Ellen - A 20th Century Thomas. She experienced a deeper understanding of  her faith response during a time of crisis as well as her celebration at being able to walk her six year old to his first day of school.

During my years in Clinical Pastoral Education in a medical setting many situations arose which challenge a chaplain’s theology. As I have mentioned before, Clinical Pastoral Education has as a very basic principle the utilization of the “living human document” as the primary teaching tool in the development of pastoral skills and the providing of pastoral care. The “living human document” is the person being ministered to as well as the person offering pastoral ministry. And it is in the interaction of the minister and the layperson that pastoral care is defined, exercised and communicated.

One incident that has profoundly affected me in providing pastoral care occurred while I was serving as the Episcopal Chaplain to the Johns Hopkins Medical Institutions in Baltimore. A young couple [Jane and John - not their real names] had presented to the hospital with complications regarding a very difficult pregnancy. In discussions with the young couple it was extremely apparent how much they wanted this first child. In fact they had been planning for a family for several years and were now in a financial position, secure in their marriage and stable in their community to move forward on their plans. They were a loving, caring, and religious couple who wanting nothing more than to have a healthy child.

Due to the difficulty of the Jane’s pregnancy she needed to be hospitalized for the final two months of her pregnancy. Naturally during this time the hospital staff and the chaplain got to know the family on a very personal basis. Visits included talking about the future, hopes and dreams, prayers for a ‘healthy’ baby, home improvements, the baby’s room and crib, the difficulty of not knowing, the hospital experience and a wide variety of other topics appropriate for the hospital setting. The nursing staff had become particularly fond of the couple as they spent many off hours talking with this prospective mother and father.

On a Thursday morning around 3:00 a.m. the chaplain on call was paged to the maternity ward - never a good sign. Upon arrival it was discovered, while checking in at the nurses’ station, that Jane had just delivered a still-born child and that the couple wanted to have their child baptized.

What should be done? Baptismal theology is developed around the responses of the parents and god-parents in the name of a living child. Are there theological exceptions? What needs to be done now in this tragic situation? After saying a brief prayer it was time to find out.

The scene in the room was overpowering. There on the hospital bed was Jane cradling the still-born in her arms wrapped in a white baby blanket, a gift from Jane’s mother, with John standing at her bedside on her left and a nurse standing on the opposite side with her hand on Jane’s shoulder. The pain and suffering on everyone’s face said everything. Before anything could be muttered, both Jane and John said that they wanted to have Suzy baptized.

Pastoral care is not about intellectualizing theology; it is doing of theology. As it’s basis, pastoral care is the manifestation of the love and acceptance all Christians have received out of God’s love for each and every person. Although baptismal theology underscores that what takes place during the baptismal rite  is not something that the priest, chaplain or Church does but is, in reality, a sign and a symbol of what God, in and through Jesus Christ, as already done for his children. Therefore, how could God’s love and concern be expressed in this setting?

The nurse immediately said she would like to assist if that was OK with everyone. What occurred next was the most powerful and graceful experience I have known of in my 35 years as an Episcopal priest. The first part of the baptismal service was recited. When it came time for the pouring of water everyone recognized that they had forgotten to set any aside. Drawing upon the trust and faith in the “living human document” the chaplain noticed that everyone was crying. Using that observation he reached out his fingers and, wiping the tears from Jane’s cheek, took her tears and made the sign of the cross upon Suzy’s forehead and recited the words, “I baptize you in the Name of the Father” and then, wiping the tears from John’s cheek, again making the sign of the cross and saying “and of the Son.”  And finally wiping the tears from the nurse’s cheek and making a third sign of the cross on the child’s forehead and saying, “and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” Immediately everyone then embraced and together prayed the Lord’s Prayer.

Shortly thereafter the still-born Suzy was taken away for an autopsy. Jane was discharged the next day and I have never heard from the couple again. However that sacramental experience continues to live in my life and ministry.

Frederick Buechner said: “Try this.  Keep track of any event in the course of a week, a month, a year, that brings tears to your eyes.  They may be happy moments or sad moments or moments that on the surface seem quite unremarkable, but in whichever case they are moments when you have been stirred to your roots, and it is there, at your roots, that God is at work in your life.  Examine those moments with great care, ask why they brought tears, and you will learn much about God and about yourself too.”

Be sure to watch out for the second child being baptized. He is a hoot!

baptising_kid

I took their request to the very next Vestry meeting and after discussion they approved the idea. What emerged in the discussion was the position that, as long as there were volunteers to maintain the garden, all produce would be available to anyone and everyone whether or not he or she was a member of the congregation or not.

Well, volunteers stepped forward. After tilling the soil, a real task since the location had once been part of a gravel parking lot, preparing the soil, the vegetables were planted and continued to be watered by hand.

It is such a joy to see cars pulling into the area and persons getting out to inspect the results. It is especially rewarding when persons not affiliated with St. Michael’s avail themselves to this project.

Scripture says they we are to “feed the hungry” and in one very small way St. Michael’s is fulfilling this demand. This vegetable garden is truly “Summer Manna.”

The first three are probably the most familiar to Episcopalians. However, at least for the congregation, the fourth action is instrumental for both the newly baptized, the congregation and the Church at large. Most parishes have the custom of the Celebrant walking or carrying the newly baptized through the congregation immediately after the welcoming words: “We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.” Giving the members of the congregation an opportunity to see the newly baptized, especially if he or she is an infant, is a delightful experience for the worshipers and a way to emphasize the ‘welcoming’ aspect.

But, what are we really saying in our actions. Through the years I have added some additional customs [See: Holy Baptism: The Salt of Baptism]. One is that I invite all children to come and gather around the baptismal font so that they can get a better view of what will be taking place at that spot. Another custom I have incorporated into the rite is, immediately following the ‘welcoming,’ having a representative from the congregation, most often the Senior Warden, take the infant, child and/or adult and walk the newly baptized throughout the congregation.

Why the Senior Warden or another representative you may ask? What is being signified during this action is not only our words of ‘welcoming’ but also the congregation’s responsibility for the upbringing and nurturing of the newly baptized. Yes, the priest is charged with the responsibility of “ensur[ing] that persons be prepared for Baptism” as well as “ensur[ing] that, before baptizing infants or children, that sponsors be prepared by instructing both the parents and the Godparents concerning the significance of Holy Baptism, the responsibilities of parents and Godparents for the Christian training of the baptized child, and how these obligations may properly be discharged.” (Constitution and Canons, III.9.5(3)) However, the reality is that by the time the newly baptized is ready for Confirmation, the priest who performed his or her baptism will have moved to another parish. So then, who’s responsibility is it to see to it that the child is brought up in the Christian faith and life?

I believe it is the responsibility of the congregation and not solely the parents, Godparents and sponsors! When a person is baptized into God’s family, he or she is being baptized into a particular parish family. And, as a family, every member of the congregation is responsible for the upbringing, education, nurturing and support of the newly baptized. In addition every member of the congregation carries the responsibility in and through their prayers and witness to help the newly baptized to grow into the full stature of Christ. These responsibilities are affirmed when, as witnesses of the baptismal vows, each congregant promises to “do all in your power to support [the newly baptized] in [his or her] life in Christ.” And as an outward symbolic sign of the congregation’s responsibility, the Senior Warden receives the newly baptized and presents his or her to the congregation so that it may truly “welcome the newly baptized.”

This is not the place to delineate a comprehensive statement of the theology of baptism itself. Let it suffice it to say that all Christians affirm baptism whether as a child or as an adult. And although distinctions may be drawn, and frankly should be drawn, between baptism as essential to the Christian life or fundamental to Christian belief, baptism is universally accepted as important to all Christian groups. This being said, distinctions between baptized and non-baptized persons are made in the Episcopal Church. For instance baptism is required for persons to receive the Eucharistic elements. In the Burial of the Dead a distinction is made regarding “Baptized Christians are properly buried from the church” and in some places the burial of the body is not permitted in church cemeteries. Also, in our marriage rites at least one of the parties must be baptized for the priest to be able to perform the ceremony. The role of baptism in the burial rite, although not explicitly laid out, was also addressed in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer where, in the Burial Rite a rubric reads: “It is to be noted that this Office is appropriate to be used only for the faithful departed in Christ, provided that in any other case the Minister may, at his discretion, use such part of this Office, or such devotions taken from other parts of this Book, as may be fitting.” [Emphasis added]

Regretfully things are not always so simple or straight forward for priests under extraordinary pastoral circumstances. And let me say up front that my decisions were made on the basis of what I understand to be the theology of baptism as practiced by the Episcopal Church and its application to concrete pastoral situations. Some readers will follow and accept my reasoning while others will vehemently disagree with the stance I took. Either way, it is my hope that what I have to share will foster further discussion and understanding as to the role baptism plays in our theological, sacramental, liturgical and pastoral lives together.

Over the course of 35 years as a priest I have been asked to perform baptisms numerous times during my hospital ministries as either a chaplain of the institutions or as a priest visiting parishioners. A couple of times I have been confronted with whether or not I should, or theologically and liturgically could, perform the Sacrament of Holy Baptism.

Several years ago, while at the bedside of a non-responsive 83 year old man, his wife asked me to baptize him. At the time her husband was in critical condition and was not expected to live. This couple had, for more than 25 years, been very active in the life and ministries of their parish. However, although her husband was one of several persons who could always be counted on in being present for every service, he had never been baptized. This fact came to me when I noticed that he never came forward to receive the Eucharistic elements even when he was serving as an usher for the service. Naturally, when an appropriate time and place presented itself, we took some time apart and I inquired as to his non-participation at the altar rail. He informed me that I was not the first priest (in fact several has preceded me) to ask him about this and he simply shared that he had not been baptized. Naturally I attempted to engage him about his decision and sought out various avenues in approaching the topic.

Over the next few years, from time to time, I continued to bring up this topic and each time he shared that he chose not to be baptized. Pastorally I am not able to share with you the nature of our discussions but it’s important for you to know that his refusal to be baptized had nothing to do with any personal sense of guilt or rejection or lack of understanding or broken relationships with family, friends, or the Church. Although I did not necessarily agree with his reasoning I did share with him that I would always continue to respect his decision and continued to encourage him to feel free to speak with me at any time regarding this issue. And so it went on for years.

Now I found myself being asked by his wife to have him baptized while on what she perceived was her husband’s deathbed. What should I do? Would it be theologically, sacra mentally, liturgically and pastorally appropriate for me to perform his baptism? Well, before the suspense gets to great, I turned the conversation to a series of various inquiries with his wife about what her husband had expressed throughout all those years. And we talked about the loving acceptance of our God and our Lord Jesus Christ. And we talked about the practical reality that no priest or minister actually does any baptism but rather it is Jesus Christ who is the Baptizer and that everyone’s salvation was made manifest when Jesus Christ died on his cross for our sins and for our redemption and for our salvation. I then said that, at this time, we could not be sure that her husband had come to the end of his life, and that we ought to respect his life long decision regarding baptism. Which we did.

Thankfully my friend and parishioner and fellow worker with Christ did not die and, after his discharge from the hospital, returned home to his wife and family.

Some time after his discharge from the hospital I was called to another parish. Years later I received word that this gentleman had died. To this day I do not know if he ever decided to be baptized. And I have been troubled about my decision to not baptize him. However, I feel confident that although I may have missed an opportunity to bring another soul into the church my conscience is comforted with the thought that I at least respected him and his adult decision to not be baptized. And to this day I truly believe that he was, and is, one of God’s children. Yes, an adult respected!

Even today there remain clergy and as laity who continue to attempt to use the 1979 BCP upon the same theological and sacramental understanding which undergirded the 1928 BCP. This misuse of the 1979 BCP restricts liturgy to its surface dimensions, so that what the rite is intended to say is undermined by the manner in which it is celebrated.

One example of this problem is illustrated in the revision of the baptismal rite. The baptismal rite of the 1928 BCP took as its model the baptism of a child or infant. Adult candidates are a clearly secondary expectation. The older rite further took for granted that baptism itself was a separate liturgical action and not connected to any other essential corporate celebration, such as the Sunday Eucharist. However the baptismal liturgy found in the 1979 BCP is really quite different in its expectations in this regard not only to the above matters but also in its nature. The revisions are not simply a matter of changes or adjustments of the texts, but rather more significantly, of the theology upon which Christian initiation is based.

The new baptismal rite, for example, establishes that an adult is now the normative candidate for baptism through the way the baptismal rite is constructed: adults and older children are presented first [1979 BCP, pg. 301], thus pointing to a theological priority for those who can speak for themselves. Additionally, the way the baptismal rite is introduced in the service rubrics indicates that the standard pattern should be the celebration of baptism in the context of the Eucharist. This is supported by an introductory rubric to the rite: “Holy Baptism is appropriately administered within the Eucharist as the chief service on a Sunday or other feast.” [1979 BCP, pg.298] This new baptismal rite consequently reverses the expectations upon which the former rite was based.

Such significant changes are not a matter of mere ritual updating but rather are indicative of a major shift in the theological understanding of the rite. This new structure breaks with the privatized model of baptism which had, in pastoral practices, dominated for centuries.

This shift in theology and liturgical practice is a result of much study of the history and theology of Christian initiation and is manifested at the level of pastoral practice. The rediscovered theology of initiation is directly related to the recovery of a biblical understanding of the Church as the people of God. The gospel of our participation in the paschal mystery through baptism is thereby reclaimed by changes in the liturgical rite which support such a theology.

But it does not stop there since this fundamental theological change has produced further changes. Because the celebration of baptism is now to be performed within the context of the Eucharist on Sunday, an opportunity is presented to reawaken the Church’s awareness of the essential link between the two sacraments, i.e. that baptism is entrance into the communion fellowship and that the Eucharist is itself a sacrament of initiation, the fulfillment of the process of the making of a Christian. This connection between these two sacraments has been obscured for centuries at the level of pastoral practice. Prior to the baptismal rite revision the Holy Eucharist had been separated from the rite of baptism and attached the Holy Eucharist to the rite of Confirmation which is associated with a certain level of intellectual understanding. Again, historical research in this area has borne fruit at the pastoral level by revealing the historically questionable influences which separated the interconnectedness of the rites of baptism and the Holy Eucharist and what had for centuries in Christian practice been understood as integrally related.

These matters concerning baptism and related issues are but one example of a whole complex of critical areas in which the mutuality between liturgy and doctrine may be seen. Liturgical change is the response in the Church to the awareness of God’s present imperatives within the community of faith.

The Book of Common Prayer is for Anglicans far more than a collection of liturgical rites. Within Anglicanism the Prayer Book is a living expression of the profound union between what we believe and what we pray. The 1979 BCP is a doctrinal document not because it contains didactic materials such as a catechism and historical documents of the Church of doctrinal significance but because it is in our corporate worship that Anglicans find the common ground for their profession of faith. It is in this sense that Anglicanism has never understood itself as a ‘confessional church’ in the way, for example, that Lutheranism has identified its faith with certain documents which are fundamental to its identity. Anglicanism has claimed no faith of its own but only that faith which the Church at all times and in all places has celebrated in its corporate worship.

One custom I have incorporated into the celebration of the baptismal rite has been the utilization of baptismal salt.  In the Catechism of the Council of Trent we read: “When salt is put into the mouth of the person to be baptized, it evidently imports that, by the doctrine of faith and the gift of grace, he should be delivered from the corruption of sin, experience a relish for good works, and be delighted with the food of divine wisdom.”

In many ancient civilizations, salt had great symbolic value. Because of its acknowledged power to purify and preserve, salt spilled on the parchment was a guarantee of good faith in signing a contract or making an agreement. Among the Greeks and the Turks, to eat salt with a stranger was a token of friendship. The Greeks made thank-offerings of salt to the gods they worshiped as givers of life. The ancient Jews offered salt to Jehovah at harvest time. In Jewish tradition today, bread and salt are the first things to be brought into a new house.

In some areas of the far East, people give their children little bags of salt to hang around their necks as protection from the “evil eye.” And in parts of Russia no bride and groom would enter a new home without first throwing salt in every corner to protect them from harm and to encourage health and happiness.

Even in modern Christianity, salt has symbolic significance. The Bible contains many separate references to salt. In the ritual of baptism, salt is used as a symbol of protection against evil, representing purity of mind and soul and the power to resist temptation.

Salt, always used for the seasoning of food and for the preservation of things from corruption, had from very early days a sacred and religious character. The Prophet Eliseus employed it to make palatable the waters of a well (2 Kings 2:19 sqq.). The Orientals used it to cleanse and harden the skin of a newborn child (Ezekiel 16:4); by strewing salt on a piece of land they dedicated it to the gods; in the Jewish Law it was prescribed for the sacrifices and the loaves of proposition (Leviticus 2:13). In Matthew 5:13, salt symbolizes wisdom, though perhaps originally it had an exorcistic signification.

Owing to its preservative quality salt was a sign of purity and incorruptibility, especially among the Semitic peoples. As such, salt served to confirm contracts and friendship; the covenant between Yahweh and Israel on Sinai, e.g., being called a ‘covenant of salt’ in Num. t8: 19. This symbolism, taken together with its seasoning properties, helps to understand the Lord’s saying ‘Ye are the salt of the earth’ (Mt. 5: 13, cf. also Mk. 9: 5o), where the salt represents Christian wisdom and integrity (see also Col. 4: 6). The ritual use of salt is very old and widespread. It was prescribed in the Old Testament for every oblation (Lev. 2: 13) arid played an important part in the sacrifices of the Greeks and Romans. The old pagan Roman custom of placing a few grains of salt on the lips of an infant on the 8th day after his birth to chase away the demons probably lay behind the offering of blessed salt to catechumens which formerly formed part of the Roman Catholic rite of Baptism.

The association of spilled salt and the appearance of evil is illustrated by the overturned saltcellar of the Last Supper. Judas, who has succumbed to temptation, is identified by Christ through the evil significance of the spilled salt.

The use of salt in the Church has belonged almost exclusively to Roman Catholic practice. In fact there are two kinds of salt for liturgical purposes; baptismal salt and blessed salt.

According to ancient practice, the baptismal salt, which is crushed, cleansed and blessed by special prayers, is given to the catechumen before entering church for baptism. In fact, according to the fifth canon of the Third Council of Carthage it would seem that salt was administered to the catechumens several times a year. This use of salt is recorded by St. Augustine (Conf., I. 1, c. xi) and by John the Deacon. St. Isidore of Seville speaks of it (De off., II, xxi), however in the Spanish Church the use of salt was not universal.

The blessed salt is used for the preparation of holy water for the Asperges before the celebration of the Holy Eucharist on Sunday and for use of the faithful in their homes. The present Roman Catholic formula of blessing is taken from the Gregorian Sacramentary (P.L., LXXVIII, 231). Both baptismal salt and blessed salt may be used again without a new benediction.

The appendix of the Roman Ritual has a blessing of salt for the use of animals and another in honor of St. Hubert. The Roman Pontifical orders salt to be blessed and mixed in the water (mixed in turn with ashes and wine) for the consecration of a church. This is also from the Gregorian Sacramentary. Again salt (not specially blessed) may be used for purifying the fingers after sacred unctions.

I began to use the baptismal salt when I ran across a Church of England book of ceremonies, published in 1543, which read: “And then he” that is, the Priest, “puts hallowed salt into his mouth” that is, the mouth of the child whom the Priest is baptizing, “to signify the spiritual salt, which is the Word of God, wherewith he should be seasoned.”

Any priest wishing to observe this ancient custom, traditionally known as the Imposition of Salt, the salt to be used for this purpose should first be blessed according to the following ancient formula updated by this author to a more modern idiom (and yes, it sounds almost like an exorcism but then it was written in the middle of the 16th century):

I solemnly command you, O creature of salt, in the Name of God the Father Almighty, in the charity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in the power of the Holy Spirit. I solemnly command you by the living God, by the. true God, the holy God, by God who created you for the protection of the human race, and who commanded you to be hallowed by his servants for the use of those coming to belief, that in the Name of the Holy Trinity you may be effective as an healthful agent for putting the enemy to flight. Wherefore I pray you, O Lord our God, that in sanctifying this creature of salt you would sanctify it; and in blessing it you would bless it, that it may become to all who receive it a perfect remedy abiding within them, in the Name of the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall come to judge the quick and the dead, and the world by fire. Amen.

The way I administer the salt is immediately after the prayer for the newly baptized and following the sealing at baptism and the presentation of a Baptismal Candle in the Order for Holy Baptism, I take a few grains of the blessed baptismal salt between my right thumb and index finger or, if the salt has been ground into a fine powder (I use Martha’s mortar and pestle), and placing the salt on the lips of the person having been baptized, much in the same way the ashes of Ash Wednesday are administered, and say:

RECEIVE the salt of wisdom: may it be to you a pledge of everlasting life. Amen.