The task of the whole of our earthly existence is to bring about what baptism inaugurates.
— Columba Marmion, Christ, The Life of the Soul
We are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.
— Romans 8:16–17
What baptism inaugurates is absolutely extraordinary — life as children and heirs of a loving, generous, all-powerful Father and King! Baptism opens up the possibility of eternal joy beyond our imagining. To realize this possibility, our response, as uniquely created and individually chosen heirs, must be to live our lives with God as our primary love and value. This is our fundamental, most important vocation as baptized Christians, which informs the way we live out our secondary vocation, whether as priests, religious, or laity.
One of the most important teachings of the Second Vatican Council was to renew the emphasis on our common vocation as baptized Christians — a belief firmly held in the early Church. The foundational importance of baptism is gradually becoming more appreciated again, but the tenor of the discussion surrounding legitimate vocations and single people in the Church still reflects a general underappreciation of this extraordinary, undeserved gift from our Father, who loves us with abandon and ardently seeks our freely given love in return. We were not baptized by accident; each of us has been particularly chosen and known by God even before Creation.
Also underappreciated, or altogether unknown by many, is the wonderful truth that our baptismal consecration makes us a “chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own” (1 Pet. 2:9). Just as an ordained priest offers Mass in persona Christi (in the person of Christ), we laity also offer ourselves to God in persona sua (in our own name). Not only does the priest offer himself at Mass as he offers Christ to the Heavenly Father; we all do. This privileged responsibility demands that we ourselves be drawn into the sacred offering of Christ Himself.
The Passion of Christ must be allowed entry into our own desires, so that we long for this offering with Him at Mass. We are to be “given up” and “poured out,” just as Christ Himself is at each Mass.
This powerful, sacred reality hit home with me during a Mass at which both the congregation and the priest faced in the same direction, ad orientem. Not only did the priest show great reverence, but so did the congregation. The reality of Christ’s concealed presence was made palpable by the comportment of all those offering Mass. I felt more, not less, connected to my fellow congregants and the priest when we all faced forward.
In Leonardo da Vinci’s painting The Last Supper, I used to consider the placement of Jesus and His apostles on the same side of the table, all facing the same direction, as a compositional device. No longer. Their placement conveys the profound theological truth that, as baptized Christians, we are all part of Christ’s sacrificial offering to God, our mutual Father.
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This article is adapted from a chapter in Single for a Greater Purpose: A Hidden Joy in the Catholic Church. It is available from your local Catholic bookstore or online through Sophia Institute Press.
Photo by Alessandro Valenzano on Unsplash