A Pastor’s Thoughts: ‘A Good Father and Holy Waters’

[By Fr. Jim Muscatella, Blessed Trinity and St. Patrick’s Parishes]

July’s hot sun always brings me back to fishing with my own father, Jim. Even now, as “Father Jim,” I am still my father’s son – and I know it best when Dad and I go out on the water. I still squint through the glare, watching in wonder as Dad deftly cuts, ties, and casts out his line.

My dad has everything he needs—the know-how, the gear, the desire, the peace – to enjoy even a “bad day” of fishing. While he has everything necessary already, Dad sometimes mysteriously takes along one extra thing which promises to complicate his otherwise trouble-free day: me.

For my father, this is no foolishness – even if his son is still a fool on the water. For Dad, the boy he still needs to get out of the all-too-common tangle is something more than necessary. Dad delights in bringing his boy into the mix.

In the midst of the many tangible kindnesses he shows me, I continue to learn how to rely on him. Here, I realize again how much he still loves me – that, after all the years and habitual snags and hang-ups, I am still his boy. Every freshly tied lure he offers is a reminder that Dad called me out onto the water not because he needed me there, but because he wanted me there – to enjoy it all with him.

So it is with God. The Christian story tells us that God has never needed anything, but out of gratuitous goodness – from the sheer delight of sharing His life – called all things into being.

Turning our backs on God, Our Father, was to our loss, not His. He had been perfect without us before – He could be perfectly content without us again. We were never necessary for Him.

In Jesus Christ, we find out we are more than necessary – the God who delighted to first create us, now delights in the chance to save us.

As an all-powerful God, He might save us any way He would like – without our knowing, without our say.

Jesus Christ, true God who took on the full human-ness of our flesh, shows us that He delights to save us in ways we can see, know, even feel – to bring us, every part of us, right into the mix of His story of our salvation. The Father sends Jesus as our brother to remind us we are still His children – and that He still wants to share His life with us. This is how a Father acts; we shouldn’t be surprised.

At Christ’s word, we accept the offer of sharing in God’s life (this is what we call grace) by meeting Him with everything we are – mind, soul, and body.  

In Matthew’s Gospel, we hear Christ command, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” (Matt 28:19). We hear those words, and so let ourselves be baptized (literally immersed) in water – not because God could not draw us near to Him in any other way, but because in this way He wishes, in His wisdom, to meet us – body and soul.  In the touch of that water, and by the words He entrusted to his friends to forever share – Jesus gives us a continual point of reference to be seen, heard, remembered, and cherished: it was then Christ met me in the waters; forevermore my life is meant to be immersed in His.

In every Catholic Church, the holy water font waits. We are meant to take ahold of those waters – and be reminded that the Lord once took ahold of us in them. We trace the sign of our salvation – the Holy Cross – across our hearts and faces, remembering that it is by Christ’s gift that we can now see, hear, and receive the good things of the Lord. As we do this, most especially at every Holy Mass, we grow through these means to love and trust the One who delights to meet us in our need.