A friend of mine recently asked me if I would baptize her.
She’s married, living what looks like a settled life, and has been around the Catholic faith for most of her upbringing. Her husband was baptized and confirmed in the Church in Mexico, while she, despite being raised Catholic, was never baptized or confirmed. Now, she’s feeling a pull—or maybe just a curiosity—toward finally being baptized.
But the path isn’t as simple as filling a font and saying a few words.
She went to a priest, seeking baptism, and was told that her marriage needed to be convalidated first. This requirement—having her marriage recognized as sacramental and valid in the eyes of the Church—is often a stumbling block for couples who were married outside the Catholic Church. She and her husband, however, don’t see the need. They're civilly married, committed, and in their eyes, that should be enough.
And honestly, that's a sentiment I understand. From a purely human standpoint, they’re doing what most would call “everything right.” They’re married, faithful to each other, and raising a family. But when it comes to the Church’s understanding of sacramental life, things get more complicated.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 1630–1632) teaches that marriage between two baptized persons is indeed a sacrament. But here’s where nuance comes in: for Catholics, the form of marriage matters. If a Catholic (even a non-practicing one) marries outside the Church without proper dispensation, that marriage is considered invalid in the eyes of the Church, even if both parties are baptized. That’s why convalidation—a simple but deeply meaningful ceremony that brings the marriage into full sacramental standing—is required before baptism can move forward.
Still, my friend isn’t ready to accept that. She asked if I, as a lay minister, could baptize her instead. Technically, yes—I can. In cases of emergency or danger of death, anyone, even a layperson, can baptize so long as they use water and the Trinitarian formula: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
But this isn’t an emergency. This is a moment that should be sacred and intentional. And that’s what gives me pause.
More than just the irregularities of her marital situation, what gives me real hesitation is something deeper: she’s very immature. Not just in a personality sense, but spiritually. She doesn’t see faith as something to enter into. She doesn’t seem to grasp the weight of what baptism means. There’s no hunger for formation, no visible desire for a relationship with Christ, no evidence of seeking truth or transformation.
In our conversations, it’s become clear that she sees baptism more as a box to check than a life to embrace. I haven’t seen a deepening of faith in her, or a desire to understand what baptism truly signifies: the dying to self, the rising with Christ, the commitment to a lifelong journey of discipleship.
And that’s where I struggle—not just as a lay minister, but as a friend who cares deeply about her soul.
Baptism is not magic. It’s not a rite of passage or a spiritual “get out of jail free” card. It’s the gateway to all the sacraments, yes—but it’s also a vocation. A radical call to live in communion with Christ and His Church. It’s not something to rush into or do halfway.
I long for her to be baptized—not because the Church says so, but because she says so. Because she’s met the Lord, and wants to give Him her life. Because she sees baptism not as a means to an end, but as the beginning of everything.
Until then, I’ll keep praying for her. I’ll keep walking with her. I’ll keep gently challenging her to seek not just the sacraments, but the One who instituted them.
And I’ll trust that God is still working, even in the waiting.
Reflection Question:
Is there someone in your life who is seeking the sacraments without seeking Christ—and how might you lovingly accompany them toward a deeper encounter with Him?
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