Whenever a group of people gather for a public event, it is usual for them to identify themselves in some way. Uniforms, team jackets or color-coded name tags announce to friend and stranger alike common interests or origins. At Sunday eucharist we remind ourselves of our kinship with one another and with Christ through baptism in the rite of blessing and sprinkling of Holy Water. This rite, familiar to some as the asperges from the pre-Vatican II liturgy (from the text that was chanted), calls to mind our union with the death and resurrection of Jesus. The revised ritual reminds us that the sprinkling rite is appropriate at any Sunday liturgy. It is particularly appropriate during the Easter Season and on the feasts in which baptismal images are highlighted…like today’s feast of the Baptism of the Lord.

After the sign of the cross and the greeting, the blessing and sprinkling with holy water is actually the first option, and the penitential rite is the second option. The rite of sprinkling is simple: The presider invites the assembly to pray silently, then he blesses the water. In some places, salt, a symbol of strength and flavor and effectiveness, among other things, is added. Then the assembly is blessed with the water. The priest and other ministers may walk through the assembly generously sprinkling the people, or people may come forward in a procession and sign themselves with the water. In either case, an abundant use of water signifies God’s overflowing love and mercy. As in the sacrament of baptism itself, many levels of meaning come into play: Water signifies cleansing, protection from evil, newness of life, forgiveness of sin and God’s saving deeds.

After the sprinkling rite and opening prayer, the liturgy of the word begins. Immediately we do what baptized people are called to do. We listen to God’s word, offer prayers for the needs of all, give thanks and praise and share in the Body and Blood of our Lord. Conscious of our shared baptismal heritage, we are sent forth to announce the good news which we ourselves have seen and heard.

It was spring in the Midwest. The hoped-for rains came, softening the earth, preparing it to receive the seed that would provide food for a nation. The rains went, the seed was planted. The earth burst forth, green with life. And the rains never returned. Crops died. The earth cracked. Farmers went broke. Another spring. The hoped-for rains came. The drought was broken at last. The earth became soft again, healed of its fractures. But the rains never left. Streams overran their banks, rivers burst through levees. Cars and cattle were washed away. Homes and fields and entire towns were flooded. When the waters subsided, everything was covered with a thick layer of mud.

The next spring, the gentle rains came and went. The earth, wearing a new coat of fertile soil and holding reserves of water deep beneath its surface, brought forth a great bounty.

The waters of baptism, like the Midwest’s rains and rivers, cannot be tamed and controlled. They bring both life and death, destruction and growth, fertility and barrenness. And always they show the power of God.

Springs of water, bless the Lord.

For months, maybe even years, the catechumens (those unbaptized in the RCIA) have been dismissed after the liturgy of the word each week to continue reflecting on the word of God and to anticipate the day they will stay and join those who break bread and give thanks at the Lord’s table. And finally the day arrives, and still they are dismissed - not before the celebration of the eucharist, as they were previously, but after it: “Go, you are sent forth in peace to love and serve the Lord.” They and we are not just sent out (“Go!”), we are sent forth with a purpose, with a mission (“Love and serve!”). Preparing for baptism is not simply about getting ready to go into the waters, it’s about getting ready to go through the waters to the table of the eucharist to be fed and strengthened to return to the world and carry out Christ’s work. We go to the font only once in our lives, and we go to the altar for an hour or so each week. The rest of the time is spent outside the church, as Christ to our world today. To this we say, “Thanks be to God!”