Why My Child is Being Baptized by a Priest I Seriously Disagree With

Pietro Longhi, “The Baptism” (1755)
Pietro Longhi, “The Baptism” (1755) (photo: Public Domain)

My family moved to Okinawa, Japan a few weeks ago. Believe it or not, we moved when my wife was 33 weeks pregnant.  One 3-hour plane ride to Dallas-Ft. Worth. Then a 13-hour flight to Tokyo. One long adventure through customs while herding two young kids to a completely different terminal. Then, a 3-hour flight to Okinawa. Oh, the fun didn’t stop there. We still had to meet my sponsor from my new job, drive through downtown Naha which is like… I’m not even going to get started… and then checked into our hotel. The day started at 5 a.m. Central and ended at 1:30 a.m. Tokyo time—technically two days later.

So we’ve been here for about six weeks and my wife is expecting to give birth any day. That day came on July 2. I remember pulling up to the front of the hospital, jetting out of the car to notify someone to grab a wheelchair. They did. And thank God—you’ll see why.

At this point my wife is going upstairs to get checked in after a night of contractions. Our experience has always been quick births, so we wanted to get her checked and comfortable as soon as possible. Meanwhile I had to park the car and get the kids into their shoes and into the building.

I’m hurrying as fast as I can up the elevator, around the corner, to the door where the nurse has to buzz me in. Wrong door! (I learned later that everyone gets this wrong.) We run to the next door down the hall and get buzzed in. I look directly at the nurse: “Jessica McAfee. She must have just walked in.”

“She did,” she says, pointing to the door.

I didn’t even hear it because I was so panicked to get back to her as quickly as possible, but there’s the clear sound of a baby screaming behind the door he pointed at. You know that sensation when you put two and two together, and you know it took microseconds, but it feels like a few full seconds?

Then the nurse says “Congratulations”, just as I realized what had happened.

She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. We named him Dominic. She checked in at 7:49 a.m., and Dominic arrived at 7:59 a.m. Ten minutes of labor.

Now, like I said, we’re new to the island and we’re still finding our way into our Catholic community. I would break down the Catholic community where we live into two divisions: those belonging to the Diocese of Naha where the Masses are offered in Japanese, and those belonging to or affiliated with the U.S. Military. We, of course, fit into the latter. So one of the top concerns we’ve had is scheduling a baptism. Personally, I believe children should be baptized as quickly as possible because of this. There are dozens of saint stories where children were baptized within moments of their birth and I would have it that way, if it were possible. But it’s not.

So I am relegated to find a chaplain priest, of which there is a great shortage, and ask him to schedule my family to receive the sacrament.

Just this week I arrived at Mass and before the liturgy gets underway, I approach the priest to inquire. We exchange information, we go our separate ways, and he begins the Mass.

The homily he gave was about a parent’s involvement in vocations, and the concern he has with the shortage of priests. I’m nodding. Then he says something to the effect of, “maybe one day they’ll ordain women. That might be a solution, but when you have a hierarchy of men they are usually not willing to let their power go.” I’m not nodding anymore.

What? “This is not happening”, I think to myself. My wife and I look at each other. We didn’t blink.

Forget all the replies that were coming to my mind like a million people trying to get through the doors of a Macy’s on Black Friday. He’s openly preaching, during Mass, in favor of a teaching that runs counter to his own ordination.

Despite this, believe it or not, what was lingering in the front of my mind was, I asked this priest to baptize my child! And am I still going to have him do it? You bet.

Disagree? Have you ever heard of the “Donatist” sect of early Christianity? No, they weren’t the one who enjoyed pastries after Church. They were much more dangerous than that.

They were a group of Christians (3rd and 4th century) who were rigorists, zealous for a lifestyle they believe was only Christian if it upheld the highest piety. The Roman Emperor Diocletian offered relief of his severe persecutions to North African Christians if they handed over their Scriptures, a sort of symbolic repudiation of their faith. Well, of course, word got back to epicenters of Christianity and the sect soon became known as “traditores”, which meant “those who handed over (holy) things”. The Donatists took immediate exception to this, and when a new bishop – said to be a traditor – was elected to the seat of Carthage, they drew up their own bishop who was succeeded by Donatus.

A commission by Pope Miltiades was created to decide if the rigors of the Donatists should hold up to the Apostolic faith. They did not, and the Donatists became a group of renegade Christians, preaching that their version of the faith was the only true version.

You must understand that the primary grievance of Donatists was that the sacraments should not be administered by unholy priests. They demanded the highest forms of piety and penance, and if a priest or bishop could not attain to this holiness, their very ordination and spiritual authority was nullified.

They enjoyed great popularity even into the days of St. Augustine of Hippo, disappearing only with the Arab conquest of the 7th and 8th centuries.

But the impulse behind Donatism didn’t completely disappear, did it? Many Catholics still understandably worry about the effect that a priest’s sins might have on the validity or efficacy of the sacraments.

No doubt, for every Christian, there are certainly non-negotiables when it comes to voting and civil policy, and a soul marked by mortal sin is dead until a proper confession, absolution, and penance are satisfied. A priest might have an illusory agenda, and it’s another thing to remark on the possibility of Vatican policy that contrasts our faith. But a priest is a priest is a priest. When their ordination is valid, the sacraments they administer are valid. End of story. Now, there are certain disciplines the Church may impose upon errant clerics, but abuses, vice, sin, ineptitude, and boring homilies do not remove the validity of an ordination.

I take this lesson seriously. Pope Miltiades made a big move when his commission had affirmed the proper application of a priest’s ordination in light of their piety or lack thereof. By this teaching, even if a priest is involved in a sinful lifestyle, they still have the authority to absolve sins. I know, that would seem contradictory, I do. But this assumes that a priests is not held to the standard to which they are given the authority to absolve. However, this all goes back to who the powers and graces of sacrament are derived: God. Even if an ordained priest preaches what seems to be a promotion of the ordination of women, he is still a validly ordained priest, able to change the substance of ordinary bread and wine into the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, administer extreme unction to a person close to death, and so forth.

We should always seek the utmost piety, challenge our peer Catholics, hold our priests accountable, and have high esteem for those who serve as excellent examples of holiness and virtue. But if we refuse graces that are offered for our benefit, simply because the human channels of grace are especially flawed or sinful, we harm only ourselves. And like the Donatists, we have an enemy who wants to take advantage of our division.

And that’s why my son will be baptized by this priest, even if I severely disagree with him.