Inattention to Dogma Doesn’t Invalidate Baptism in God’s Eyes

Catholics of Arizona, rest easy. You are indeed a part of the true body of Christ, even if legalism in the Catholic Church deems you unbaptized thanks to a one-word error.

Father Andres Arango, a priest in Phoenix, Arizona, has resigned from St. Gregory Catholic Church after it was determined that, for decades, he incorrectly performed thousands of baptisms. Father Arango mistakenly used the words, "We baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," instead of the correct phrase, "I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," explained Thomas J. Olmsted, the bishop of the Diocese of Phoenix, in a letter posted to the diocese website.

In Catholic baptismal tradition, the word "I" stands for Christ acting through the priest, so using the word "we" in baptism ostensibly substitutes the church community for Christ himself.

Baptism in the Catholic Church is the first sacrament – the sacrament of initiation. So, while those baptized by Fr. Arango may not technically be in the Catholic Church due to man-made language rules, they are in God's family. Christ has already entered the baptism in the second half of the sentence in question: "We baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." Stringent orthodoxy can't change the fact that biblical baptism has been accomplished.

But as I learned in my own journey to Catholicism, this is not the only example of the Church's rigid insistence on attaching dogma to divine sacraments.

I married a Catholic at 23. I was pregnant, and while I did not attend church and had never been baptized, I did believe in God. My fiancé knew we could never be married in a Catholic church because, although he was a Catholic in good standing who had even served as an altar boy, I was not officially a Catholic. No priest would bless our marriage either, because we did not have enough time to participate in pre-Cana classes (a course for couples preparing to be married in a Catholic church). The Church that my husband had been faithful to since childhood could not support him at one of the most important (and frankly, stressful) forks in the road of his life.

Rather than live together unmarried, we wanted to welcome the Catholic Church into our new little family through the sacrament of marriage. But dogma forced the Church to respectfully decline that role.

We ended up being married in a Church of the Nazarene my parents were attending at the time. The church community welcomed us wholeheartedly, and the minister consistently offered encouragement and support, affirming that we were on the right track by forming our little family under the canopy of God's blessing.

That following summer found me in a vacation rental at Cape Cod, a baby crib at the foot of the bunk beds my new husband and I were sleeping in. It was steaming hot in the tiny room, and I tried repeatedly to give my fussy baby his bottle, wondering if I would even see the ocean that week.

My husband came up and stood in the doorway, looking sheepish. "We still need to have our marriage blessed," he said. "It would make my family happy; it's like we aren't really married yet, since it hasn't been blessed by the church."

I looked around at the bunkbeds, the travel crib, the overflowing diaper pail by the door, and down at my sweet baby. "If this isn't married," I replied, "I don't know what is."

I loved my new family and was anxious to make them happy, so we met with a priest who, after an hourlong meeting, agreed to bless our marriage. He said that we were doing what the Church deemed right; we had gotten married and were attending Mass. The message was that we had proven ourselves, and now the Church would be happy to bless our union. The blessing ceremony was beautiful and even though I wasn't a Catholic, I felt God's approval and love very strongly. I later became Catholic myself, and the adult Catholicism classes I took to prepare me for baptism and confirmation helped me to understand and appreciate my newly adopted faith.

That doesn't mean I understand every aspect of Catholic doctrine. I don't understand why priests are unable to get married, or why my good Christian, but non-Catholic, parents are unable to receive communion when visiting my church. I don't know why the Church couldn't support my faithful husband when he needed them most by participating in our wedding, and I wish we hadn't had to prove ourselves to receive its blessing.

Christ came to infuse the law with love. Paul tells the Romans in Chapter 8: 9-13 (NIV), "The commandments, 'You shall not commit adultery,' 'You shall not murder,' 'You shall not steal,' 'You shall not covet,' and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law."

We need more "love as fulfillment" from the Catholic Church when it comes to tangibly supporting those who sincerely seek God, and in this Arizona baptism issue.

The Phoenix diocese points to God's authority over man's law, offering thoughts which should serve as their lead, rather than their footnote: "It is important to note that, while God instituted the sacraments for us, He is not bound by them. Though they are our surest access to grace, God can grant His grace in ways known only to Him. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, God has bound Himself to the sacraments, but He is not bound by the sacraments."

And that's the whole ball of wax: God can do whatever He wants. These baptisms aren't invalid in Heaven, and that is where it counts. A blacksmith doesn't fret because a horse he shod can't gallop through a shopping mall; he only cares about the field – where the horse is destined to go. Sacred rituals need to search out the sacred.

In the Bible, John 3:5 finds Jesus saying to Nicodemus, "Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit." Christ said nothing of the exact language to be used in baptism, but nevertheless, for the last two thousand years, man has fastidiously layered rules and regulations onto sacred rites – rules that paradoxically lead us away from him: the carpenter in the dusty sandals, both human and divine, who came to save the world.

Old and rigid orthodoxies give the Catholic faith their reputation for harsh inflexibility. In a society whose faith is dwindling, we must offer more blunt truth about Jesus' saving grace instead of getting tangled up in red tape. Just as we must be concerned about sin today, and the fact that we do commit it, we need to abundantly share God's complete, unrestrained love for us, especially when it comes to children. We need to dispense with pomp and stay close to the Word; change or perish is the message the Catholic Church needs to hear.

Fr. Arango has apparently resigned his position as pastor of St. Gregory Parish. "He has not disqualified himself from his vocation and ministry, but, with the help of the Holy Spirit and in communion with diocesan leadership, he will dedicate his energy and full-time ministry to helping and healing those who were invalidly baptized," the parish website shared.

Putting love over law, God has already mended any supposed mistake through His perfect love for those Fr. Arango baptized.

Despite my concerns, I am proud to be a Catholic. In these trying days, if the Catholic Church can prioritize the love of Jesus Christ and dismiss these dogmas that furrow both lay and hierarchical brows, I believe the Catholic Church can be the greatest force for good on earth.

Deirdre Reilly is a writer whose work has appeared on Foxnews.com, TheFederalist.com, Dallasnews.com, Crosswalk.com, and others. She is also the author of "The Pretend Christian: Traveling Beyond Denomination to the True Jesus." (CrosslinkPublishing)