The Pennsylvania grand jury report on child sexual abuse in the Catholic Church was released a week before my son Eli’s Baptism was scheduled to take place at the 10 am Mass in the Saint Thomas More Chapel, and in the days that followed, I thought a lot about the question that begins the baptismal rite: “What do you ask of the Church?” The answer is simple: “Baptism.” But seven years ago, when my husband and I brought our daughter Ruth to be baptized, I somehow missed that fact, and answered Father Bob as if he had asked me an actual, open-ended question. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was heartfelt—and also much longer than it was supposed to be. I asked for grace and challenge and encouragement and consolation for my child throughout her life; I asked for a rich and resilient faith tradition; I asked for a community that would recognize and value my child’s unique gifts and help her to recognize and value them, too, a community that would teach her to discern right from wrong and to act humbly and courageously in response, a community that would be the embodied presence of Christ in her life and that would draw her ever closer to him. Like I said, it was long. (Father Bob, bless his heart, didn’t bat an eye.)

This time around I was better prepared. When Father Gerry asked what we asked of the Church, I said, “Baptism.” And in light of the soul-searing contents of that grand-jury report, the minimalism of that exchange seemed painfully apt. I know that, theologically speaking, the grace of the sacraments ought to be enough; I know, too, that the power of the Church to channel that grace has nothing to do with the merits or failings of its members. But still—so many who have turned to the Church in trust and in need have gotten so much less than they deserved. This is the body of Christ on earth: can’t we ask for more?

I am so grateful to belong to a Catholic community that does let me ask for more, and that listens patiently and responds generously when I do. And because it took place in this Chapel, in the company of so many people we love, Eli’s baptism was full of joy. But it was a complicated and uneasy joy—which is perhaps as it should be. For of the many gifts this community has given me, the one I appreciate most deeply is the space it holds for people to express both their love and their anger, their gratitude and their grief toward the Church.  Now more than ever, there is grace in that ambivalence.

 Join us at the 80th Anniversary Celebration of STM Chapel at Yale by following the link: https://stm.yale.edu/80-years