Welcoming the newly baptized: A letter to 'Granddaughter'
Dear Readers: I won't often write about faith on Philosopher Grandma: I struggle with it, and it's not the focus of this blog. But faith and Christian practice are part of my life, and I'm one of Granddaughter's godparents. So on the joyous occasion of her baptism, I'm making an exception. As you'll see, I got some much-needed help. (Thank you John, Helen, Betsy, and Mary.)
Dear 'Granddaughter,'
You were born in Minneapolis just before our city reminded the world of what “love your neighbor” means. A few months later, you were baptized on Pentecost Sunday, May 24, 2026, by the Rev. Tim Kingsley. I am one of your godparents; your Grandma Patti is the other. The sacrament was at my church, St. Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral. I got some help from wise members of the church to put in words what I hope your baptism will mean to you and for you.
John, the first person I asked, said the message he would want to send you is, “Never forget that God loves you, no matter what happens in life.” Everyone hopes your life will mostly be filled with good things, but John is saying that even if bad things happen, or even if you do something you wish you hadn’t, God will love you. No matter what. If you can feel God’s love even a little bit, it will help you love yourself and others for the rest of your life.
The second person, Helen, wanted to tell you, “Attend to and honor your spirit as you grow and mature and change as a caring person. Ask always, how does your spirit guide you?” What you’ll learn by attending and honoring and asking will keep changing as you change and as circumstances change. I hope for you that you learn this habit of reflection, and that it will serve you well. It’s part of what’s needed to fulfill my favorite part of the baptism prayers, where we asked God to “Give 'Granddaughter' an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.”
Mary wanted to welcome you into community, in a couple ways. One way is that your baptism connects you with all the people who have been and will be baptized, and with God. It reminds you that you’re connected with everyone who hasn’t been baptized, too, and with the grace and love that runs through everything. Your parents and godparents wanted you to be part of that giant communion, so we spoke up for you at your baptism ceremony.
The other kind of community baptism offers is the here-and-now community of being part of a church. Already you received a warm welcome at St. Mark’s. Three separate women in the church honored your crying at your baptism, each saying in her own way that they hoped you’d always speak up when you’re uncomfortable (they saw your discerning heart and courage to will showing up already!). St. Mark’s may never be your church, but I hope you find a healthy faith community that feels like home.
Finally, Betsy hoped you would embrace “walking wet”—meaning that you would live your life according to your baptismal covenant. As she knows, that’s not so easy to do. It wasn’t easy in Minneapolis this past winter. In fact, people spend their whole lives getting better at loving their neighbor and loving God. That’s part of why, she said, she tells godparents that their role is to be a companion to their godchild, not a teacher or leader. (Good news for both of us, because I need a lot of practice!)
As your godmother and your grandmother, I fervently hope you can come to feel all those connections and all that love in your bones, and that you can grow into sharing that love with the rest of the world, in whatever ways God leads you in your times. As your godmother, I’m so happy to be your companion in looking and feeling and growing into love as long as I can,
With so much love,
Grandma