sacraments – Tony Lusvardi, S.J.

Infants and baptism of desire: one theologian’s perspective

As I mentioned earlier, over the summer God’s providence brought me into contact with a group of people dedicated to sharing the story of Baby Brian Gallagher. The circumstances of Baby Brian’s short life raise the question of babies who die before baptism and baptism of desire, and the group asked me to write up a one page summary of the argument I present in my book Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation. Of course, for the full story–and much else besides–buy the book! What I wrote is not intended as a full pastoral response to those who have lost a child too soon, but a very brief sketch of the theological issues involved.

Theologians have a precise mission within the Church. Our task is not to “create” the truth, but to use the tools of reason and study to understand better what God has revealed to us. When it comes to salvation, theologians don’t “decide” what the Church believes; we merely try to express with greater clarity what we find in Christian revelation.

Good theologians, then, must be humble and cautious in what they claim. Historically, theologians have found the question of what happens to babies who die before baptism particularly difficult. We know that baptism is necessary for salvation (John 3:5) because baptism is the unique way Jesus has revealed for us to participate in his death and resurrection (Romans 6:3-5). At the same time, the doctrine of baptism of desire has found strong support among theologians and in the Church’s official teaching. Baptism of desire does not deny the necessity of baptism or create an alternative to the sacrament. Instead, the doctrine means that those who desire the sacrament but are prevented by circumstances beyond their control from receiving it can still obtain baptism’s effect—rebirth to eternal life.

Historically, most—but not all—theologians have had trouble seeing how baptism of desire could apply in the case of infants who are too young to formulate a desire of their own. After a decade studying baptism of desire, however, I believe that these theologians have tended to leave out a decisive piece of evidence: our practice of the sacrament of baptism. The key theological principle that has been neglected up until now is known as lex orandi—lex credendi, which means “the law of prayer is the law of belief.” In other words, the way we celebrate the sacraments is itself a guide to what is true. In this case, the Church’s firmly-established practice invites us to look more deeply into how to understand the desire for baptism in regard to infants.

Summer articles

The October start of the Roman academic year means that I am wrapping up my time in the States before heading home (and back to work!) next week. Nonetheless, I haven’t been idle over the course of the summer. In addition to seminars and retreats, I published a couple of articles which might be of interest.

First Things asked me to weigh in on the questions surrounding transsexuals and the sacrament of baptism: Can Transsexuals Be Baptized?

America magazine also published a long-planned article on baptism of desire, in which I distinguish the implications for evangelization of my position from those of two other people I admire but (partially) disagree with: Is there salvation outside baptism? A better way of looking at a difficult question.

The relationship between salvation and evangelization, however, is only one of the difficult questions my book addresses. I also suggest a new approach to the question of unbaptized infants and children dying in utero. This summer, I was contacted by some folks involved in ministry to Catholic parents who have lost children either through miscarriage or in early infancy. I found a quite enthusiastic reception for my work among those who are involved in this kind of grief ministry, and, a week ago, a group of the faithful put up a statement online in support of the position that I advance in my book: that baptism of desire can, in some cases, apply to the children of Christian parents. You can find this statement in support of the development of doctrine I outline here and sign if you wish: A Statement of Hope regarding Salvation through Baptism of Desire for Infants.

The statement also mentions the case of baby Brian Gallagher, whose grave I visited at Black Hills National Cemetery. On the outskirts of the cemetery I snapped a photo of a quintessentially American scene: a giant flag waving from a piece of heavy machinery with the Western landscape in the background. What else is there to say but, God bless the USA!

Mary’s Assumption: the ultimate celebration of the human body

Homily for the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (from 2021.)

Crowning of the Virgin, St. Martin’s Cathedral, Spišská Kapitula, Slovakia

Ounce per ounce, the largest bone in our body, the femur, is stronger than steel. Laid out end to end, the blood vessels from an adult’s body could circle the globe four times. Our brains contain 86 billion nerve cells, which are joined by 100 trillion connections.

Right now in your brains several million of those connections are lighting up asking, “What in the world is he talking about? Nice factoids, padre, but what do they have to do with anything?” The answer is that today’s feast, among the most solemn on the Church’s calendar, is a celebration of the human body.

Today we celebrate the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the dogma that at the end of her life Mary was taken up soul and body into heavenly glory. This dogma is more than just an interesting factoid. It is deeply relevant to each one of us because Christianity professes belief in the resurrection of the body. St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians talks about Christ’s resurrection as “the firstfruits” of a much larger harvest. In a sense, Mary’s Assumption is also a guarantee that the fruits of the resurrection will be shared with the whole Church. Mary, the first Christian believer, the first to receive the news of Jesus’ Incarnation, represents the Church in a way nobody else can.

We human beings are both body and soul. We are not souls trapped in a body; our bodies are part of who we are. Angels are souls without bodies, but we are not angels. If the resurrection were an entirely spiritual phenomenon, it wouldn’t be us rising from the dead. This is why Jesus became incarnate, coming in the flesh. It is why the Gospels insist so forcefully that, when Jesus rose from the dead, he had not become a ghost or a hologram but remained a man who ate food and whose flesh bore the wounds of his passion. It is why the sacraments require material elements, and not just any material elements but specific elements connected to Jesus’ physical existence on earth.

Screens & Sacraments: a response

Last week I was pleased to take part in a conference organized by at the Gregorian University’s Faculty of History and Culture and the Institute of Liturgy at the University of Santa Croce entitled L’edificio di culto e gli artisti: A 25 anni dal primo Giubileo degli Artisti (2000-2025). The theme was church architecture and art over the past 25 years. The conference brought together an impressive group of international architects, artists, and theologians.

My own rather modest contribution was to extend the reflection I began in November’s issue of First Things on “Screens and Sacraments.” The talk seemed to produce a good deal of agreement that we need to be more discerning in how we allow technology to intrude on our sacred spaces.

On a related note, I was also happy to read a quite generous response to my article from Kevin Martin of Raleigh, North Carolina in the January 2025 issue of First Things. He reports being “strong-armed against [his] better judgement into Zooming the liturgy during the first year of the pandemic,” but eventually abandoning the practice because it felt wrong for many of the reasons I discussed in my article. He wonders, however, if I do not concede too much by suggesting that it might be OK to continue to broadcast the Liturgy of the Word, while stopping at the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

It’s a thoughtful question. I’d begin by saying that I am by no means arguing that one must broadcast any form of worship, and I have no quarrel with the decision of Rev. Martin’s church to give up streaming altogether. At the same time, I’m not an absolutist when it comes to technology, and some of the goods that people claim from broadcast Masses are real. Sick parishioners in particular can be helped to pray by seeing images of the liturgy online and comforted by the sight of their home church and familiar faces. These might supplement pastoral outreach to the homebound, without replacing it. I’m a little more skeptical about the evangelical or formative value of e-liturgy, since I think its appeal is mainly to those who have already been sufficiently formed by real liturgy.

Taking the gold for Team Humanity: homily for the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Homily for the Assumption

Raphael, *Coronation of the Virgin*, Vatican Museums

My brothers and sisters, I’m no angel. Before you respond with too much glee, “Oh, Father, we know,” let me point out—you’re no angels, either.

Now, when people say, “He’s no angel,” usually what they’re saying doesn’t mean what they think it does. Usually, if someone says, “He’s no angel,” they mean, “He’s not so nice.” Maybe there are a few skeletons in his closet.

But not all the angels were good. Lucifer and the demons are angels, and they have so many skeletons there’s no room for clothes in their closets. Today’s great feast is dedicated to a woman who never sinned. But today, the feast of the Assumption, we celebrate the fact that Mary is no angel. She is a human being. A woman. One of us.

You see, because the real reason demons don’t have clothes in their closets is because they don’t have anything to wear them on. Angels don’t have bodies. But we do. That’s the difference between angels and human beings. Otherwise, we’re quite a bit alike. We both have intelligence and free will—which is how the fallen angels sinned. The big difference is the body.

Today we celebrate the fact that at the end of her life on earth, Mary’s body entered immediately into heavenly glory.

And, my friends, this is not some bit of religious trivia, but something very, very important for each one of us. Because it means that to be saved, to enter into heavenly glory, we don’t have to give up being human. We don’t have to become angels. God wants to save us as human beings, which is why his plan for our salvation involved taking the flesh of Mary, a woman, to become a man, so that we, women and men, might be saved in our human bodies.

Intentions, motives, and what makes for a valid sacrament

The question of invalid baptisms has been in the news recently. In my commentary on the question in La Civiltà Cattolica, I pointed out that the Vatican’s most recent document on the question, Gestis verbisque, gives renewed attention to the minister’s intention. For a sacrament to be valid, a minister must intend to do what the Church does when celebrating that sacrament. And that means that if he changes what the Church prescribes in her official liturgical texts–by inserting his own words or deleting something required to be there–then he manifests an intention to do something else. It’s just as straightforward as it sounds. The proof is not in the pudding, but in the action.

Last week, however, another question was sent to the Vatican about what sort of intention might invalidate a sacrament, this time an ordination. The question proposed the distasteful case of a bishop who ordained a man with whom he had engaged in an illicit sexual relationship. Could he possibly have the right intention? Wouldn’t such a sinful situation invalidate the ordination?

The article in which this question was raised described it as “potentially explosive.” Fortunately, this grenade was defused by St. Augustine in the fifth century. The great theologian was responding to controversy about the validity of baptisms, whether the sinfulness of a minster invalidated the sacrament. He responded no. Augustine’s principle has remained a bedrock of sacramental theology ever since. It is really Christ who baptizes, Augustine said, and he can do so even through profoundly imperfect human instruments. The same goes for ordinations. Augustine sagely realized that if perfection were required of ministers in order for sacraments to be valid, then we simply wouldn’t have sacraments.

So how does Augustine’s principle fit with the requirement that one has to have the right intention to celebrate a sacrament validly? Here we have to make what might at first seem like a rather technical distinction but is, once you’ve thought the question through, also rather straightforward. The distinction is between intention and motive.

Sacraments, incarnation, and the body

Madonna of the Pilgrims, (1604-6) Caravaggio, Church of Sant’Agostino, Rome

I’ve shared the work of theologian Fr. Robert Imbelli before. Here is another piece from him about a theme near to my heart, the “sacramental sense,” a phrase he takes from St. John Henry Newman.

Imbelli makes a point that has struck me before as well, that our society’s neglect of the transcendent is oddly connected to an unease with the body. We see this unease with our own bodies in everything from the explosion in the popularity of piercings and tattoos to the growth of eating disorders. Sex-changes are perhaps the most dramatic example of turning against one’s own flesh.

One of the sad marks of our secular age is a paradoxical double loss. Not only do we struggle to find access to the other dimension, that is, the spiritual, but we also seem impervious to the true sense of the material. Our sacramental sense has atrophied. Indeed, these two losses may be intricately connected.

Imbelli quotes philosopher Charles Taylor to argue that secular people today live lives of “excarnation,” disconnected from the communities and traditions that bore them. We live increasingly rootless lives. In contrast to this “excarnation,” Imbelli quotes Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins and points toward our Eucharistic faith. He hints at the way that this sacrament directs us toward a relationship with creation–and our own embodied part in it– that is rooted, first of all, in gratitude.

Read the rest of Imbelli’s piece at the Catholic Thing.

Romano Guardini on the liturgy

In preparation for I talk I gave last week to a group of seminary rectors from Africa and Asia, I read Romano Guardini’s short but profound book Liturgy and Liturgical Formation.

Guardini was one of the twentieth century’s sharpest and most balanced theological minds, and his writings on the liturgy are particularly valuable. He understands the irreducibility of liturgy and liturgical symbols and has absorbed the way the Fathers experienced liturgy, best exemplified by the line from Pope St. Leo the Great’s Ascension homily: “What was visible in the Lord has passed over into the mysteries.”

Chapel of San Basilio, Maracalagonis, Sardinia

Here are a few gems from Liturgy and Liturgical Formation:

“Liturgy does not deal with knowledge but with reality. There is knowledge of the liturgical action, which precedes it and could be called liturgical knowledge. And there is knowledge within it; the liturgical event allows an insight into itself. To speak of this today is not easy because it has escaped our religious consciousness at large. The liturgy itself is not merely knowledge but a full reality, which embraces much more than knowledge alone: a doing, an order, and the being of itself.” (13)

Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation

My book Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation is now available to order, though its shipping date will be a little later. Its official publication date was originally last Friday but now seems to have been bumped to March. I’ve been working on the topic of baptism of desire since my STL studies at Sant’Anselmo–a good six years ago–so it has been a long time coming. I think the result says some important things for Catholic theology and the evangelizing mission of the Church. So let me assure you, it’s worth the wait!

I’ll have more on the topic to say, of course, and I’ll share the reactions of others to the book so you don’t have to take my word for it. For now I’ll just share the official description from Catholic University of America Press. The book is available directly from CUA’s website as well as other online booksellers such as Amazon. This spring CUA is offering a 20% discount on new books with the promo code CT10. Make sure that your library gets a copy, too!

Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation. Belief in the necessity of baptism for salvation is rooted in the New Testament and was forcefully affirmed by the Church Fathers, yet today this belief is treated with unease if not ignored altogether. Over the course of centuries, Catholic theology has wrestled with a doctrine—baptism of desire—that both preserves this fundamental principle and allows for salvation in hard cases, such as catechumens dying unexpectedly. Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation traces this doctrine’s varied history, from its genesis in a fourth century funeral oration given by Ambrose of Milan to its uneasy position in the Anonymous Christianity of Karl Rahner.

More than a history, however, this book raises questions about the nature of religious ritual and the sacraments, the mission of the Church, and the essence of salvation. Arguing that theologians of the past two centuries have tended to downplay the role of the sacraments when discussing salvation, Lusvardi suggests that baptism should remain our theological starting point. Engaging with the theological tradition and at times challenging the conventional wisdom, Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation shows how such a sacramental approach can offer credible—and sometimes surprising—responses to questions related to the salvation of non-Christians, the fate of unbaptized infants, and the relevance of the Church’s mission today.

The waters of Australia

After a couple of months in Western Australia and half a year Down Under, I am still amazed by the diversity of this island continent’s landscapes. This includes unparalleled bio-diversity–all the birds and marsupials and one-of-a-kind wonders, like the platypus, that look like something out of a Dr. Seuss book–as well as the geological curiosities.

The Twelve Apostles, Victoria, Australia

On this, the driest of Earth’s continents, I’ve been especially fascinated by water. Most of Australia’s population (almost 90%) live within 30 miles of the coast, and some of the country’s greatest wonders–the Great Barrier Reef, for example–lie underwater. My own fascination with water comes in part from its sacramental usage. Water is the one physical element necessary for baptism and, thus, entry into Christianity.