Augustus, My Sponsor.

My son Augustus Pennoyer was born in April 2021, after ten years of marriage. I have been a latecomer to many things in life, and this was another datapoint of a long arc of life-learning. There I was, a sexuagenarian with a newborn.

My wife Gabrijela is a Catholic raised in a Catholic country, Croatia, where some 95% are Roman Catholics. Two things happened when we were married: first, I learned with a thunder-clap that I had never been baptised. When I telephoned my mother for my baptismal credentials to give to the priest, she replied in a way only a Mother could. “Oh, you’re not baptised, you’re a heathen!” she mused (with this author’s embellishment). I was gobsmacked. Particularly since all of my grandparents were prominent ministers in the church: African Methodist Episcopal (AME) and Baptist. Father’s father was a preacher. The other thing that happened is that I wanted to be married in my wife’s faith. We navigated ourselves through Pre-Cana in New York, but I was not yet an accepted member of the Church.

Augustus Pennoyer was born, and we naturally decided that he would be baptised to the Catholic Church. The priest, a young man in his thirties was gracious; we did not have all of the proper paperwork for him to preside over my son’s baptism. But he observed the love in our young family and relented. Augustus was baptised in August 2021 in Kastav Croatia at Sveta Jelena. Grateful, I promised the young priest that upon my return to New York, I would embark the process to be baptised myself, with Augustus as my ostensible Sponsor. After some time, and surprisingly a series of tepid responses from a number of NY congregations, I joined the St Ignatius Loyola Church catechumen process.

Indeed, the catechumen process was a seven-month commitment. I attended church for two to three days per week learning the Sacraments. Sometime during this journey to the body of Christ, our Sponsors asked us, the catechumens, what were our ‘intentions’ and what we wished for from the Church.  We would make our declaration in front of the Church at Mass.

It was a worthy question.  I thought about it quite a lot, and, in particular, I pondered how to phrase my decision in a single sentence. I was afraid my unchecked answer might consume the whole service! I declared my intention thusly:  “To affirm that the Lord Jesus Christ has always been, and forever is, my companion, and Savior.”

I have always felt that the God has been with me, an always-present whisper of encouragement and guidance for as long as I have been self-aware.  And it was confirmed with each reading of the Bible, the Christ Among Us and other prayers that were assigned to us.  I did not always call the Word, God.  I am not certain what I called it before this journey, but I knew it was there.  And each week’s readings spoke to me, as if a reminiscence.  The voice seemed familiar.

“We cannot attain the presence of God because we’re already totally in the presence of God. What’s absent is awareness.” ~Richard Rohr, OFM


Thus one of my favorite readings was that of Jesus Christ speaking to a congregation, who were seeking an peremptory sign of the Messiah. Jesus told them that God is, indeed, present but that they would best find God through the inward examination of themselves, inward reflection.  Disappointed to hear that God was not a visible all-powerful avatar, they ridiculed Jesus.  It was incredulous to them to belive that God had already and always been forever present; that the intimate journey inward would strengthen one’s personal relationship to God. An infinity of personal actualisation and salvation. But it resonated with me and the path I chose with St Igantius Loyolas Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) was my steward…. A special opportunity for latecomers like me.

I have loved the tacit emphasis in RCIA of what I believe to be the “low barrier to entry.”  God’s Kingdom is immanently accessible. Anyone can enter, no matter where one has been or how lost, or damaged is one’s spiritual GPS.   The principles of love (for one another), for forgiveness, redemption, humility -- and the recognition that we are all imperfect --  bring us closer to God.  The joy of God’s love is available to anyone who seeks it, and it is there even if one does not seek it.  It is always there as light to pierce the darkeness — perhaps the “guiding whisper” — whether one seeks it or not. The Word is present. I love that.

The reconciliation of what I have learned through self-examination in life, with the Word, the Holy Spirit, has been a profound gift.  I could not wait to know the baptismal water on my head.  I let it run down my face as I was reluctant to wipe it away.  Amen!  Hallelujah! I rejoice.

Lastly, I am particularly grateful and proud to have completed the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) at St Ignatius Loyola. I had contacted a number of potential parishes over the years, and I was astounded at the lack of response. I felt I had been called, but there were no answers until I heard from Maureen Fullam. I am grateful we found each other.  I miss the RCIA sessions of communal reading and open discussion of RCIA.  Finding Christ is such a personal journey; no one person has precisely the same calling or reason. And yet, here we stood well-aligned on the path to God. I was deeply grateful to hear the experiences of our RCIA ‘facilitators’ and those of my ‘classmates.’

And now I am thrilled to be a member of the Ministry of Hospitality and to have the occasional opportunity to be a Lector. It is with great responsibility and a great joy to ‘touch’ my fellow parishioners on their way to the eucharist of the Solemn Mass. I see them all. Some are burdened, others happy, some simply curious or sad, but we are all there, convened, to remember Christ and to offer our connection to Him and to offer prayers for one another. The Hospitality Ministry deepens my connection to the Body of Christ, and the honor of being Lector
enables me to learn the Scripture in a tangible way. It is also a great responsibility to participate in the worship of my fellow parishioners and an honor. The unison of “Thanks be to God” moves me. I think of The Solemn Mass as, well, solemn but also a celebration.... that Christ is among us and that the Holy Spirit lives in each, and every one, of us. I look forward to every Mass, its Readings, the gospel and homily as if they are rays of Light. If you see me smiling at Mass, it is because, well, I am happy. Please say “Hello.” Truly, I treasure this journey.