New Year! There is something about this time, at least where I live, in this portion of the Lord’s vineyard, in which the ice and snow engender thoughts about summer with green grass, radiant sun and refreshing waters. I am reminded of the first, and probably last, time I went kayaking. As a novice, I do not know if I was prepared to weather the rapids, not to mention the rocks interspersed along the way. It did not take long for me to be “baptized,” so to speak, as my kayak rolled over and I found myself in cold, raging waters. Thankfully, by the grace of God, I held onto the kayak and could upright myself, and, more importantly, lived to talk about it.

That day I learned that water can be so powerful. One need not be a kayaker to appreciate the power of water. When I was a seminarian studying in Rome, I remember a rare, almost miraculous day when it snowed, and the fire brigade used fire hoses to wash away the snow. Thankfully, the water from those same hoses extinguished fire. Anyone who owns a power washer also knows how powerful water can be in taking away dirt and grime and making things look pristine.

This month we celebrate the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. This moment always seems to encourage a reflection on the power of water that can take one to unexpected places and depths. On the day of our Christian baptism, I wonder if our parents or godparents ever envisioned that our baptism would lead us to stand at God’s altar and act in the person of Christ. Or, as we became formed in the Faith, did we ever dream that one day we would have the privilege of being ministers of baptism? How blessed we are to have a front-row seat to behold this incredible power and witness its rippling effects.

But this power can become all too familiar as we aspire to follow Jesus. Even as priests, we can take this extraordinary power for granted. I liken it to living near an ocean or lake. When I speak with people who have the luxury of living so close to the water, the situation seems to become mundane and ordinary. The repetition of celebrating baptisms can become just as commonplace. Nevertheless, the waters that we bless and pour forth on a candidate begin a relationship with Christ and his Church containing many twists, turns and surprises.

It is not just the water we pour over the head of someone for baptism. There is the tiny drop of water we pour into the chalice at holy Mass with the words, “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.” There is the water we sprinkle on the faithful at holy Mass during certain times in the liturgical year. There is also the water we use to bless the rings of a bride and groom as a sign of their love and fidelity, or to bless any object, place or person.

There is the sprinkling of water that can be used during Communion of the Sick in Ordinary Circumstances visits with the words, “Let this water call to mind our baptism into Christ, who by his death and resurrection has redeemed us” or, “Like a stream in parched land, may the grace of the Lord refresh our lives.” There is also the water we as priests splash on a casket housing the mortal remains of a parishioner with the words, “In the waters of Baptism N. died with Christ and rose with him to new life. May he (she) now share with him eternal glory.” Let us not forget the water we bless ourselves with upon entering a church.

Although we may not find ourselves on a kayak or boat, we are amid these powerful waters every day. These waters take us and those whom we serve to unexpected places and empower us to do what seems so impossible at times — namely, to forgive those who hurt us, love our enemies and pray for our persecutors. I do not believe I will go kayaking again, but I will remain ever grateful for the lesson I learned about the power of water, especially the holy water I touch every day.

BISHOP DAVID J. BONNAR, editor of The Priest, is bishop of the Diocese of Youngstown.