Candidly Speaking - 12/9/2022
On My Baptism and Confirmation
“Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”
Last Sunday, the 4th of September, 2022, I was baptized and confirmed at the St. Joseph Cathedral, located in downtown Hanoi. The church was built during the French colonial period, and is now a popular tourist spot. Witnessing my initiation as a Catholic were the Archbishop of Hanoi (pictured), my godfather - a singer and television presenter, my cousin - the only Catholic member in my extended family, sixteen of my fellow converts, and hundreds of my co-religionists attending Mass that day. And of course, The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
As I am writing these words, the significance of that ceremony finally dawned on me. I begin to think about how I became convinced that there is a God, and that the Bible was truly His word. I thought about how I became a Catholic: after a few months back in Vietnam, I met my cousin during Tet (Vietnamese New Year) and asked him if I can accompany him during Mass on Sunday. That was in February of 2022, and I have been going to Mass almost every Sunday since. My cousin introduced me to the church’s curate, a young priest who had also recently finished his studies in Canada (small world, indeed). The father, Joseph Tran Ngoc Vang, helped me enroll in a six-month initiation course, called the Catechesis, where I and about sixty others go to every Wednesday evening to learn about Christianity, the Catholic Church, and the prayers we would recite every Mass. Most of them were engaged couples, looking to get married as Catholics. But a few of us went to class as singles, eager to receive the grace of Christ. After six months and some hard effort, I passed the course, and along with the single converts, I participated in four successive ceremonies, each taking place during Sunday Mass at 6pm, the last one was where I received the three Sacraments: Baptism, Confirmation, and the Eucharist. Nothing says being left out more than when you are in Catholic Mass and they say you cannot join the congregation in receiving the Body and Blood of Christ. But on that Sunday, the fourth of September, I was finally included in the long line of believers, ready to receive the sanctified Communion bread and wine. It marked the end of my life as a non-believer, and the beginning of my life as a child of God.
It was not until a few weeks before this ceremony that I gave any thoughts on the crucial question: Why did I wish to become a Catholic? I thought about the man who inspired me to become a Catholic, the same man who moderated by burgeoning political conservatism: William F. Buckley Jr. At the same time, I thought about a man who kept me away from religious belief when I was in Canada: Christopher Hitchens. While Hitchens taught me to think, argue, and when necessary, offend, Buckley taught me what to think about, what to argue for and against, and what not to offend. Hitchens was right about many things, but he was wrong about the undeniable value of religious faith in spiritual and public life. Buckley was wrong about many things, but he inspired me in his unwavering belief in God and the Catholic Church. Ironically enough, Hitchens would be rolling in his grave if he finds out that reading him helped me become a religious man (Buckley, in contrast, would be mildly pleased).
But my decision to become a Catholic was not political, but personal. I know full well the consequences of mixing religion and politics, and I was determined not to let that happen in my case. The first reason being that I accepted myself as a sinner, who is probably going to sin again (to quote Kendrick Lamar). Recognizing myself as a sinner means accepting that I am no different from every man, woman and child who has walked on this Earth. For many years, I suffered from an overwhelming sense of alienation. I never thought of myself as a member of everyday human society, and I identified greatly with outsider figures in classic literature (Holden Caulfield comes to mind). Christianity, on the other hand, values difference - Christ does not discriminate against any ethnicity or cultural background. But Christianity also values similarities - we are all children of God. As humans, we all sin, and we are small compared to the Almighty. When I was going through severe depression (which I still have to pay for with my excess weight), I never contemplated how much I may have wronged people. Rather, I was obsessing over how much my loved ones, my friends, and the larger society have wronged Me. Soon enough, this became a toxic mindset that drove even some of my most patient friends away, and barred me from having a meaningful romantic relationship for the better part of my early adult life. I think humans are always motivated by the need to belong, and I was no exception. Once I realized that I needed to adjust my worldview in order to take part in the common humanity, I began to ask for God’s divine mercy.
I am still coming to terms with my past mistakes, as well as I seeking atonement for past and present transgressions. While the atheist in me viewed God as a cruel being, I was still entertaining the idea of a forgiving God. Eventually, the believing part of me won, and I was compelled to trust in God’s boundless ability to forgive His sinners. The need for atonement and redemption was the second reason why I became a Catholic.
I have renounced the Prince of Darkness, and my soul belongs to Christ now. I thank God for showing me the path to His Church, and I pray that He forgive me for my sins, including any future transgressions against Him.