Some—perhaps even most—baptized Christians might find the sacrament’s irreversibility reassuring, a source of hope during the darkest hours of the night. Nothing they do, nothing done to them, will ever separate them from Christ, into whose death and resurrection they were baptized. Nor will anything separate them from Christ’s body—the Church universal—of which the baptized are individual members.

Imagine surviving a shipwreck. Imagine yourself feeling the fear of seeing the waves break apart pieces of ship, along with the sensation of sinking, of panic, and of gasping for air. Imagine losing not only your belongings, but also watching other people fight for their lives. Imagine nearly drowning, being washed ashore, or being rescued with barely an ounce of strength left. You’re traumatized, weather-beaten, and exhausted to the point of semi-consciousness.

Few have had a closer view of the ministry’s evolution than Sister Pamela Clare Magers of the Community of St. Francis, who has worked at the School for Deacons in the San Francisco Bay Area since 1982 and started teaching a course on “contemporary social issues” in 1984. Prior to the introduction of that course, the curriculum for the school focused on the educational topics required of priests, and the liturgical role of deacons serving at the altar.

I love these lines from a Prayer for Travel: “Lord, as I set off on my travels, I pray that You would be with me and remain close to me as my travel companion as I go on this journey, just as You walked with Your two disciples along the road after Your glorious resurrection. Fill my heart with Your peace and joy, and remove any anxious thoughts, I pray. Guide me Father, and keep me safe throughout my travels, even when I am passing through rough and difficult terrain.” When I was 15 and unpacking mementos from a souvenir shop, I never expected such resonant and recurring spiritual relationship. As it turns out, they were never alone, nor was I.