
Sacramentum is a series devised by the Office of Evangelization and Catechesis, exploring the sacraments of the Catholic Church and other aspects of parish life and Catholic devotion. In this reflection, Rudy Jerome Mallannao looks at the relationship between the Easter season and the sacrament of Baptism – both representing a time of renewal and of death leading to new life.
In this Month’s issue of Sacramentum, I would like us to reflect on the Sacrament of Baptism in relation to the story of Jesus’ Passion, the Easter Season, the story of Noah’s Ark – and in relation to our own journeys of faith.
Have you ever had a moment in life where you felt like you were just floating into nothingness—no direction, no movement, just stuck in place? When everything felt out of your control, and you kept praying and praying, but it felt like you were only talking to a wall?
In many ways, that is our own version of the Passion.
Because the story of Easter is not distant from us—it is deeply human. The Passion of Christ is not only something we remember; it is something we recognize. We have all had our own Good Fridays: moments of betrayal, loss, silence, suffering. Times when we carried crosses we did not choose. Times when we had to endure—to bear what felt unbearable, to keep going when everything in us wanted to stop.
There is an Arabic word—“tahammul”– which means to endure, to carry, to bear under weight. In many ways, this word captures the heart of Jesus during the Passion: not loud heroism, not instant triumph, but quiet perseverance. Staying. Holding on. Trusting, even when everything around Him seemed senseless.
And yet, the story of Jesus does not end in endurance alone. It moves through death into life, through suffering into renewal, through the cross into the resurrection. It is also a story that moves through water – into the living grace of Baptism that invites each of us to participate in Jesus’s death and resurrection.
The Sacrament of Baptism is not simply a ritual—it is a passage. A mystery of dying and rising. In Baptism, we are immersed into Christ’s death so that we may rise with Him into new life. It is, in essence, our personal participation in the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus.
To be baptized is to enter the waters—not as a sign of drowning, but of transformation.
And here is where the story of Noah also becomes deeply personal.
Have you ever noticed and realized the scariest part of the Noah’s Ark story was never the flood, it was not even the calamity of God cleansing the earth? Rather, it was the design of the ark itself. God gives exact measurements, chose the wood, sealed it perfectly, but in the design there was NO steering wheel, NO engine, and NO captain’s chair.
The ark was never built to be steered; it was built to float. It was built to be carried and Noah was not the captain. He was a passenger. God was in control, and if we are honest this is where most of us struggle and succumb to the void within – to give up and throw away our crosses.
You might have noticed this in yourself: we pray, we believe, we say we trust God—but deep down, we still want to hold the wheel. We try to control the timing, the outcome, the people, the process—our plans, our healing, our relationships, even our own faith journey. We say, “Lord, take the wheel; Your will be done,” and yet we panic when things don’t unfold the way we imagined.

We get anxious when doors stay closed—when opportunities fall through, when clarity doesn’t come. We overthink when prayers feel delayed—when God feels silent, distant, or hidden. We keep trying to steer what God already promised to carry.
Maybe you are there right now. You have dreams, you have prayers, you have a future you are hoping for, but lately it feels like you are just floating—no clear direction, no control, no certainty—and that scares you. It feels like Holy Saturday: the waiting, the in-between, the silence after suffering but before resurrection.
But what if… that is exactly where God wants you?
Think about it: the ark was not designed for speed, nor for shortcuts. It was designed for safety, for protection, and for arriving at the right time. Noah did not know when the rain would end, nor when the land would appear—but he knew one thing with absolute certainty: God was faithful to what He had built.
In the same way, our lives often feel like that ark—floating through uncertainty, waiting for clarity, and wondering when the storm will end. We may not know the timing, the outcome, or the path ahead, but we can trust that, like Noah, we are being carried safely by a faithful God who will see us through to the right place at the right time.
And the same is true in the Passion of Jesus.
Jesus entered fully into tahammul—into enduring, into carrying the weight of the cross, into surrender. He stepped into the deepest abyss of human suffering, not to remain there, but to transform it. The cross was not the end—it was the passage. Just like the waters were not the end for Noah—they were the way through.
Sometimes, the most spiritual thing we can do is release the wheel and trust the One who designed the journey. We were never meant to control everything; we were meant to trust the One who does. By the merit of Jesus’ Passion, Death, and Resurrection, God has already promised to carry us through.
As Jesus reminds us in Scripture: “Do not be afraid.” You will not sink. You will not be destroyed. You will arrive—safely, faithfully, and on time.
Not because you were strong enough to steer or you deserve it. But because God was faithful.
So, breathe, let go, and trust the captain. You are not drifting in the void; you are being guided.
This is the quiet power of Easter—and the living grace of Baptism.
That the abyss is not the end.
That the cross is not the conclusion.
That the waters are not meant to drown you—but to make you new.
Because in the very place where hope seems buried, God is already at work.
And when the stone is finally rolled away, when light breaks through the darkness, when life rises where death once stood—it will not be because we figured everything out or held everything together.
It will be because God remained faithful.
From Passion to Resurrection.
From tahammul to triumph.
From the waters of the flood to the waters of Baptism.
From the ark to new creation.
From the abyss to light.
Christ has Risen. Alleluia, Alleluia.