Ok, baptism is way cooler than I thought
alternately, evangelical girl walks into a mainline
Three families gathered in the back of our Anglican church today in preparation for their children’s baptisms. It was the first non-evangelical baptism I’d ever experienced, and I wasn’t prepared for the eruption of joy, support, celebration, and love that filled our little chapel. Part of the baptismal liturgy was an encouragement to the congregation to consider their own baptismal vows- reflecting on what those meant and still mean. I hadn’t thought much about my own baptism in quite some time, but it brought me to an uncomfortable place.
A month before baptism during my 7th grade year, I piously carried my Bible into my interview with the pastor. I was mildly miffed when he told me I could put my “purse” down on the table (it was a Bible fastened with a clip- the height of the fashion from the local Christian Supply). I knew all the answers to his questions- I was an AWANA kid after all. I felt so hopeful that our church would look at me and think that I was a mature Christian, untainted by the unchurched world. I wanted that affirmation so badly; I wanted there to be no doubt that I was a good, Christian kid. I was also curious to know how warm the baptismal water was (quite, it turned out).
On baptism day, I knew my curled, Shannon-Miller-inspired bangs would not survive the water immersion, and I carefully clipped them to the side. I was ready to give my testimony. And I was excited. Even though we were taught that baptism was merely an outward symbol of an inner conviction, with no power to save or otherwise impart power, I had heard enough transformational stories to hope. Stories about people becoming different after baptism- truly burying their sins in the water. Could that be me?
The pastor baptized me, and I made my way back to the changing room. I remember trying to make myself cry; waiting for the rush of emotion that confirmed something real had happened. But the tears didn’t come and the emotion didn’t either, I was just….wet? But I told my family that I was a different person- I told them they could expect this to be a turning point.
Well, I kind of ate those words.
At that stage of life, I was constantly getting into arguments with people. I couldn’t make myself stop, and I was so painfully perfectionistic that it made me furious. I knew everyone could see my lack of spiritual maturity, and it drove me crazy. At one point, someone asked, “What is going on? It seems like ever since you got baptized your behavior has just gotten worse and worse.”
My conclusion? Baptism didn’t “work.” It had failed me, the Holy Spirit had failed me, or I had failed It. At that point, I wasn’t sure which. I didn’t get my transformation; I’d have to prove it in other ways.
So, I’ve really never had a “high view” of baptism. Its portrayal (to me) has always seemed an annoying paradox of importance and powerlessness. “We take baptism seriously, we are a church where people make decisions and they show it! But, don’t make the mistake of thinking this immersion has any power to save you. This is just a symbol of the work that has already been done.”
Work that has already been done. Not about hope for future growth, not about power to become more Christlike. I began to approach baptism Sundays the same way I approached baby dedications- technically important but realistically underwhelming.
So today, when the pastor called us to remember our baptismal vows, tears welled up. Everything just seems worse after your baptism. Pride kept me from releasing the tears- I wasn’t ready for the vulnerability of mascara lines down my face. But it sure was hard to hold them back- the scene playing out in front of the congregation was devastatingly beautiful.
Three children were being baptized, and their families were gathered close- so visibly free, proud, and supportive. Incredible. As the liturgy was read, and as the celebratory cheers rang out, it was clear that something big was going on. There was a real presence of grace in the room. People didn’t just believe it was significant, it was significant. I can’t even remember half of what was said, but when the pastor declared that they were now sealed by the Holy Spirit and part of the body of faith, my heart shook. There was no expectation that those kids were going to come out of the water permanently on the road to perfection. There was only the expectation that the Holy Spirit was holding them and that the congregation was ready for the task of sticking to their sides as they walked the road of sanctification. Together.
I wasn’t raised in a charismatic or overly demonstrative tradition. I’ve never done more in a church service than quietly clap or surreptitiously raise one hand (to half height) during a worship song. But this was also where being surrounded by a community of other families was ministry in itself. Their joy made me praise God. I decided to hold my arms a little higher than usual while I clapped. My husband whooped- something I used to be irritated about but now I am thankful for. Maybe someday I will also “whoop.”
In the reading I’ve done over the past four years about mainline traditions, the sacraments have shown up unfailingly. With prominence. Until today, I couldn’t really understand why. There truly is a real, experiential transfer of grace in communion and baptism. They bind the congregation to each other just as much as they bind the individual to Christ. Or remind them of that bond. My two oldest children expressed interest in baptism afterwards, although it’s hard to say how much of that is spiritual and how much of it is fascination with dunking in that tub full of water. But honestly, I’m seeing that baptism doesn’t have to be driven by a fully theologized, solemn impetus. It’s a first step in being sealed in the body of Christ- in becoming part of a family bigger than your own. If they still want to do it tomorrow, I’ll start making it happen.
It's days like this that pull back the curtain just a teensy bit more on the beauty of the Christian life. I’m still trusting that there’s more to come.
So beautiful!