In my "Introduction to Baptism" post, found here,
I eluded to the fact that I have a personal baptism story that is, perhaps,
less than what I wish it was... or at least it used to be... until I started
studying what baptism should be...
When it comes to symbols, there is a very awkward tension
for me. So much of what I really love to
do is about the experience of it, and the more senses that can be engaged, the
better. And yet, it is also really important to me to capture moments (often as
pictures) in order to remember them and to even re-live them to a certain
extent. I think a lot of people fall
into one category or the other. There
are the people who enjoy the experiences and there are those who document the
moments. I like to do both, and that
often means that I need to participate in things multiple times to get them
"just right". I like having a
second (or third... or fifty-seventh...) chance at things.
I am thinking about this a lot lately as I am deep in the
vacation planning process. Ride pictures
might be the best example I can offer. I
really love roller coasters. I am an
adrenaline junkie. This has been passed
down to at least three of my five children, and I'm really hoping this next
trip will confirm my suspicion that my littlest one is also going to be a
"rider". The clicking on the
way up the hill, the realization that the drop is really much steeper than
you'd imagined, the hope that your restraint is just a little bit too loose,
because there is nothing quite like catching air, throwing your arms up at the
last minute. Come on... who doesn't love
to fly?
This desire for thrills has rubbed off most noticeably on my oldest daughter. She is all about the experience. She couldn't care less about the picture at
the bottom of the hill. And as much as I
love the experience, too, this drives me crazy!
I mean, what really happened if there is no photographic evidence? Did anything
happen? How will you remember the
experience? On most rides, I know where
the cameras will flash. If I don't, I
try to scout it out ahead of time. And
if the picture turns out blurry... or dark... or if someone's flailing arm is
in my face... or the face of one of my family members... It's no big deal
(ahem). We just have to ride again. And sometimes again. And again.
Well, you get the point. Oh, I
want to live the moment, but I also want to own
it. But sometimes I think the owning
casts a shadow on the experience.
If you're still reading, I hope I haven't lost you. We were talking about baptism, right?
I was baptized at age ten.
In the church tradition in which I grew up, you got baptized when you
wanted to "join the church".
Which meant you could "take communion". You had to "come forward" at the
end of a Sunday morning service, and that was no easy task for a kid who spent
most of her time trying to blend in with the walls.
There were classes about which I remember almost nothing
except that I had to pick a Bible verse to recite at my baptism, and I picked
John 3:16, and another kid in the class thought that was a really lame verse to
pick, because everyone knows that one, and my choosing it probably meant that I
didn't know any other Bible verses, and maybe I didn't even have one that was meaningful
to my life. That's not really what I
would like to remember about the process leading up to my baptism, all these
years later, but it is what I remember, nevertheless...
On the actual night of my baptism, we invited friends and
family to come to the church, and I wore a frumpy dress under a baptismal robe,
and I must have mumbled my way through John 3:16, after all, and you would
think that with this many details stuck in my brain I could remember the actual
moment of baptism, but honestly, I can't.
Then I went home, and we had cake, and there were cards and
gifts. And I actually do have a picture
to commemorate the party. I look
absolutely miserable in it, and you know, I mentioned the frumpy dress, right? This is not something that you post on a
blog. I promise. Neglecting to share the picture is not
causing anyone to miss anything significant.
That's my baptismal narrative. And I don't like it very much. But, the thing about baptism is it's a onetime
deal, so it's not like those roller coasters that you can ride again and again
until you get the perfect shot... or even the perfect experience.
And yet...
My experience does not negate the grace that God imparts in
baptism.
Jesus' baptism is really cool. I especially like how a voice from heaven
says, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased”
(Matthew 3:17). I wonder if this is said
at every baptism. In that moment, are we
declared children of God? Children God
loves? Children with whom God is well
pleased?
This has caused me to consider that it
might not be the experience or the visual
that has been a problem for me. It's the
audio. When I was ten, and OK, even now,
I have some degree of trouble turning down the noise all around me to hear the
quiet words that affirm that I belong, not because of anything I have done, but because of what God has done. And those are pretty important words to
hear... Definitely worth listening...
L.