Naomi's Notes - 06/18/09
Some of you have heard me tell of my baptism in Mississippi at age seven. The rural church my dad pastored had no baptistry, so whenever there were several candidates and warm weather, the congregation would gather at a local creek for a Sunday afternoon baptismal service.
After checking the area for any snakes, some folks would stand on the bridge overlooking the banks where others assembled near the baptismal candidates. Then everyone sang gospel hymns accompanied by my mother on her accordion. When the service ended the youth would go swimming, swinging over the deeper waters on a tire roped to a tree limb.
That day there were several baptismal candidates and my dad put me at the front of the line, thinking that I would set an example of proper decorum for the others. He was wrong. I didn’t know how to swim yet and had never had my entire head underwater. I emerged sputtering and crying—generally disrupting the entire service.
A few weeks ago when Chuck had to deal with leaky baptismal boots, I thought of how many baptismal mishaps I’ve witnessed through the years. One of my pastors invariably rolled up the wrong sleeve of his dress shirt prior to dipping candidates. Chuck has been teased about making shadow effects behind the lighted cross window above the choir.
My dad once lost his balance & nearly dropped a morbidly obese candidate. On a number of occasions some back row choir members have gotten splashed—at one church it was more like a wave soaking two rows. I’ve seen short children “disappear” from the congregation’s view as they stepped into the baptistry with no stool to stand on. At another church the new baptismal robes were discovered—too late—to be extremely opaque when wet.
One winter at IBC the baptistry water heater broke down. The water was frigid but the shivering candidate decided to go ahead with the ceremony. In my former church in Georgia the opposite happened. The baptism planned for the beginning of the service had to be postponed to the end because the water was practically boiling. When the heavy velvet curtains opened, a large cloud of steam poured into the sanctuary. [I guess it’s better to turn blue with cold than to be cooked like a lobster?]
Last year someone sent me a video of a baptismal service where the candidate—a young boy—rather than stepping into the baptismal waters decided to do a cannonball instead, soaking half the sanctuary. It took a while for the drenched pastor, shaking out his soggy Bible, to recover any decorum. [Don't get any ideas!]
Sometimes I think God does a belly laugh at some of the antics and mishaps of us Christians in our attempt to have meaningful worship experiences. Often, our best efforts at balancing both celebration and reverence in baptismal services and other spiritual events go awry. But we remember that God looks on the intents of our hearts, and it is our effort in worship that is most important to our Creator.