Baptism

It's New Years Eve and baptisms are happening tonight at church. Unless one of them gets cold feet, Jonathan and Rebecca have decided to get baptised tonight. A few years ago Kelly and I told the kids that if and when they decided to get baptised, we would join them. So, if everything goes as planned, all four of us are getting wet tonight. I'm glad the service is not being held in the Danberry parking lot this time!


Kelly, I think, was originally baptised as a baby, in the Catholic tradition. This time, it gets to be her decision.


As for me, I remember the event rather clearly. I'm not sure exactly how old I was when I first got baptised but I know it was somewhere between the ages of 10 and 15. My brother (who is a year older than me) and I were sitting together one Sunday when the minister asked if anyone wanted to commit their lives to Jesus and get baptised. I looked at Jeff and he looked at me, then we shocked our parents (and probably the rest of the congregation) by walking up the isle. I knew then that I believed in God and in Jesus, but I'm sure that I didn't know what that really meant. As for Jeff, I have no idea what was in his mind, and I still don't. We've never discussed it. Anyway, the next Sunday (or 2 Sundays later), our parents and grandparents were proudly sitting in the congregation as the two of us got wet. I think afterward we may have had some sort of family get together or a family lunch at some restaurant. I do know that I got a Bible as a baptism present from the church. In any case, I'm not sure I felt any different after being baptised then before or if I was supposed to. We'll see what happens tonight.

I once heard a story about a gentleman who probably had little in belief and happened into a church one day with an acquaintance. He was so moved by the entire experience that, when the minister invited people to come forward and accept Christ as their savior, he stood up. His acquaintance stopped him and convinced him to take a little time before making such a decision. The man agreed that a little reflection may be a good idea. Not minutes after the two stepped out of the church, gun shots rang out. Mortally wounded was the man who had decided to wait. Sometimes, I guess, we are better off to live in the moment and hopefully recognise that the "voice" we are hearing is that of God. I just wish that His "voice " didn't sound exactly like the other "voices" in my head.