You sit in church during baptisms and are theoretically ‘a part’ of affirming what’s going on although it often feels a little bit removed. You leave the building and more often than not (pathetically) kind of forget that as part of helping this person along in their growth/walk or other jargon, you either in some way get alongside them or pray for them. I’m sure this happens in a myriad of ways and I’m sure others are much better at it than I am. It’s much harder to forget when you’ve actually been a part of ‘doing’ the baptism.
Last night was very unique.
Shannon’s journey was first shared by a friend of hers, while her version was given-written to everyone present, then another girl presented the ins and outs, the definitives of Christianity, communion (which she had) and the whys and tradition of baptism. The common comprehension of baptism (the going through the motions bit ie: dunking) was demonstrated. When it came time for the crux, we all got to take part. She can now say that she was baptised by 25 odd people tipping cups of water on her head – we took turns in the: Father, Son, Holy Spirit bit as there were too many of us.
It was very postmodern in that it was unique to the person, yet the stray from the norm still carried this fascinatingly beautiful banner of truth.
It wasn’t about the 25 odd people, and the misconvention – yep I just made up that word. It was was a signifier of what had been and what is to continue in her life and something that isn’t going to be forgotten and bore recognition to God’s work to those there who weren’t Christians. Tuesday made a real event out of something we usually slot into a 20 minute moment during a standard service. We got to celebrate properly.