“The promise is for you and your children . . .” Acts 2

“God’s own child I gladly say it, I am baptized into Christ.” From the song of the same name.

As you reflect upon your life, what memorable events have made the biggest impression?

Your graduation from high school or college?

Your wedding?

Maybe the death of a parent or loved one?

The birth of a child?

In invite you to take a moment to reflect upon life’s unforgettable occasions.

I’m thinking of seminal events in the lives of my four daughters, especially their births, their weddings, and the births of four of my grandchildren.  Not the natural births, but the supernatural ones that have taken place through baptism.

I have had the unforgettable pleasure of baptizing all four of my grandchildren; Forrest, Isla Grace, Zoey, and today is the baptism of the fourth, Jeremy.  His name is special because it is the maiden name of my dear mother, long since deceased.  But each of the four grandchildren, and their baptisms, are special and significant in their own right.  At each of them I had to fight to hold back tears.

That is what I do at baptisms, shed tears.  They are far more moving to me than weddings, or dare I say natural births.  I don’t know why.  I can’t really explain it.  Yes, there are theological reasons that I could give that used to be my default “go to” explanation.  But there is something so much deeper, far more sacred, so mysteriously significant that goes beyond words.  It has something to do with seeing this little miracle who has been knit together for nine months in their mother’s womb, so wonderfully made, a miracle of creation, be brought into an ineffable and eternal relationship with the Living God.  Not that they haven’t been already, for the waters of their mother’s wombs in  which they were living prior to their grand and glorious entrance into this outside world was also a dwelling place of the Divine.  But here, in those simple, natural waters of Holy Baptism that have somehow been sanctified, here there is the visible evidence of the movement of God, the descending and indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the beautiful embrace not of sponsor or pastor or whoever is holding this dear child of God, but that of God.  And there in the presence of parents, family members and friends there is also the “heavenly host”, the angels, the unseen spirits that take up residence permanently with this little one. 

I’m struggling to put into words, to capture the feelings that are so overwhelming in this simple act of pouring a bit of water on the head of an infant, a child, or even an adult.  It is inexplicable.  And perhaps that is as it should be, for the attempt to describe that which is Divinely transcendent is bound to fail; it simply can’t be done.  Above all else God is mystery, and the gifts of God are miraculous.  And to describe fully is merely a vain attempt on the part of mankind.

And so I will stop, and simply relish the thought, embrace the moment, and live with the memories of baptizing these children of my children, these children of God.