First Baptism

Yesterday was my first baptism as a minister.  I've assisted with baptisms before, but I've never been the one who put water on the baby's head.  I felt a bit nervous, but I reminded myself that it wasn't a funeral or a wedding, both of which come with many more hopes and expectations.  In short, it seemed there wasn't much that could go wrong.

In retrospect, I was lucky.  I baptized one of the happier babies I've ever met.  When water went down his head onto his face, he smiled.  When water dripped off my hand onto the baptismal font as I moved my hand to his head, he reached for the water drops on the font.

I had planned to meet with the parents before the service to strategize about how to hold the baby, but they weren't there when the service started.  I did have them move the baby closer to the font, but the father held the baby upright, which is why the water dribbled down his face.  I tried to catch some of it with a baptismal cloth, but it wasn't very absorbent.  Happily, the baby didn't mind.

If there's another baptism, I'll do more to practice with the baptismal font and the water.  Or maybe it's always going to be messy, and I should embrace the idea of water going everywhere.

The baby being baptized never cried, but his older brother did.  I didn't realize that the wailing child in the narthex was part of the baptismal family; if I had, I'd have had the child join us earlier.  As it was, the relative who had been trying to console the wailing child brought the child forward to the mom.  Something to remember to ask for next time.

The baby was the grandchild and great grandchild of members of the little country church where I am a Synod Appointed Minister.  The family lives in Nashville.  I had a phone conversation in advance, but in retrospect, I should have covered more; I shouldn't have assumed we would have time before the service.

The baby smiled throughout the rest of the baptism ceremony, and I suggested that the family walk with the baby so that we could all greet our new sibling in Christ.  That baby has a future in politics or movies or some other arena that needs friendly charisma.

Afterwards, we went downstairs to the fellowship hall, where the family had invited us all to stay for a barbecue lunch, another treat especially in a week where we're all getting tired of Thanksgiving leftovers.

I'm calling my first baptism a success, while at the same time thinking about ways I could be better, if there's a next time.  I found myself wishing we could do a baptism once a week, the way we do the eucharist once a week.  But then it wouldn't feel as special and holy--and yes, I do realize that's an argument for having once a month eucharist than once a week.

Here's the Facebook post I made:

"The baptism went well--the baby was the happiest baby I've ever met, and baptismal water got all over the place (the baby, me, the font), and the baby put his little hands on the water drops and made happy noises, and everyone was smiling and laughing. I halfway expected a dove to descend and a voice telling us how beloved we all are (there was that voice, but it was my voice, never losing an opportunity to tell us all how much God loves us)."

Earlier, I made a pre-baptism post that said I was both nervous and joyous.  One of my pastor friends gave me this encouragement, which is worth preserving:  "Know this…you are a child of God, dripping wet in the same promise as the one who will be baptized today. We celebrate the promise that holds us all!"