Baptizing Two Babies on One Sunday

I feel like the sermon that I delivered on Sunday was one of my most powerful yet:  well written and delivered without having to consult my manuscript too frequently, delivered with the right amount of intensity.

But most people who were there on Sunday will be more likely to remember it as the Sunday that we had two baptisms:

I, too, am likely to remember the baptisms more than the sermon.  I did ask each mother if they wanted to have their babies baptized on the same day.  They assured me that they did.

It's a small community, both the church and the town, so it makes sense to me.  When I invited family members who wanted a better view to come take some of the front row seats, half the church moved forward.  I was a little worried about the logistics of having everyone in the baptismal party close to the font, but it worked out.

The first time I did a baptism at this church, back in November, I poured the water on the baby who was sitting up against his parent's chest, which is not the best position if one wants to keep water off the baby's face.  This time, I gave directions about how to hold the baby close to the font.  I don't think I will ever be the person who holds a baby while I'm baptizing the baby.

The babies were good natured, and so was everyone who moved forward.  The picture taking wasn't intrusive, but these days, I'm not likely to find picture taking intrusive.  I understand the desire to capture these moments.  I understand how quickly they will be gone, the little babies all grown up.

The mom above posted a picture of her own baptism.

Note that the baptismal banner is still the same one.  So is the dress worn by the mom at her baptism--now both of her children have worn it as their baptisms.

When I took this position as a Synod Authorized Minister, I expected to feel awe each week at the consecrating of the bread and wine, which I do.  But baptizing babies has been an unexpected joy.  There's a feeling of being part of a sacrament that is both in and out of time, a sense of connection to centuries of past Christians, and a sense that the Heavens might open up, and we might hear a voice declaring us to be loved and chosen.  

And if we listen, we will hear that voice, both during baptisms and communion, and in many other ways, throughout all of our days.