The Dynamic Duo
The first baptism I ever performed was in a church. It totally freaked out those who came to be baptized. We were meeting in a school but walked across the street to a church for the baptism. I lacked imagination for what a jolt that would be to the system of our community. The church had graciously allowed us to use their baptismal font after their traditional 11 am service. Perfect. They would leave and we would arrive - no problem. Except that my friend freaked out. She was intimidated by the steeple, its people, and the formality of the environment. We survived the trauma. Barely.
Her shame attack was associated with past experiences in a church that sounded more like John the Baptist than Jesus. Remember? John was all about repentance. He went around in grunge attire shouting, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." People traveled great distances to take him up on his offer to wash away their past and start fresh.
To us, John the Baptist sounds like he is issuing some sort of threat. Why can blame us? That is how it is presented in many churches. To the people who followed John this was a promise. My friend had years of triggered messaging from a church that preached a message of fire and brimstone to her, a young woman who feared she was dancing very close to the flames. Her experience resulted in shame and guilt but their experience, those who heard the message of John, was one of pardon. My friend heard her pastor demanding that she own up to her depravity, ego and pride. But this message was ineffective because these were not her core issues!
My friend's core issue was hopelessness. John the Baptist preached the message of repentance BEFORE Jesus stepped up and taught us the concept of grace. This was not a haphazard or mixed message from God to us. God gets us. God is not focused on us as miserable sinners; he is well aware that what we need is faith in HIS commitment and power to renew and restore what humanity breaks. Soon the weather will be warm and our community will return to the water for another opportunity to wash away the past and start fresh. Our usual spot is the James River. The bottom is rocky, the water often brown with swirling mud; I usually see a snake or two observing our ritual. I'm always glad when it is over and we all manage to safely return to shore. It seems more fitting, somehow, to enter into those rocky rapids with a little fear and trembling.
