A simple baptism

28 years ago today was also a Sunday.  I preached that morning, as per usual.  However, then it was time to baptize a little boy.  However, instead of assuming the usual position behind the baptismal font, I had taken off my robe, joined my wife, carried our four-and-a-half month old son, and stood in front of the baptismal font.  You see, my primary role that day was not "pastor."  It was a more ancient role, a more honorable role, a more important role.  My primary role at that moment on that Sunday morning was "Dad."  I answered the questions with my wife, whereby we promised "to provide nurture and guidance within the community of faith until the child is ready to make a personal profession of faith and assume the responsibility of active church membership." (Presbyterian Church's Book of Order, W-2.3014).  A colleague then spoke the ancient words as he put water on my son's head.  I was teary-eyed.

I long had had questions about baptism... specifically about the different understandings of so-called "believer's baptism" (that is, being baptized as a result of one's own profession of faith in Jesus Christ) and "infant baptism."  It wasn't until I was in college and at a retreat that someone explained the Presbyterian/Reformed understanding of baptism to me... or at least explained it in such a way that it made sense to me.

Baptism is not about the faith of the one being baptized.  Baptism is not about what we say; it is about what God says!  And God says, "This person belongs to me.  I surround and fill this person with my love and grace.  I will be this one's God... forever!"  My tradition's understanding of baptism is that this is the New Testament ritual that is equivalent to what Calvin and the creeds called the Old Testament "sacrament" of circumcision.  A Jewish boy could grow up to be a faithful, observant Jew, or he could grow up wanting nothing to do with his faith or his tradition.  However, all of his life, at least a couple of times a day, that Jewish boy would look down and know that he was inseparably a part of God's covenant, inseparably a part of the community of God's people, inseparably a part of God's love.  Baptism is obviously much more inclusive than circumcision... since it's for girls as well as boys!  However, the rest of the symbolism is the same.  In that simple act of placing water, of praying, of reciting ancient words, all of us present that morning were reminded that God's covenant, the community of God's people, and God's love all were extended to my son.  Amazing!  Each time I am blessed to officiate at someone's baptism, each time I place my hand in water and put it on someone's head, each time I utter those prayers and recite those ancient words, I am reminded - powerfully and deeply reminded - of the wonder and mystery tied up in this sacramental act.

28 years ago today my older son was baptized.  26 years ago this August 24 my younger son was baptized.  60 years ago last December 16 I was baptized.  I remember and celebrate these dates of our baptisms because it helps me remember and celebrate and be thankful for the covenant of love within which God embraces me... embraces my sons... embraces us all.  They are dates worth remembering!

Do you know when you were baptized?  Do you possibly remember your own baptism?  Do you want to be baptized because you never were baptized when you were younger?  The date is worth remembering... the act is worth celebrating.  Such an amazing act wrapped up in an ancient sacrament, all in a simple baptism.

Come on in!  The water's fine!

I get SO angry...

So, Rush Limbaugh got to me again.  I hate when I let him get under my skin.  It's not that I listen to him... I gave that up years ago.  A church member and I were talking about the news once at a Men's Breakfast from church, and when I mentioned listening to Morning Edition on NPR, he chuckled, shook his head, and said, "Steve, you ought to balance that out by listening to Rush."  I also chuckled, shook my head, and admitted, "Well, I probably should balance out my news sources, but I can't listen to Rush.  He's just plain mean."

And so His Meanness once again did it, and, since it has been reported so widely, I read his comments, and, as I said, I allowed him to get to me.  When he called Georgetown University Law School student Sandra Fluke a "slut" and a "prostitute" after her testimony before Congress regarding funding for contraception, I was appalled, stunned, and, yes, angry... SO angry!  Didn't we all learn as children that you don't call other people names???  Of course, I guess being polite and respectful doesn't sell advertising time in the media!  But still... I mean, come on, Rush!

Then on Thursday he said he wouldn't apologize for his remarks.  Then he said the same thing on Friday.  Something must have happened, though, because today he apologized.  Well, he sort of apologized.  But then he added that he hadn't meant his words as a "personal attack" on Ms. Fluke.  Really???  You call a woman a slut and you didn't mean it as something personal???  And so that got me angry all over again!

Why is it that I allow someone like Limbaugh to get me so riled up?  Perhaps - and, good Lord, I hate to admit this! - perhaps it's because I see so many of us, myself included, in Rush.  Ouch!  Oh, I succeed most often in not calling other people names... at least I succeed in not doing that out loud.  Yet in my heart... well, there's the proverbial rub.  In my heart I think that Limbaugh is a jerk, a misogynistic and mean-spirited bastard.  And then I realize that I am no different than he.  And that does, indeed, make me mad... not at Rush, but at myself, at my own failings, at my own failure to rise above the fray, at my inability to see Christ in "the other," even in Rush Limbaugh.

Rats!  So now I have something else to work on within myself during Lent!

Please, Lord Jesus:  help me love all of your children... even Rush... even myself.  Amen.