Dirty Baptisms

When I was baptized, I remember the water being clear, the dressing room clean, the changing area private, and the sanctuary temperature-controlled. From an elevated baptistery, the pastor spoke into a microphone so that everyone could see and hear from their comfortable padded pews.

Not so here. This week I had the joy of baptizing 8 new believers from one of our very fruitful house churches. But the joy was not in the baptizing facility- or rather lack of one. Obviously, the joy was seeing common people born into God’s eternal kingdom. But the place of the baptism certainly didn’t fit a royal event.

Since the house church was located in a town close to the coast, we all headed to the ocean for the baptism. May, the last month of the dry season, is usually the hottest month in the Philippines. This day was no exception. The tropical heat was brutal and the sun was a burning torch. The ocean water was hot. Even the clouds were afraid to come out in this heat!

Along the water front, an enterprising local resident had erected small bamboo huts with nepa/thatched roofs, available for all swimmers, for a price. Ants swarmed in the sandy floor, feasting year round on discarded food. What the ants missed, the flies consumed. Noisy freight trucks from a nearby pier whizzed by, leaving exhaust fumes for us to breathe.

After testimonies and a song, we entered the murky abyss. Onlookers in old, baggy clothes probably thought it odd to see this well dressed American walking out into the water. One by one, as the heat bore down, I immersed the new believers into the waves and brought them back out. With no place to change, we wore our wet, sandy clothes long after we exited the water.

In retrospect, I think this is the way God intended baptisms to be - uncomfortable and an oddity. When we sign up to be soldiers for the Lord, one of the first marching orders we receive is: “Be baptized,” enter the dirty water, clothes and all. It’s a measure of our commitment; our willingness to follow the Commander, wherever He leads.

Our sanitized American baptisteries perhaps take away a bit of the ruggedness of faith, and the humble circumstances that obedience sometimes requires. Perhaps if we are willing to follow the Lord into the hot murky water, we just might be a bit more willing to witness when its uncomfortable, or a tad more likely to go to the undesirable places. May we sincerely mean it when we sing, “Wherever He leads, I’ll go.”

Jonathan and I are headed to Virginia tomorrow for Hannah’s graduation. Last week, Hannah was offered a job and will work at Mt. Vernon (George Washington’s home and plantation) as a tour guide through November while she prepares for her GRE exam. Jonathan starts his summer job at the end of May. Martha will return with me to the Philippines on May 19. Blessings to you all.