By Naomi King Walker
Some faith traditions embrace infant baptism. These are memorable occasions for everyone except the child, who is too young to remember anything, and only later knows of the event’s significance through photos, stories and certificates.
For Baptists, however, baptisms are always memorable for each candidate as well as family and congregation. Baptists only immerse those who are old enough to have confessed Christ publicly.
Sometimes Baptist baptisms are memorable for all the wrong reasons.
My maternal grandmother’s church believed that baptism should take place as soon as possible after one’s public decision to follow Jesus. Unfortunately, she chose the middle of winter to walk the aisle.
Her North Carolina church had no baptistry, so they used the local river for baptisms. The pastor broke ice the day he baptized my grandmother in a river.
The rural Mississippi church my dad pastored when I made a public profession of faith had no baptistry either, but at least they had sense enough to wait until spring to baptize candidates. When the weather was warm enough, the congregation gathered at a local creek for a Sunday afternoon baptismal service.
After checking the area for snakes and other critters, folks stood on the small bridge overlooking the creek banks where others had assembled near the line of baptismal candidates.
First, everyone sang gospel hymns accompanied by my mother on her accordion. Then the baptizing commenced.
When the service was done the youth swam, swinging out over deeper waters on a tire roped to a tree limb. Country baptisms were always fun events.
The day of my baptism I was 7 years old. There were several other candidates, so my dad put me at the front of the line, thinking that since I’d seen other baptisms, I would set an example of proper decorum for everyone. Wrong.
I didn’t know how to swim yet and had never had my head entirely underwater. When he dipped me I got strangled and emerged sputtering and crying, generally disrupting the entire service.
Since then, I’ve seen many other baptismal ceremonies go wrong.
My current pastor once entered the sanctuary baptismal pool too early during the congregational singing, creating large shadow effects as he moved around behind the lighted stained glass window before it was rolled aside for baptism.
On another occasion he was late returning to the worship service after baptism because his waders had leaked, soaking his sock and pants leg.
Another of my pastors was nearly always wet when he returned to the service. Invariably, he rolled up the wrong sleeve of his dress shirt prior to immersing candidates.
On several occasions I’ve seen short children suddenly disappear from the congregation’s view because someone forgot to put a stool or cement block in the baptistry for them to stand on.
My dad once lost his balance during a baptism, nearly dropping a morbidly obese candidate.
Several times choir members in the loft have gotten splashed during baptisms. At one church a candidate accidentally sloshed the baptismal waters enough to create a tidal wave, thoroughly soaking the back two rows of the choir.
At another church the new baptismal robes were discovered — too late — to be extremely transparent when wet.
One winter we discovered during Sunday school that the baptistry water heater was broken. The candidate decided to go ahead with her baptism anyway, since extended family had come for this special occasion. The water was so frigid her teeth chattered as she proclaimed, “Jesus is Lord.”
In my former church the opposite happened. The baptism planned for the beginning of the service had to be postponed to the end (after the ushers added ice) because the water was practically boiling. The candidate would have been cooked like a lobster. When the heavy velvet baptistry curtains finally opened, a huge cloud of steam rolled out into the sanctuary.
Several years ago a video made the rounds on social media. In it the pastor was shown baptizing candidates, then reaching for a young boy who was next in line. Rather than taking the pastor’s hand and stepping into the baptismal waters, the boy impishly did a cannonball instead. It took several minutes for the drenched pastor, shaking out his microphone and soggy Bible, to regain any composure.
Sometimes I think God does a belly laugh at some of the mishaps that occur as we try to have meaningful worship experiences together.
Despite our best planning, things often go awry as we Christians attempt to balance celebration and reverence, spontaneity and ritual in baptismal services and other spiritual events. When things go wrong, it helps to remember that God only looks on the intents of our hearts. It is our sincere effort, not our perfection during worship, that is most important to our Creator.
After all, God does know we’re only human.