I attended a Methodist church not far from my house today. As many of you know, I am searching for church and working on figuring out some of my own God-stuff as I search. This church and I have history. I came to this church as a teen and found a home and a place to begin the final stages of growing up (I know, I never have really grown up, but humor me). I got married in what is now the chapel. This church represents a turning point in my life, so coming back is both a blessing and a real struggle. It is a blessing because I can see how much the church as grown and progressed since the mid-1980s. It's a struggle because so much the church I carry in my soul is gone and replaced by things that are unknown to me. As I drove the five minutes from my house to the church, I fought my flight response and forced myself to park my van and enter the building.
Today, I attended Transformations, which is what they call their contemporary service. I spotted a friend who is a member and we ended up sitting together. What a relief! I hate being in a service where I know nobody, mostly because I am natively very shy. The band was great, and I knew the songs, so it was easy to relax and begin to feel God.
The sermon, however, gave me pause. Before I go on, let me say that I really loved the service and will probably go back. I actually didn't mind the minister who led the service either. I know that he meant the best and did his best to present what was in his heart. That love is what is the blessing here.
I just am not sure I agree with his approach.
The scripture is familiar, but is still best if it is read: Matthew 3:13-17 (NIV). I love this story. There is something really special about Jesus wanting to be baptized. I see it as a story that shows us that Jesus wants to show us that He is fully participatory in all matter that concern us in our spiritual and human lives. It is a simple gesture of "this is how you do this." He could have told us, "Go, be baptized, show the world that you are different." Instead, he showed us what to do.
The minister, took a slightly different approach. His interpretation is that baptism is a moment that shows that you choose transformation. In a way, I totally agree. It is a symbol that you are taking a different direction to how you live. He asked us to remember our baptism and remember why we chose to be baptized and how we were transformed. At this point, I began to squirm a bit. This sort of thought assumes that baptism was a huge, transformative moment for every single person in that room. I have the same problem with assuming that every single Christian has a moment of transcendent change when they accept Christ into their lives.
When I was a member of the Baptist denomination, one of the things I heard over and over again was stories of people having what I call "Damascus Road Conversions." They were big, they were loud,they were aMAZing (yes, just like that). As a kid, that was a big deal, and it seemed like most of the adults valued that sort of conversion.
My conversion was not like that at all.
I was ten. We had been in revival all week long. In the mid-1970s, most churches had revival two times a year. Our church had revival in the early spring, usually right before Holy Week, and then again at the end of the summer when hell seemed more real than normal because of the heat. I came to Christ the Sunday after spring revival and was baptized on Palm Sunday of 1976.
I wish I could tell you that I chose to walk the aisle that Sunday because I wanted God to transform my life. The truth of the matter was a lot less exciting and a lot more of a child's decision.
I chose to walk the aisle that Sunday because I was terrified that I was going to die, go to hell, and never see my family again. I've talked before about being afraid to die. This is the root of that fear. That Sunday I was not thinking about how God could transform my life. That was too forward thinking for me. My confession and baptism, at age ten, was about making sure that I wouldn't be separated from my family and die. I have to think that a lot of Baptist children make similar decisions.
This is not to say that my baptism didn't matter. It did. I continued to learn about God, get in trouble for being that girl that dared question the ministers when they said things that were questionable. I studied and read and thought I knew all about how to be a Christian. I was raised to have all the answers at the my beck and call because I knew the scriptures and bore them as weaponry. While all that learning was good, I'm not sure I was really transformed. For me, my response to my terror was just a step in my ongoing connection to church. It was the natural order of things.
Moving Past My Roots
I was baptized again when I was seventeen. I became Methodist (at the very church I visited this morning). If I want to follow the minister's thoughts from this morning, I would say that this baptism is the closest to a "transformative" baptism. Even so, it's not like my whole life was turned over and completely different. It was not like the end of one life and the beginning of another. It was a symbolic step that showed that my belief structure and thoughts about God were moving away from how I was raised. Still, once again, I consider it another step in my journey. It showed where I was with God in that moment.
I continued to study, and I learned that there were many ways to worship and be with God. I learned that scripture is not weaponry, but a tool to understand how to relate to God and how He relates to us. It's also not a rule book, but a lifestyle possibility. I also became open to the idea that God likes to laugh...a lot. I was transformed, but not in the moment of baptism. It took time, a lot of kind support (I can never thank Reverend Gus Koch enough for showing me God's love), and a lot of work. Even after all that, the transformation was not over.
Is Transformation Ever Complete?
I was baptized once more in my mid-twenties when my then husband and I joined the Disciples of Christ denomination. I wanted to be baptized as a sign of crossing from one denomination to another. There was no real thought of transformation, but more of a symbolic change in my way of worship. I wanted people to know that I agreed to be a part of this denomination and live the best I could. I feel like that has happened. I've learned so much about how much God wants me as I am, and that's I can say and question and examine God, the scriptures, and my life as I choose.
Transformation is an ongoing thing, at least as I've experienced it. I didn't come to Christ with the idea of transformation, but just salvation, at least initially. Baptism is a landmark in your journey (transformation), but not always the catalyst. I am different than that tiny ten year old girl who walked the aisle that Sunday in 1976. I am also different than that seventeen year old young woman, looking for a place to find God's acceptance. I'm even different than that twenty-six year old woman who came to the Disciple Church. I have transformed, but I am continuing to transform. If we're honest, I think many people are that way, and I think that's something that God intends, at least for some of us. Maybe there are those who find transformation in baptism. I just know that's not how I experienced it.
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