Baptism

We celebrated a baptism at church this morning. In his sermon, Ben linked the baptism that was about to take place with John's baptism of believers in the Jordan River, and that with the senseless murders of three young people on the streets of Baltimore this past week. Three candles were placed on the children's altar today, the first candles of the new year. Ben, quoting Rachel Naomi Remen quoting her rabbi grandfather, asked, at what point do we grow too old to be unconditionally forgiven? At what point in a child's development do we forget that she or he is a child of God?

Ben rejoiced at the baptism that we gathered to celebrated today. And for the children who died, he recited a Bahamian lullaby that I know as 'The Christian's Goodnight:'

Sleep on, beloved,

sleep and take thy rest,

Lay down thy head

upon thy Saviour's breast;

I love thee well,

but Jesus loves thee best:

Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight,

Lord, I bid you

Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.

Baptism, Church of the Immaculate Conception, Towson, March 2007

At previous baptisms I've attended, the babies tend to become fussy and upset, especially when they're sprinkled or dunked in cold water and brandished at a bunch of solemn strangers. But the little girl this morning took in everything with wide-eyed delight, and seemed to love the water. Squirming in the priest's arms, she leaned out toward the baptismal font, making what appeared to be swimming motions. When she was carried down the aisle during the passing of the peace, she seemed to look each person in the eye, as if saying hello.