I wondered if the water was cold as I watched their Pastor, Dr. John Ditty, steady them, their clothes clinging to their bodies, as they found their footing out of the water after their river baptism.
We were there with other family members to see our son, David Jr., and his wife, Kayla, being baptized. Kayla had for years wanted baptism by immersion in a river. David Jr. had been baptized by immersion when he was 8 years old, but he also wanted to be baptized in the river with Kayla. Both have been followers of Christ for years. The event was a significant spiritual marker for them, so Lori and I wanted to be there for it.
Rain had been in the forecast all weekend, and true to prediction, it rained during the outdoor baptism. We clutched our umbrellas as we gingerly stepped on the gravely mud down to the river.
“If only the baptism had been in a church building,” I thought, “it would have been so much more convenient. We could have stayed right there in the comfy pews, dry and relaxed.”
As the rain peppered down, we listened to the Pastor talk about the meaning of baptism. My thoughts drifted to Jesus’ baptism at the Jordan River. Wouldn’t it have been simpler to get baptized in the Sea of Galilee, closer to where he was? But Jesus wanted to be baptized by John in the Jordan River, and in doing so, Jesus linked his mission with a particular ministry of spiritual renewal. Although Jesus needed no repentance, He was identifying with the people He would redeem through His death on the cross. His baptism was an intentional act. He didn’t just happen to get baptized in the Jordan River.
Baptism, by its nature, is inconvenient. My deceased teacher, Professor William R. Estep, in his classic work, The Anabaptist Story, traced Baptists to the Anabaptist movement, the first baptism of which was on January 21, 1525. Dr. Estep described the seminal event when Anabaptism was born: “A dozen or so men slowly trudged through the snow. Quietly but resolutely, singly or in pairs they came by night…The chill of the winter wind blowing off the lake did not match the chill of disappointment that gripped the little band that fateful night.” Persecution followed their clandestine actions. How convenient was that?
Even baptism in a church baptistry, where people applaud rather than persecute, has certain inconveniences: a change of clothes, getting completely wet and having to redress for the worship service.
It seems a fitting picture of the Christian walk. Out of the water, the believer walks with Christ, which is not always convenient. Discipline isn’t easy. It may not be convenient to spend time with the Lord, listen to the lonely, or prepare a meal for the hungry. But those inconveniences become joys. As Eugene Peterson phrased it, “Joy is not a requirement of Christian discipleship, it is a consequence of it.”
David and Kayla beamed with joy as they waded to the river bank. I noticed David’s shoes were old sneakers he didn’t mind getting in river water. Then I remembered baptizing him when he was 8. “Can I wear my water shoes, Dad?” he had asked, peering up at me, a tinge of fear in the child’s eyes, perhaps anticipating that I would say “no.” When I asked why, I learned he was afraid of losing his footing on the slippery baptistry floor and sliding under the water.
“Of course you can, Davey,” I answered, hugging him. “You wear whatever helps you keep steady.”
Neither then nor now will he lose his footing as long as he stays grounded in Jesus Christ, who carries us in his arms on rainy days at the river as well as dry days in the warm water of a church baptistry.
In rain or snow, sunshine or storms, our Lord is the same, guiding us out of the water, from the river’s shore through the valley of death’s shadow, and to the green pastures of life with him forever.