The Gentle Jolt of a Covenant

At potential new church family #2 (a.k.a. Crossroads Pres.) there was a baptism Sunday morning. Enter mom, dad, and pastor. Throw in cousins, grandparents and great grandparents. Add still cameras, video cameras, one with a really large, really annoying flash. Let us not forget one sleeping cherubic baby baptizee in a white gown who slept through almost the entire ceremony.

She slept through the explanation of baptism and God's covenant relationship with his people. The whole, "I will be your God and you will be my people," thing. She slept through her parent’s vows and the congregation's vows to bring her up in a manner that is pleasing and honorable to God. She slept through being passed from mother to pastor, and through being show around the room as the pastor talked about the meaning of covenant and the purpose of this sacrament. She even slept through the large annoying flash of her great grand father's camera. There was one element of her baptism, her very own baptism, that she couldn't ignore: the Water.

Great glops of it hit her forehead and she jolted awake. Rudely roused from her peace by splashes of water, it was easy to ignore all the words, the handling, the grown up voices, even the parental paparazzi. What was hard to ignore was the elemental intrusion of water on head. Water, that means that she is set apart by a covenant of love and will one day be roused once again by these same people to choose for herself.

"I will be your God and you will be my people," is the offer that is on the table.