Good Baptisms Gone Bad

I grew up in church and witnessed many water baptisms; you know, the good dunking kinds of baptism. We were Baptists, so, of course we believed it took a good head-to-toe-put-you-all-the-way-under-soaking-kind of immersion. You would think that just from witnessing so many baptisms, including my own about age 12, it would be a pretty simple thing to conduct a baptism. I suppose it seemed so simple that no one ever really thought to teach us in Bible College just how to go about such a service.

Then came my first opportunity to perform a baptism. Many questions suddenly presented. Does the candidate just duck under the water or should he be lowered backward and then lifted again? How do you grab the candidate as he is lowered into the water in an adequate manner to prevent losing him or drowning him or seeing his feet float to the top as he begins to do the backstroke? If the candidate is a female, how do you hold on without being inappropriately friendly? What happens if she needs to hold her nose to prevent gurgling and choking? Should we provide those little swimmie nose clips, or does such a humorous sight diminish the sacred propriety of the moment, and what about those robes we gave to all the celebrants - How do you keep it from floating up over the head as he comes into the baptismal pool? What do you do if the very top part of the head did not go all the way under? What exactly were the words I was required to say? Should I pronounce, "...in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit," before the dunking, as it takes place or as the candidate is being raised out of the water? How do you keep from squealing aloud at the coldness of the water because someone forgot to turn on the water heater, if it even had one, or if you were in the local river? How do you deal with the flailing of the candidate who has a fear of water, and what about the handicapped candidate in the wheelchair or on crutches? There were so many questions for which I needed answers.

Some of my favorite baptism stories follow. I heard the story from an older minister who was officiating a baptism in a river. They took a couple of steps too far into the river and found themselves in over their heads. The current began to wash them away and they both got baptized again.

Then there were friends of ours who grew up in a non-immersion church and were not sure how to "perform" when they entered the baptistry. As soon as the husband and wife stepped in and before the minister could really say anything, they just bent their knees and ducked under the water. The minister frantically splashed around in the water trying to "lay hands on" the couple as he sputtered the correct pronouncement, "...in the name of...".

My father-in-law decided it would be a good idea to wear fishing waders so he would not get his clothes wet. He failed to account for the level of water displacement that would occur when the candidate came into the pool with him. Water rushed into the waders and not only did he get his clothes wet, but he was now unable to move because of the weight of water in his waders. He also learned the hard way it is not a good idea to tap on the microphone set up just outside the pool while standing in the baptismal water.

My own personal worst nightmare regarding baptism occurred about 12 hours before the service. On this particular Saturday night, I had turned on the water to fill the tank. It usually took about 35 minutes to fill and was always a boring responsibility to have to wait on it to get full. I watched a few minutes till the water was above the mark at which it was safe to turn on the heaters. I decided to do a little more study in the office while I waited. I became deeply absorbed in my study, but finally finished and headed to my house for much needed sleep. I went to bed, then sat bolt upright about midnight with a nightmarish thought. Did I turn off that water? I could not remember doing so and felt it prudent that I rush back to check on it. You see, the baptistry we had did not have an automatic shutoff to cut the water flow when it reached the full mark. It had now been at least 3 hours, probably longer, since I had begun the 35 minute process. As I ran into the sanctuary, water was freely flowing over the sides onto the stage floor, running just as freely off the stage and all the way to the back of the 500 seat auditorium. I cut the water, but the damage had been done. I called one of the men in our church who had a carpet cleaning business to tell him what had happened, hoping he would volunteer to load his wet vacs and come assist me in the cleanup. However, he graciously offered me the use of his equipment if I would just drive to his house and pick it up, a 30 minute drive each way. I know it was my responsibility, but I was sure counting on a "servant-hearted member" to come help me in this pinch. He didn't. As I spent the next several hours wet-vaccing the sanctuary, putting down all the towels we owned and setting up drying fans, I can't say I was appreciating the ministry.

I almost decided that night to become a Methodist. They believed in "Sprinkling Baptisms".