Unexpected awe
Right before Jesus leaves earth after rising from the grave he tells his friends, "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always until the end of the age." (Matthew 28: 19-20)
The skies were grey and the rain poured hard. The heavens unleashed their grace and lavished us with good, unexpected things.
Instead of heading to Lake Hartwell for baptisms the way our church normally does due to the rain, our plan B became driving over to a Baptist Church and celebrating baptisms there. There was minor disappointment and a wonder among some if it would mean as much to be baptized in a place that had no personal or emotional ties for us at DCF.
The pews stretched out across their sanctuary. Jesus was etched in colorful glass in each window depicting scenes from his life. I walked past Jesus in Gethsemene, Jesus on the cross, Jesus and his disciples. Their front alter had a very large King James Bible and a standing gold cross. The wooden pulpit stood proud in the front. Behind the plush choir seats rose the baptismal pool. Lights gently reflected on the water. A microphone hung from the ceiling ready to catch the sweet blessing proclaimed as each person entered the pool. Here, they gather in their Sunday best- ties, dresses, and ironed shirts- and meet Jesus each Sunday.
We felt a bit out of place. It's a stark contrast compared to our humble church building, or rather basement. Amidst the rusting metal folding chairs, leaks from the restaurant above, the damp, humid air, the Christmas lights hanging around the stage that in which a set of those little bulbs to not turn on, and an alter holding a ceramic replica of a crown of thorns, we too- in our jeans, t-shirts, and chacos- meet Jesus each Sunday.
There are many things our churches does different than other churches and other churches who do things differently than us, but the one we all hang our hope on is Jesus. We all cling to His words with every fiber of our being. We all celebrate baptisms.
All across Clemson, the state of South Carolina, the United States, and the whole world, people participate in baptisms. Maybe it's in a baptismal pool, maybe it's in Lake Hartwell, maybe it's in a bathtub, maybe it's in the Mediterranean Sea or the Jordan River. It makes no difference to the Lord. We all unite with Christ and each other when we plunge the surface and are raised back up.
So instead of disappointment to not be in Lake Hartwell, I found deep and unexpected awe, reverence, and appreciation for Jesus through the sacrament of baptism. I am thankful that God would choose to teach us about His church body in that way.
Praise be to the God who always blows our expectations out of the water (that pun was for Aaron :))!
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Instead of heading to Lake Hartwell for baptisms the way our church normally does due to the rain, our plan B became driving over to a Baptist Church and celebrating baptisms there. There was minor disappointment and a wonder among some if it would mean as much to be baptized in a place that had no personal or emotional ties for us at DCF.
The pews stretched out across their sanctuary. Jesus was etched in colorful glass in each window depicting scenes from his life. I walked past Jesus in Gethsemene, Jesus on the cross, Jesus and his disciples. Their front alter had a very large King James Bible and a standing gold cross. The wooden pulpit stood proud in the front. Behind the plush choir seats rose the baptismal pool. Lights gently reflected on the water. A microphone hung from the ceiling ready to catch the sweet blessing proclaimed as each person entered the pool. Here, they gather in their Sunday best- ties, dresses, and ironed shirts- and meet Jesus each Sunday.
We felt a bit out of place. It's a stark contrast compared to our humble church building, or rather basement. Amidst the rusting metal folding chairs, leaks from the restaurant above, the damp, humid air, the Christmas lights hanging around the stage that in which a set of those little bulbs to not turn on, and an alter holding a ceramic replica of a crown of thorns, we too- in our jeans, t-shirts, and chacos- meet Jesus each Sunday.
There are many things our churches does different than other churches and other churches who do things differently than us, but the one we all hang our hope on is Jesus. We all cling to His words with every fiber of our being. We all celebrate baptisms.
All across Clemson, the state of South Carolina, the United States, and the whole world, people participate in baptisms. Maybe it's in a baptismal pool, maybe it's in Lake Hartwell, maybe it's in a bathtub, maybe it's in the Mediterranean Sea or the Jordan River. It makes no difference to the Lord. We all unite with Christ and each other when we plunge the surface and are raised back up.
So instead of disappointment to not be in Lake Hartwell, I found deep and unexpected awe, reverence, and appreciation for Jesus through the sacrament of baptism. I am thankful that God would choose to teach us about His church body in that way.
Praise be to the God who always blows our expectations out of the water (that pun was for Aaron :))!
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