What happens in baptism? Is it the great conversion moment of our lives? The Rev. Jay George, church planter for the congregation of Grace Church in San Antonio, Texas, thinks that’s only part of it. 

One of the really exciting things about planting a new church is that you get to make up traditions as you go along. There is no one to say, “We’ve always done it that way,” because the “we” is only about six people and “always” only goes back to last Thursday.

A new tradition we’ve started at Grace Church centers around baptism. When we have a baptism we add something at the end. After everyone has been dunked and sealed, while my thumb is still slick with oil, I invite people to come forward to renew their commitment to Christ, or make a commitment if they never have before.

When folks come forward to re-commit themselves, I mark their foreheads with the sign of the cross, as was done in their baptism, and say, “I remind you that you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit in your baptism, and marked as Christ’s own forever.” And when someone comes forward to make a new commitment to Christ, I baptize that person on the spot. Well, that hasn’t actually happened yet. But I’m hoping.

For us, this brings up all sorts of interesting questions about baptism. Working with people who did not grow up in the Episcopal Church, or any church for that matter, will do that. They ask things like: “Why do we even have baptism? What happens when we get baptized?” And, “Why do you ask us if we will do all in our power to support this person in his life in Christ?”

Which question led directly to another new baptismal tradition at Grace Church. Before the baptism we fill lots of glasses with water and set them on a table near the font (well, sort of a font – looks very similar to a bird bath; okay, it is a birdbath, but it’s a holy birdbath.). At the time of the blessing of the water, everyone in the congregation is invited to come forward, grab a glass, and pour water into the font/bird bath. Then the community surrounds the baptismal candidate as we initiate her into the family of Christ.

The point, of course, is that we all participate in the baptism. For this new, often previously unchurched congregation, welcoming people into the community is what we’re all about. We stress relationships – with each other but, more importantly, with Jesus.

Whatever else baptism is, it is significant in a relationship with Christ, a kind of liquid marker on a journey. I tell my people baptism is like a wedding. A wedding does not begin a relationship, nor will it magically make a relationship better. What the engaged couple has together the day before they exchange rings, they carry with them the day after – for good and for ill. So, too, baptism does not begin a relationship with Jesus. The relationship one has with Christ is celebrated, strengthened and proclaimed in baptism. But rarely is it begun. As with the wedding, so with the water.

With one slight difference.  At a wedding, we marry a bride or a groom – a wonderful, fallible, loving and broken human. In baptism, we are the bride and Christ is the groom. We wed our Creator, our Savior, our Sustainer and Lord. As we give ourselves with words and water, he fills us with his grace and mercy. How this works, exactly, we neither know nor understand.

But we do know this: Baptism is a visible, personal, communal signature of grace. Grace given by God. Grace conveyed not merely to add a name to the church register or to fulfill social custom. Grace conveyed in and for relationship. Baptism extends the relationship begun in us, carrying it beyond ourselves and beyond our traditions. Marked as Christ’s own and sealed by his Spirit, we are sent forth into the world, proclaiming the good news of Christ and inviting others into that relationship with us. 

by the Rev. Jay George, church planter in the Episcopal Diocese of West Texas.

From Reflections magazine, Spring/Summer 2010. Produced by The Episcopal Diocese of West Texas. All rights reserved.

Read the entire spring/summer issue at http://www.dwtx.org/index.php/prayer/Reflections_Online

Chicken Little was in the woods one day when an acorn fell on her head. It scared her so much she trembled all over. She shook so hard, half her feathers fell out.

“Help! Help! The sky is falling! I have to go tell the king.”

“Slow down there, Chicken Little. Do your breathing exercises. The sky is not falling.”

“It’s not?”

“No. Not the sky. Just the budget.”

“Just the budget! Just the budget!”

“Yes, just the budget. We’ve cut programs by $100,000.”

“SQUAWK! $100,000! The sky IS falling!”

“Look, I don’t have time to argue. Let’s just say, for the sake of your amazing lack of vision, that the sky IS falling. So what if it is?”

“So what if the sky is falling? So what! But will happen if the sky falls?”

“When the sky falls, you can finally see beyond the horizon.”

“What’s a horizon?”

“Oh good heavens. Look, the horizon is an artificial construction of your brain that is merely the point beyond which you cannot see. It doesn’t physically exist. It’s an idea.”

“Oh. I didn’t understand that, either.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“So what happens when you see beyond this artificial whatahoos-it?”

“You can see new horizons, new opportunities, new possibilities.”

“New opportunities?”

“Right.”

“New possibilities?”

“You are correct, sir.”

“I’m not a sir. I’m a chicken.”

“And you never watched Johnny Carson.”

“Who?”

“Never mind, you paltry poultry. Just look at it this way: the falling budget is not the end, it’s a new beginning. A new possibility for our community to examine our individual and communal heart.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“You silly chicken! Of course it’s a good thing. It’s not comfortable. It may not even be pleasant. But in doing so, we gain new perspective.”

“With the new horizon.”

“Now you’re getting it. Just think, we can re-learn the difference between want and need. We can re-examine our mission and how our programs do or do not support it. We can open ourselves to the possibility of more.”

“More? If the budget’s falling, isn’t there less?”

“Less budget leads us to greater opportunity. To the chance to give more of ourselves, our time, our actions, our money – our very lives.”

“So the budget falling is a good thing?”

“It could be. Depends on how we live it out. We can duck our heads under our wings, cowering in fear, closing our eyes to the opportunities now before us. Or we can reach out for more.”

“More budget?”

“More life. John 10:10.”

“Johnny Carson?”

“Different John.”

“So the falling budget is really an opportunity for more life.”

“That a girl.”

“I’m not a girl…”

“Right. You’re a chicken.”

“And I’ve got to go tell the king.”

“Chicken Little, the King already knows.”

By the Rev. Jay George. George leads Grace Church, a new congregation in northwest San Antonio.

 This article first appeard in the Fall 2009 edition of Reflections magazine. To read the entire magazine, click here http://www.dwtx.org/index.php/prayer/Reflections_Online_Fall_2009

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