Dear girls,

The divine miss m was baptized today. It was a joyful occasion.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between C’s and M’s baptisms. C, yours took place in the midst of a year full of milestones—my father’s death, my graduation, ordination, and moving to Suburban Pres. to be their associate pastor. Your baptism didn’t even have its own day—I was installed as pastor later that same day, to capitalize on lots of out of town family who came to visit.

I like the way that your baptism was just part of the fabric of our lives, one milestone among many, but I spent so much of that year feeling unmoored that many particularities of your baptism floated past me, unnoticed.

I do remember that you didn’t wear anything special, just a little pink outfit I’d bought at Sears the day before while your father shopped for some home-improvement item for the new house. You were about five months old, and I remember you clamoring for the water. I also learned later from the pictures that your little belly was sticking out below your pink cotton shirt. We could not be bothered with socks or shoes. It was the middle of July.

M, you also were five months old, and you too clamored for the water, but in some ways your baptism could not have been more different. It’s often the case that second kids get all the hand-me-downs and afterthoughts, but you had your own actual baptismal gown, a simple cotton garment with smocking, and matching shoes provided by your Grammy. Her gift and presence were a way of having your Grandpa here.

It was a large crowd of family here, including every one of your living grandparents; but unlike with C there was no multi-tasking—today was all about you. After the service the congregation had a picnic on the church grounds, and years from now you will see the pictures of that event and may think that it was all for you! It wasn’t—it’s been on the calendar some time, but it is certainly true that you are loved and celebrated today.

Senior Pastor preached right to you—literally. She held you and spoke for as long as you’d put up with it. She began by saying, “This sermon is for M—she and I are just going to have a little conversation; you all can listen in.” Well she certainly got a conversation out of you! You were fascinated by the microphone and seemed to want to make a speech yourself.

She spoke about the challenges that you (and all of us) will face as you grow as a disciple of Jesus. We are challenged by war and violence, by poverty, and even by affluence. “Whom shall I send?” God asked Isaiah, and Isaiah answered, “Here am I, send me.” We all hope that you will make that same statement of response to God, when you’re older; in the meantime, we made a promise to teach you the life of faith.

Many people congratulated me after the service. I was puzzled about this. Congratulations? I guess so. But handing you over to be baptized is a statement that your father and I can’t do this by ourselves, that we need help in raising you in the Christian faith. And if you do it right, it’s not an easy path—being a Christian will demand something of you. So congratulations are strange sentiments today: “Way to go, admitting your inadequacy! And good job, surrendering your child to the way of self-sacrificial love and radical discipleship.”

Ah well.

Finally I will say that your father is a man of few words when it comes to his faith and his spiritual life. But I caught his eye from over the baptismal font and he looked very, very happy. So am I. We’re happy you’re a part of our family.

Love,
Your mother