Baptism

            This past Sunday, my three sons were baptized. Not at all J3s decision, although when asked he did answer, “Yeah.” And I am fairly curtain that J1 only agreed to it because J2 was going to have it done.

            What started this event occurred Christmas Eve 2015. I stood up, leaving my sons with my parents and proceeded to partake in communion. The fact that J2 was left out of something, obviously important to a large portion of the church, deeply upset him. This, I was already prepared for. I used this opportunity to discuss baptism with my son.

            It went something like this:

                            

Me: Sweetie, it is not right to take communion without being baptized.

J2: I’m a big boy, I want to be baptized.

Me: Sweetie, choosing to be baptized is a big decision. It means that you understand that Jesus loves you and choosing to love Jesus. It means that you are going to try to be a good person and walk the path Jesus would have you walk.

J2: I’m a good boy. I love Jesus. Jesus loves me. Also, He made the worms.

Me: Okay, well, let me talk to Daddy about it.

            And I did. We waited a couple of weeks to see what would happen. Then one morning as we were getting ready for church J1 and J2 come in. J2 asks if they can be baptized. J1 simply nods his consent to wanting an answer to the question. Once again I explain that it is a big decision and that they need to be sure. J2 was jumping up and down as if my answer had been yes and he was ecstatic. I did the next thing I could think of. I made an appointment for our family to talk to our pastors. The resulting decision was that all three of our boys would be baptized together. The baptism was still weeks out and without fail, every Sunday, J1 or J2 would eventually ask if today was the day.

            Finally, the day came. Mother-in-law had already arrived. We went through an early morning rehearsal. I had explained, multiple times, the schedule for the day. Everything is going smoothly, at least, as smoothly as it ever does. J2 was running around, not loudly, but out of reach for me to be able to stop him. This is a new behavior that I have not yet figured out how to negotiate.

            Then children’s time occurs. This is the point where all the children sit in the front of the sanctuary and have the sermon explained to them in terms they can understand. J2 uses this time to crawl around and under the communion table. Usually, it is after this that the boys go down to the nursery and play. Not today though. This leads to the first melt down. J1 begins to cry. I carry him to the back and explain that because he is being baptized today he cannot go to the nursery. I add that if he would rather not be baptized I would take him to nursery. No harm. No foul.

            No, he wants to be baptized.

            As we return to the pews, I find J2 sitting as far away from everyone as he can get. This of course gives me easy access to him and I take the moment to pull him into the back as well. This conversation is a little different. I take him all the way to the back, through the choir room, and into a bathroom. I expect that a spanking is coming and a resulting screech of outrage to proceed.

           

Me: We talked about this last week and you are too old to roam around and cause mischief. I will not have it. Do you understand me?

           

J2: Now covering his backside, knowing that I am unhappy and that he knows better and deserves a spanking. Doesn’t actually say anything. He simply nods.

           

Me: Good, then you will return to the pew and sit down and behave or we will be back in the bathroom and you will receive a spanking. Do you hear me?

J2: Another nod.

            The culmination of our day arrives as the five of us are standing around the baptismal font with our pastors, an elder of the church whose family means a lot to me, and the children of our church. One woman is taking pictures for her mom who could not be present. Another is taking pictures to be helpful. As well as my mother-in-law, who is taking videos for my father-in-law, who could not be there either. Of course that is not the circus I am watching.

            I am watching J2 play in the water and then wipe his hands off on my backside. For whatever reason the decision was made to baptize J2 first. I didn’t even get to enjoy the moment as I see another melt down pushing the edge of J1s sanity. J1 realizes that the pastor is going to pour water on his head. He quietly removes his hand from the font and backs up beginning to shake his head.

            “I don’t want to do this.” He says in such a quiet voice that I am the only one who hears him.

            I reach out to grab his arm doing my best to get hubby to take J3 who I have been bouncing in my arms as he has already signed many times that he is done. Hubby takes J3. I lift J2 into my arms and hand him off to the pastor, who is already noticing the issue. Our other pastor steps in to attempt to keep him as dry as possible and to J1s everlasting credit his melt down is silent. He is passed off to the other pastor who is doing her best to dry and comfort him. My focus is on J1 and wanting so much to hold him and tell him how proud of him I am that I miss J3s baptism as well.

            This ends with the boys being lead around the church. J3 leads the procession in the arms of the pastor. J2 is waving to people smiling. I still have no idea what was going on through his mind. J1 is desperately holding onto my hand still patting his head from time to time to see if there is any water left.

            At the time, I was just so relieved that things went as smoothly as they did. Now, I can reflect on the idea that every year we can celebrate their adoption into an endless family of brothers and sisters.