Waiting for our loaves and fish, Younger Daughter wanted to know about the ritual of Baptism. Not sure why. But yes, I started to explain: in our church there was a tradition of expecting very young children to feel the spirit and "come forward," preparatory to the full immersion that would wash away our sins. Or something.
And of course, as a diligent six-year old who'd been frightened to death of hell-fire-- not by Mom and Dad, but by the churchly agents of "good" they'd chosen to immerse us in, for our alleged own good-- I found myself moving down the aisle one Sunday as the old hymns cycled and the congregation sang. No clue what I was up to, but apparently that didn't matter. The point was not to question, but to be "saved."
So, yes: I was Baptized. Preacher must not have done it right, though. It clearly didn't take.
Thank goodness.
My two sons (7 and 8 at the time)spend an evening with my sister and went to church with her the next morning. When she brought them home she informed me that I "should be real peoud of them"..."Why?" I asked. "Because they got saved this mornin", she proclaimed. She became quite upset when I did not paise them for this act of ignorance. Being a Unitarian, I was a bit taken aback that she would take it upon herself to do this, but didn't get angry. I asked "Do you beleive once saved always saved?" and of course she did...My reply, "then they're good for life...now leave them alone."
ReplyDeleteMoral of the story... Phil- you're good for the long hall...just a backslider. HaHaHa