Happy Rebirthday: Meditation on Baptism and the Empty Tomb
Reading: Romans 6:2b-11 NRSV
How can we who died to sin go on living in it? Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. For whoever has died is freed from sin. 8 But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.
So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.
Meditation
This past Wednesday was what I call my "re-birthday," aka the anniversary of my baptism. It took place at an Easter worship service in a music venue in the heart of Nashville. The baptismal service was unlike anything I have experienced before or since. It was a proper celebration, with cheers, hugs, music, and tears. Waves of applause overcame the congregation every time someone reemerged from the baptismal waters. My baptism was incredible, overwhelming, and unforgettable. It was the kind of day that brings to mind this Kurt Vonnegut quote: "Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."
This is the only photo I have of my baptism. My back is to the camera while I embrace one of my best friends, who is beaming with joy. In the foreground you can see part of the (clean!) horse trough we were immersed in.
But even for all that, I remember only a few details from that day. I remember that my new friends from college were with me. I remember wearing white Keds. I remember that my clothes were much heavier coming out of the water than going in. I also remember that I nearly slipped and fell when I climbed out of the trough!
But most of all, I remember in the shower that morning before church, I felt like I was walking across a chasm on a tight rope, thinking to myself, Don't look down. Don't turn back. Something new is ahead.
To expand upon that last memory, let me tell you about something that my evangelical college campus ministry mentors called The Bridge to Life. The Bridge is an illustration used to encourage new believers to make the decision to surrender their life for Christ. The explanation goes like this: all humans (especially you) are on the far left, divided from God because we sin, blah blah blah. But Jesus' death on the cross provides a bridge over this division so that we (especially you) can be with God and receive eternal life, etc. etc.
Full resource available here, if you want to get into it.
This kind of theology carried over into my thoughts on baptism. Namely, I thought baptism was a kind of cure-all, a way for me to skip over the gap where we are divided from God. I thought baptism automatically meant that I was, as Romans 6:11 reads, "dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus."
The death part came easily--just cut off all the parts that have sin (aka things I'm ashamed of) in them and leave them behind. Then all of me will be alive, because there will be less of me altogether! That's a good thing, right?
Well, there's a problem with that. Getting rid of parts of yourself does not mean that they go away. It means that when I "live in Christ," not all of me is alive.
Only the parts of me that I find *acceptable* are alive. The rest of me is left in that tomb, sealed shut.
In order to make it over the bridge, I thought I had to leave half of myself behind.
I thought that was what I had to surrender.
I thought that was the price I had to pay in order to become sinless and perfect. (Gah! There's that word again!)
So, instead of skipping across that bridge in a straight line, my spiritual journey looks something more like this:
When I first created this, I thought that the loops represented every time I've fallen on my ass and screwed up. But I wonder now if those loops also show the times Jesus said,
Hey, you! Follow me.
We need to go back to that tomb.
You're still in there.
Now we're gonna get you out.
That is what salvation means to me. That is what the empty tomb has come to represent for me. It means the door is open, and I can walk out, wounds and all, as a whole person. After all, Jesus left the tomb with his entire body, including the broken parts.
My issues with perfectionism and self-loathing were there long before my baptism, and baptism did not cure those problems. I don't believe that's what this sacrament is for. There are a lot of interpretations and practices of baptism, but the one that I cling to is that it is an initiation into the life of the church by the Holy Spirit. Baptism does not require us to break ourselves down into pieces and present the good parts to be acceptable to God, but rather to bring our whole selves along for the journey.
I still need to loop back from time to time--but I don't have to go there alone. For Christ is with me, and I am in a community with people who go with me, too. Some of them who were there with me that Easter Sunday are still walking with me today.
That being said, I would not trade my baptism experience for anything. I gladly remember my "rebirthday" every year (well, as much as I can remember, anyway). I'm happy to continue walking with Christ, even if it doesn't look like skipping over a bridge at all.
So, here is my question for you to meditate upon:
Is there anything you want or need to revisit with God?
Incorrectly Christian is not about getting Christian discipleship "right" or doing everything "correctly," but rather about being imaginative, playful, and inquisitive about God and what it means to follow Jesus. What parts of this meditation will you pick up and play with?
