Remembering baptism

My sister was baptized today. I wasn't able to be in Kansas City to see it, but I was certainly with her in spirit. I am so proud of her. Congratulations, Grace!

In our Easter service at church (or maybe whenever we have a baptism?) we have a ritual during communion called "remembering your baptism" wherein, after taking communion, people may share the date and place of their baptism with the pastor and be anointed with water. Our church allows "all who seek the way of Christ" to take communion, not just baptized members, so I like this ritual of calling attention to the importance of baptism. After all, as Mennonites, we are Anabaptists -- "re-baptizers". Our denomination was born out of the radical idea (for the 1500s, not for the early church) that joining the church through baptism ought to be a decision made by an adult believer. Traditionally, only the baptized take communion, which is how I was raised.

I think I was baptized in the spring of 2002. Possibly 2003. It was spring, but wasn't Easter, and I have forgotten the date. I was 14 or 15, but my birthday is in May, so I might remember that I was 15 when I hadn't actually turned 15 yet - hence the confusion about the year. I remember being baptized vividly. I wore a blue and white floral skirt I had bought on a trip to Europe and a white sweater. I sat in the right front pew with my friend Kate. We were so nervous; we giggled at the mundane image on the worship bulletin cover. We were baptized together - kneeling, her to my right, backs to the congregation, first Kate, then me. I remember Carmen, the deacon who held the water pitcher, and Beatrix, a beloved Sunday School teacher who held towels for us, though I didn't really need one; there was much less water poured on me than I thought there would be.

I chose to be baptized because 9/11 had happened, and the invasions of Afghanistan and maybe also Iraq, and I had uncovered my pacifist Mennonite roots. My spiritual upbringing had been a combination of my parents' somewhat mystic spiritual beliefs, a staunch prohibition of toy guns and violent media, Sunday School stories, and church camp. I started praying and going to church of my own accord in middle school. But 9/11 and its aftermath prompted the discovery that I was, as it turned out, "in the world but not of the world." And so I was baptized.

There was no conversion experience. I still do not have a "personal relationship with Jesus," although I believe that what he taught is worth following. As far as I'm concerned, my baptism doesn't secure me a place in heaven. What I do have is ownership of my heritage, a personal relationship with my church community, and a commitment to that community and to continual spiritual reflection and discernment. Baptism was choosing that commitment.