LET’S GO TO A BAPTIZING

Drop back with me in time almost 60 years and go with me to a country church baptizing.  As a rule churches like the one I grew up going to didn’t have an indoor baptistry where you could keep the water as warm as a good bathtub and take people down in special white garments to baptize them.  They didn’t have any special waders from the preacher to put on to keep his suit or clothes from getting all wet and nasty.  Instead there were  appointed times when you would baptize several people in the creek or pond that was near by.  Usually the time of baptizing followed a week or two week long revival meeting where lots of folks would respond to the invitation and give their life to Christ.  I remember going to lots of these baptizing’s since dad was a preacher and since I had lots of brothers and sisters to be baptized before the time came for my own.

I remember three different locations that we used to baptize folks during that time and have no idea why we chose the three different spots.  One time I remember a baptism in the Lamar County lake.  We all stood on the backs of the lake and sang some song, usually “Shall we gather at the River” and the preacher would walk out into the water about waist deep and have each candidate for baptism to come out one at a time to be baptized.  Of course we baptized by means of immersion or there wouldn’t have been any need to go to the lake.  I think one of my sisters was baptized on that occasion but I am not sure.

When I reached the ripe old age of 8 I felt the need to give my life to the Lord and be baptized.  On that occasion we went to the second site for our baptizing.  It was on a creek that ran close to Lebanon Methodist church.  It was also a place where we often went to swim in the creek.  On this day when we went down to the creek and started to sing “Shall we gather at the River” there was a slight obstacle to our process.  There were several guys in the creek swimming around and having a good time.  My dad explained to them that they needed to come out of the water for a short time while we baptized some people who had committed their lives to Christ.  They were very hesitant to come out of the deep water where they were and everyone was wondering why in the world they didn’t just come on out as requested.  Finally, one of the older boys in the creek said to Dad, “Sir, we aren’t wearing any swim suits so we can’t come out right now with all these folks on the bank.”  There was a quick discussion of what to do now.  Should we go to another of the spots we used for baptizing or should we leave long enough for them to come out and get their clothes on.  As the discussion was going on one of the boys spoke up and said, “Why don’t you just go ahead with the baptism and we will stay in the deep water over here?  The water is too muddy for anyone to see anything anyway.”  Just as when Gamaliel told the Jews that the wise thing to do was to release the apostles they had arrested lest they find themselves fighting against God, the ones who were older and wiser and in charge decided that was a workable idea.

We sang “Shall we gather at the River.”  The others who were being baptism at the same time as me all prepared to walk down into the water for that big event.  I was taken by the hand, a handkerchief placed over my mouth and pushed under the water as the preacher held up his right hand and said, “I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Then up I came with my eight year old sins washed away to hear the crowd singing, “Are you washed in the blood, in the soul cleansing blood of the Lamb?”  I felt sure that I had been washed and was clean from all my sins.  Since we didn’t have baptismal clothes to put on, a dressing room to put anything on or off anyway, we would wear whatever clothes we came in and go home wet if we hadn’t dried out by the time we left.  But when one has been washed in the blood they aren’t really that concerned about how wet they are.

The third place we used for baptizing was out in a pasture on a creek a half mile or so off the main road in the Price community.  There was a barbed wire fence to cross and it was fairly common for the cows to gather around thinking they were about to be fed and sometimes they were upstream from the baptizing place in the water.  This spot was also a swimming hole where boys in my age group often met to swim for a while and cool off from the heat.  On one occasion when we went to this spot to baptize some who had made their commitment to the Lord in our revival meeting, after singing, “Shall we gather at the River” the people were baptized and everyone had moved back toward the cars, when a few boys decided, since we were there and it was hot and the water was cool it would be a great time to swim a little as well.  I don’t remember at all what or who was behind the idea of our jumping into the water and having a swim meet, clothes and all that day.  But what I do remember is getting a good running go and diving into the swimming hole as I had done on numerous occasions before.  But this time was very different.  There had been lots of rain earlier in the week and sand had been washed into the area where I made my dive into the creek.  To my great surprise the water wasn’t deep at all.  Instead I buried up to what seemed to me to be a foot or two of sand.  My feet at least for a moment were left sticking straight up in the water with my head and hands down in the sand.  Fortunately the sand wasn’t too deep for me to reach the bottom with my hands and shove myself back out of the sand and come sputtering to the top.  It was a huge lesson that I don’t plan to forget.  You don’t jump off the bank of a creek into the water without knowing what is under that water and how deep it is.  Although I can’t remember now, I suspect I learned another lesson or two from Dad when we got home for causing a stir after the baptizing.  Fortunately there are some things in life that are better forgotten and left in the sand.

Some years later I was reminded of those days and the baptisms when Linda and I carried a group of people to Trinidad to preach in a Gospel Crusade.  The crowds filled the building each night and on the last night of the crusade there were several folks who responded wishing to express their faith and turn from sin to God and be baptized into Christ.  Like those days back home in Alabama, there weren’t any indoor baptistries so we got into the few cars there, with each of them filled to the brim with people and headed to the ocean for a baptizing.  When we arrived it was late in the evening and dark as could be, so the ones with cars all kept their head lights on and pointed them toward the spot where they would be baptized.  The preacher walked out into the water and summoned each candidate to come along with him.  They were baptized and got back into the car, wet as could be and went home rejoicing.  The difference was, we didn’t sing, “Shall we gather at the River?”  We did sing but I don’t remember what it was.

Perhaps it would be good to gather again by the creek and sing “Shall we gather at the River” and then as people come out of the water sing, “Are you washed in the blood?”