Thursday, March 24, 2016

Wearing White. Or, Helping to Choose My Daughter's Baptismal Gown

I can't decide if it is common for a child to have a choice of three different baptismal outfits or not? On one hand, we live in a consumeristic society that loves to buy things and even more so if there is a reasonable excuse such as, "wouldn't that be a pretty outfit for Petra to get baptized in?" Additionally some strains of American culture still value tradition and prize family heirlooms. Finally we just like to have stuff, even if it should be thrown out we try to make it work or keep it for the slimmest of sentimentality. I am quite the sinner concerning that last comment.

But on the other hand, Americans love immersive believer baptisms, in street clothes or bathing suits, and done in a hot tub or at the beach. And we love eschewing the old for the new. And, "hey, we can always throw this out now and replace it when we actually need it."

So my wife and I have 3 outfits to choose from and being the romantic that I am I voted for the one that would mostly make her look like she was in the Corleone family. And no I don't plan on granting any favors that I can't refuse "on this the day of my daughter's baptism."

She looks pretty cute.

What struck me, though, is that the outfit is entirely white.

Now obviously there is precedent to that as this scene from O Brother Where art Thou attests to:


But just as wearing white for the bride on her wedding day is a negotiable tradition in the same way many of our baptismal liturgies can be a take or leave proposition for most pastors and church council members. The early church considered baptism such a momentous thing that the catechumen, the men and women who were to be baptized into the church, would be educated about the faith for an entire year before being baptized during the easter vigil. In the Reformation people were hanged, decapitated, burned and drowned for their views on baptism. The cavalier attitude of Americans toward baptism is seen by many as a correction to the heavy emphasis put on it by our faith forebears, but perhaps the baby was thrown out with the baptismal water?

For me, a good piece of liturgy is a moment through which a symbolic act performed by one person extended to the entire congregation or vice versa; one symbolic act performed by the congregation had profound importance on the individual.

If I were to perform a wedding I would remind the attendees that the ceremony is a time to reflect on how the union of the bride and groom mirrors unity and love extended and received in their lives. The baptism should be the same thing. When a person is baptized it is one, among myriad times in a given year, when a member of the congregation would reflect on their own baptism and story.

This could take the form of my story where I recall that my parents had me baptized when I was very young and while I can barely remember the day, I know that before and after that the vows of my baptism were fulfilled by my community who raised me in knowledge, fear and love of the Lord. For another person, one of my many friends even, it may remind them of the time they received Christ in elementary school, Jr. High or High School and pursued baptism after a time of catechesis.

Because of this I will point out that the white of my daughters outfit does not indicate that she is pure. Rather it indicates that she is being made pure. Even at the time where it is hard to imagine any manifestations of sin emanating from her (trust me, they're there), she is justified, adopted and being sanctified.

I plan on saying a few things to the congregation as usually the parents are allowed a moment to frame the baptism with a particular thought, usually a scripture reading, before answering the questions regarding our commitment to raising her as a Christian. My reflection will invite the folks gathered to reflect on their own story, the ups and downs, but mostly the grace of our God who accompanies us through life and loved us enough to send his son for us, something we will be celebrating in an even more poignant way than usual this Easter Sunday.

I think this will be my final post for this lenten blog series concerning being a dad and considering what that means for my lenten practice. In the overwhelming hurt and violence in this world, I am glad that Ali and I can help usher Petra into a community where hurt and violence, even dust-essence, is not the final word.