A Joyful Conclusion

I don't remember much from my first Easter as a pastor. I know I wore the dress my sister bought for me at a consignment shop in Oregon. I've worn that every Easter since becoming a pastor. I suspect my hair was long and quite blonde. But maybe I hadn't started the highlights yet, so... maybe not so blonde. I think that was the year I stood in the narthex puzzling at all the unfamiliar faces. I know I felt a sadness because all our regular families were away as spring break coincided with the holiday (as it does more often than not here). Somehow to have walked through Lent with folks and not then sharing Easter with them feels... wrong.

One person and one moment from that service I do remember well. There was a young man there with long and thick, maybe even gnarly, wavy, dark hair. I remember making note of him as a I preached. (What I preached I couldn't tell you. I think it had something to do with Jesus.) He seemed intense and engaged. He greeted me in the narthex after the service and expressed an urgent need to talk. So we headed down to the basement.

He spoke rapidly and his thoughts jumped all over the place. One thing, and perhaps one thing only, was clear. He wanted to be baptized. As soon as possible. He needed to be baptized. So I took his name and number and said we'd talk further.

We may have talked once or twice on the phone. I know that we talked enough for me to gather that he was living with serious mental illness and for me to puzzle about whether a baptism not linked to active church participation or membership was something I could do. I knew how strongly he wanted this. And, at some point, I brought the request to session for a baptism, perhaps under unusual circumstances. And it was approved.

But he disappeared.

I left several phone messages. Eventually his mother called to say that he had been hospitalized. I think, that year, he was hospitalized for nearly four months. And I never heard from him again.

As disordered as his thinking was when first we met, I always trusted something in his strong urge to be baptized. And it always seemed sad to me that that never happened.

Well, he reappeared a year or more ago, now as the significant other of another woman in the congregation, a woman I baptized on Christmas day a few years ago with both of her children, a woman whom I first met when she was hospitalized in a difficult season with her mental illness. I sat by her bed and spoke softly and I think I sang to her. And when she was well she started coming to church. She has had a bumpy journey. I officiated at a wedding for her that was one of those marriages that was ill conceived, but even with ALL the extra pre-marital counseling I did... she was bound and determined. And if I didn't do it, a justice of the peace would. And it was important to me that when things fell apart she would still have a church community for support. I think the marriage lasted 10 days. She stayed away from church out of shame for some time. But eventually she came back. And, as much as it may have been wrong to marry them, it was right. If she had felt judged she would have stayed away... and it took her so long to ever feel safe at a church. Anyhow... so her new s.o. was the disappearing guy.

He didn't come to church with her at first, though he may have come to a mission dinner or two. But recently he has been worshipping with her. And several weeks ago he sent me a long e-mail sharing some of his story with me and bringing up the fact that he had never been baptized and the fact that this is troubling to him. His thoughts are clearly now more ordered than when we first met.

I was quick to offer the opportunity to be baptized at his earliest convenience. And he was eager to accept.

And our very last vespers service this past Saturday night was the occasion. Unlike the tears of last week, there was lots of giggling at this week's service. The Spirit was crackling amidst our small group. Five years and one month after the request was made he got on his knees, and I splashed generous amounts of water over his head in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And I laid hands on him and prayed for him. And I locked eyes with him as I anointed him a child of the covenant.

And immediately after the baptism he picked up his guitar and sang an original song "Student of God" for us. I had never heard him play or sing, but he shared in our baptismal counseling that this was his source of greatest joy. I asked if he had any songs that would be appropriate for worship. This one came to mind immediately. I encouraged him to offer it. I was a bit nervous when he started to play. The chords were heavy metal chords, and the guitar wasn't exactly in tune, but... his voice... was smooth and passionate. And the song was perfect. I can't remember all the words, but I do remember "I want to be a student of God." And the bridge "I am yours..." He played this song in the slot of the communion song. We usually sing something after the sermon during which or immediately after which people circle around the table for communion. Most everyone stayed in their pews to listen to him. But his s.o. and her two kids, baptized on another holiday weekend a few years ago, came and stood at the table, to be closer to him, I think. Everyone applauded when he finished and many came up to him as he put his guitar away to welcome him and express their gratitude.

We always spontaneously share prayers of gratitude and concern at various points in the communion liturgy. The prayers of thanksgiving last night went on and on and on... people kept doubling others prayers... and giggling.

Thanks be to God. Alleluia. Amen.