Sam's baptism

I'm getting good at posting things out of order here. Sorry about that.

But even a month after the fact, I'd be sad if I didn't write something about Sam's baptism, which took place on Sunday, June 8 at First Lutheran Church in Decorah, Iowa.

It was a beautiful, crazy, family-filled, celebration-heavy weekend.

Matt's parents flew in from New Jersey. My parents drove in from Chicagoland. All three of my sisters came - Stephanie, Bethany, Kristin (plus Patrick, Laura, Shannon, Joanna, and Cameron). Jon and Charisse rode their motorcycles out. Throughout the weekend, we tripped over one another as we ate together and played together, as we celebrated together and gave gifts (two May birthdays, three June birthdays, Mother's Day, Father's Day, and baptism).

At the center of the whirlwind was little Sam, our miracle baby, and the worship service where we would get to hear the promise that he, Samuel Tyler, is a claimed and called, anointed and beloved child of God.

For as long as I've been a pastor, I've assumed that I would baptize our children because, well, why not? It'd be sweet and beautiful and meaningful. When Sam was born, I still completely expected that I'd want to do his baptism.

Strange, though, that not more than a handful of days before the baptism, I totally changed my mind on the issue. Not because I thought there was anything at all wrong or problematic about doing it, and who knows - I might yet choose to baptize any of our future children! But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I spend a lot of time with Sam, and that time is always a time of blessings passed back and forth between us.

Every time Sam smiles at me or reaches for me or I see his eyes light up with discovery and curiosity at the world around him, I feel like he, in his own way, is blessing me. And whenever I kiss him, or lay him down in his crib when he's asleep, or look at this beautiful child and think about how deep my love for him is, I feel like I, too, am blessing him.

And, if it makes sense at all, I started thinking that if I were the one to baptize him, would the blessing and anointing of baptism just get mushed together with all the other moments of blessing that Sam and I share, and maybe it would be nicer for me instead to play the part of the loving mama, being able to watch her son be blessed and baptized, and enjoy the moment from one step outside of it.

So on Sunday morning, June 8, I had the privilege of standing up at the front of the church in the middle of worship, next to the font, next to Matt and our dear friends Jon and Charisse who we asked to be Sam's godparents, being proud mama as Pastor Chad, my colleague and friend, lovingly poured water over Sam's head, prayed over him, anointed him with oil, and walked him up and down the center aisle so that the congregation could see his sweet little face as they welcomed him as a fellow brother in Christ.

Immediately following the baptism, a complete surprise to me, a "flash-mob" of choir members assembled around the piano to sing an anthem that my dad had written for the occasion as a blessing gift to Sam.

This would have been emotional all on its own, but heightened by the fact that just the week before, my dad had received an initial diagnosis of bone cancer in his shoulder, and so all emotions were running particularly close to the surface. The anthem was gorgeous. And my heart was full.

The weekend was over as quickly as it began. Lingering on my heart is the feeling of overwhelming gratitude for the family and friends who have walked this journey with us, and who love Sam and who are quick to care for him and care for us. Gratitude for this congregation that I serve and for the love that everyone here has shown to Sam and to all of us. Gratitude for the gift of baptism, which is a real way for me to remember, over and over again, that God is a God of promise and life and love.

Ok. Enough talk. Time for pictures. (And a video.)