Pathways to His Presence: Remembering My Baptism

By B.J. Funk

Whenever my mother went into the cedar chest in her bedroom, she always allowed me to gently remove the yellowed envelope with my name typed on the front. I could feel it, smell it, hold it; but I could not open it until I turned thirteen. I remember the anticipation I felt each time I saw that envelope. Opening it would be one of the highlights of my life. Would thirteen ever come?Finally, the day came. Inside was a letter from the pastor who baptized me along with the crumbled rose that had sat on the altar on my baptism day, thirteen years earlier. Was I disappointed? Not a chance. My mother had done a grand job of telling me the significance of baptism, the importance of that day. The contents of that letter were like a fragrance that had been carefully guarded until the day I could better understand the meaning of that special day. The pastor’s letter explained the significance of my baptism. The rose meant that my church took time to notice the day a baby was touched by the imprint of God. I cry now when I think of it. Nothing about my thirteenth birthday party was as important to me as that letter.
I can’t explain this in understandable language, because it is a holy mystery. But on that day, when I didn’t realize who God was, God knew who I was. Through the symbol of water, He said to me, “You are mine. You belong to me.” Isaiah 44:5 says, “One will say, “I belong to the Lord…..still another will write on his hand, ‘The Lord’s.’” On that day, God wrote on my hand, “The Lord’s.” No matter what happens in my life, I only have to look at my hand to remember whose I am. Thank you, Father, for the faded rose and yellowed letter. They are a symbol of a deep, life-changing truth.

Rev. B.J. Funk is associate pastor of Central UMC in Fitzgerald.