on baptism (2 of 2)

Photo by Cristina Ferrigno; bowl by Meg Cramer

I wrote last week in anticipation of baptizing Benjamin on Sunday—and what a blessing it was. I had been thinking of the waters of baptism as being like waves breaking on the shore: they just keep coming; the sea keeps on overflowing itself.

We put that image to use on Sunday, filling the baptismal font to overflowing to symbolize the overflowing heart of God, which holds Benjamin—and all of us—for ever.

Benjamin is almost a year old, and a delight in every way: curious, contemplative, super cute…adored by his family and their many friends.

We’re keeping his picture offline, but picture this: Benjamin and his parents and godmother Veralyn gather around this empty bowl on a wooden table, and his godfather Fernando brings over a big glass vase full of warm water.

And as I’m giving God thanks for the gift of water, and recounting God’s mighty acts of creation and liberation through water, I’m filling up the bowl, and the water is coming up to the top …and it’s overflowing the bowl, spilling over the sides, and it’s making a huge mess—and the kids are looking at me like I’m crazy, but I keep going… because

I reflected on this on Instagram, and here’s the gist: Baptism makes real to us that God’s heart overflows for us and with us, enveloping all our joys and sorrows, saturating all our pain and grief—and in a mystery we don’t understand but can experience, redeeming it all: making it all whole, and new, and alive.

Baptism initiates us into the particular way of life that joins God in making the world whole and new, the way of love and liberation and true, life-giving solidarity with others and the earth.

In baptism we commit to live by giving ourselves away, to float on the tide of divine life. We commit to the risk of letting our hearts be filled to overflowing, and poured out for the healing of this wounded world.

What a joy to share that with Benjamin: our first baptism as this new Episcopal Mission in Sunnyside.