My children tease me about many things.
What is predictable is a tease following baptisms. I love being able to be a part of baptisms. The power of enfolding and naming and proclaiming grace and identity on behalf of the movement through the ages makes me near crazy with wonder. Without exception, I believe with all I am that the babies know well that they are participating in miracle. They are “right there” with their eyes: open, aware, present, holy. So I come home bubbling with the story of how it is holy communion is shared and my children know the ways that their mother’s heart has to tell the story or burst. So they listen, God bless them.
This past Sunday has me humming yet. Baptised in the midst of a community of grace and joy were a mom and her three-year old. Both of them are wise beyond the ages.
The wee one was held by her mother and baptised first. As an invitation to feel the sweet of the baptismal water, I asked her if she wanted to feel it, knowing that she would.
Her sweet palm was nestled in the water of grace as she was baptised.
And then, when it came time to baptise her mother, I asked her if she wanted to help, knowing that of course she would.
And so we blessed in the name of the Creator, the Redeemer, the Sustainer. Water; gift of earth, flow of life, wash of grace was gentled onto the head of a woman who is already witness of the Way.
She who was nurtured in the water of her mother’s womb used water to bless and welcome her mother to life.
Water washed, wonder full.