Hot Tub Baptism

Last week, while on vacation with our friends the Spencers, I had the privilege of baptizing the youngest Spencer, Nicholas. We did it in mid-afternoon in the hot tub at the resort where we were staying, with both our families in attendance, and lots of other people around the resort's pool area. In fact, as I was standing in the hot tub with Nicholas, explaining to him the meaning and significance of baptism, another young boy and his father slipped into the hot tub with us and watched the whole thing from a front-row seat! I heard him ask his father what was happening as I was about to submerge Nicholas, and his dad explained that I was baptizing. The conversation didn't go much further than that (at least in my hearing), but it was as public a baptism as I think I've ever done. And it was good.

Last fall, I baptized three young men, including my own son, in Village Creek in east Texas, in a state park swimming hole. I also participated in several baptisms on Lake Austin in the '90s. We usually baptized on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, and the lake was always packed. Boats full of people would slow down and watch as we were baptizing. Some would cheer, others would heckle. That's just part of the deal when you're in a public place, but overall I think it's both fitting and exciting. My own baptism, like that of probably most Christians in America, was in a church baptistry while wearing a white robe. I remember how strange I thought it was that the pastor wore rubber waders under his robe. My family and church members were in attendance. It was definitely meaningful, but after having experienced more public baptisms, if I had it to do over again I would choose the lake or the creek. Maybe even the hot tub too!

In the church I grew up in, the method of choice for publicly announcing one's faith in Jesus was walking down the aisle at church at the end of a service and talking to the pastor. The pastor would then announce to the church whatever decision had been made, and the baptism would occur at a later date. In this scenario, I'm not exactly sure what the baptism really signified, since the fact that I had become a follower of Christ had already been publicly announced. We did it in obedience and following Christ's example, but I think much of the meaning of the baptism was lost.

Baptism is older than Christianity itself. It has roots in the many ceremonial washings of Old Testament Law, and there were even forms of baptism in most pagan religions. But from the very beginning of the Christian church, water baptism was the public ritual by which a person identified himself or herself as a Christian. This public ritual, however, has become a somewhat private affair in modern expression. Church buildings are not the community centers they once were, where anything that happened in the church was public knowledge. Today, much of what happens inside a church building is known only to those present at the time.

My purpose is not to diminish anyone's baptism, far from it. Being baptized is a cause for celebration anytime, anywhere. But all other things being equal, I think baptizing publicly captures an important aspect of the ritual. There is something bold and exciting about a person making that commitment for all eyes to see. And those eyes may never forget it.