All That Matters

The thing is, I had a whole list of mummy/feminist/parental-type issues to blog about. I could have picked any one of them. Except the one where I wax lyrical about the benefits of having a working dishwasher once again. Probably not what you want to hear about. Although I did catch one of my mummy friends giving me an 'OooooO' when I mentioned it.  I might have picked shared parental leave or postnatal body image. You would have related, hopefully at least cracked a smile in mild amusement, and possibly returned for discussion of such issues in the future. That would be my hope. As it turns out, there's only one thing in my head today, one thing that I keep coming back to and can't get away from. And that's how fantastically amazing the baptisms were at my church last night. Really. And that's not the kind of thing I thought I would be blogging on.

Now, I love a good baptism. What's not to love? Happy people getting dunked in freezing cold water, rising up out of said water to the sound of applause from the congregation and a shiny new slate. There's a high feel-good factor at a baptismal service. I've been to quite a lot of them. It's always nice, it's always moving. But last night I think there was something more profound about what happened.  

The place was packed, folding seats were being brought in from other parts of the church, people were standing, sitting on the floor. The atmosphere was electric. It was notable enough for me to get my phone out and tweet. And that's not something I do often. One by one, 11 people got up and told their stories. What life was like before they met Jesus, how they met Him and what had changed. Every story was amazing. But what was significant to me was how different each of these people were.  A beautifully-manicured young woman with a perfect face of make up and pearl earrings who spoke eloquently, a 7 foot-giant of a man with a seriously hefty gold cross round his neck, a timid middle-aged lady whose voice came so softly we had to strain to hear. Each story was unique, and bore testament to the amazing transforming power of the cross in its own way. A life of criminal activity turned around since hearing and accepting the gospel. A woman locked in a prison cell for the umpteenth time, desperate to know if the God she'd heard about was real; overjoyed when He answered her cries with a vision and a deep, deep peace in her heart - now working, off drugs and loving Jesus. A lady in the middle of her life who simply stated that she had always loved Jesus. A young woman addicted to alcohol who'd lost three children as her life slipped off the rails, repeatedly admitted to mental health units and medical wards, changed as she came to know Jesus - no longer addicted and holding down a job. A woman set free from a destructive relationship that had lasted nearly an entire decade because she heard God's call on her life.  Two young women who had both grown up in Christian households, finding faith for themselves and using their baptism as a public declaration of their own faith. A man who played bible bingo (opening your bible at a random page and choosing a random passage), came up with 'The Parable of The Sower' and decided if the church service that afternoon was on that passage, that that meant God was real and he'd become a Christian. Needless to say, the service was indeed about 'The Parable of the Sower'.

Each of these people from different backgrounds, different colours, different genders, different communities, different levels of education, different incomes, different life experiences... They all went into the same water.

The sheer simplicity of this was stunning. Where else would you see each of these together? Each on a level with the other. Equally considered children of The Most High God. And there was I. As much a brother and sister of one of those as with my own flesh and blood. Tonight I was no-one's mother, no one's wife. My profession, my ambitions, my identity struggles... swept away by one clear truth. We were all people who at one point had heard a story about a man who died on a cross to take our place. We all accepted this sacrifice, said "Yes" to this offer of salvation and celebrated with each other. And that was all that really mattered. This is what church should look like.