My heart beats quickly from where I stand before the congregation. I try to focus on what Reverend Matthews is saying. “The candidates for Holy Baptism will now be presented.”

By some strange trick of my mind, the people in the pews disappear, and all I can see is the grey, stone, baptismal font filled with water. Reverend Matthews stands right next to it, a friendly look on his all-american face.

“I present Leigh to receive the sacrament of Baptism,” my husband says from beside me.

“Do you desire to be baptized?” Reverend Matthews asks me.

“I do,” I reply. I have not said these words in a religious context since my wedding day three years earlier. It is May 15, 2005. Pentecost. The day the Holy Spirit bestowed His gifts upon the apostles. Gifts so transformative, that Jesus’ followers, who feared their enemies and were despondent after the crucifixion, suddenly began to openly proclaim the gospel. His followers were profoundly altered by seeing the risen Christ, and by the Holy Spirit. I do not know whether Jesus came to his disciples in spirit or bodily form - this is a question I turn over and over in my mind. Ultimately, I think it is less important what form Jesus took and more important how his presence inspired his adherents. I partially grasp his renewing power myself - it is what brings me to the baptismal waters.

I hold my hair back as Reverend Matthews uses a seashell to pour water on me. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.” He places one hand on my shoulder. With anointing oil, his free hand traces a cross on my forehead. I close my eyes as his words float over me, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. Amen.”

These words reverberate through me, burrowing deeply enough that they often surface even now. “Christ’s own forever.” This is the gift. To be transformed by Christ’s love, and be a conduit of that love for other people. My beliefs about Christ’s redemption are best summed up by Father Richard Rohr. “I am a strong proponent of the Franciscan understanding of the redemption . . . Jesus did not have to die to make God love us, he was paying no debt, he was changing no Divine mind. Jesus was only given to change our mind about the nature of God! (Imagine what we are saying about the Father, if he needed blood from his son to decide to love us! It is an incoherent world with no organic union between Creator and creature. No wonder so few Christians have gone on the mystical path of love, since God is basically untrustworthy and more than a little dangerous.). . . [Jesus] was not "necessary," but a pure gift. The suffering was simply to open our hearts, not to open God's - which was always open.”*

Perhaps the love, grace, and mercy parts sound easy, so easy that you think, “How simple it is to be Christian.” But this is the conundrum. To be Christian is not effortless. Karen Armstrong says, “Religion is hard work. It's an art form. It's a way of finding meaning, like art, like painting, like poetry, in a world that is violent and cruel and often seems meaningless. And art is hard work. You don't just dash off a painting. It takes years of study. I think we expect religious knowledge to be instant. But religious knowledge comes incrementally and slowly.”** My faith is one of continual questioning. I am always peeling away layers to find a Christianity far more complex than I ever imagined possible.

Jesus asks, “Who do you say I am?” (Matthew 16:15). For me, Jesus was human and is divine. He understood God in a way that most are not privy to. He believed that in weakness there is strength, that love heals, that God wants His extreme grace to move us beyond self-centeredness into magnanimity.

Brian McLaren puts it this way, “It's not just a message about what happens to our immaterial souls after we die, but it's the message of God's saving within creation; God's will being done on earth. It's working with God here and now. It means that the person who's a taxi-driver, the person who's a schoolteacher, or a politician or a lawyer or a nurse or an artist or an athlete, or whatever it is that someone does, their work can actually contribute to God's will being done on earth as it is in heaven.”***


I think of Mary Magdalene, who was tormented by seven demons and came from a town that was thought to be unclean. My interpretation is that her possession and defilement are symbolic of a deeply troubled, hopeless Mary. Somehow, she crossed paths with Jesus. And she was never the same. She was so utterly changed that she became a devout follower. Jesus helped Mary Magdalene open herself to God’s love and through her surrender she was transfigured. Her divine understanding allowed her to see Jesus resurrected; to see him in a way no other disciple could. She brought her vision of Christ to the other disciples. Important elements of Christianity lie in what she revealed about Jesus and God.

I know something of this spiritual metamorphosis. For me, being Christian means giving up the religion of my ancestors and most of what I know to answer a persistent call. Once I reveal even remote interest, Jesus stands just beyond the door, periodically knocking. He waits four years for my answer. “If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.” (Revelation 3:20) When I finally invite him in, I am grateful to be included in the meal we share. “Take, eat, this is my body. This is my blood . . .”

I am Christ’s own forever.

*http://www.cacradicalgrace.org/getconnected/passion.html
** From Salon.com “Going Beyond God.” May 30, 2006.
***http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god_article.php?id=7108