Leadership in humility: the baptism of an old man
I recently attended a baptism. The ceremony borrows from an ancient tradition and is generally intended to symbolize cleanliness or newness. Some form of physical washing to symbolize spiritual cleanliness has existed across millennia, cultures and religious traditions. Western thinkers adopted this ceremony and ascribed processes and rules against its innocence.
In modern Christianity, baptism is, as one pastor puts it, ‘a minor that’s become a major.’ One camp baptizes children as a symbol of protection and blessing while another camp baptizes after ‘believing’ as a symbol of new life. Theological implications (and arguments) aside, the data suggests that baptisms generally happen with the young (to be clear, I can’t find a definitive source of data, so I’m deducing from this as a proxy for those subscribing to ‘believers baptism’. Infant baptism, by definition, occurs with the young).
As such, seeing a middle-aged man baptized is a relatively rare occurrence for me. As a child, I remember watching a man baptized who was well north of 65. For a man of his age to materially change his perspective on life is notable. For him to do so publicly is extraordinary. I knew this man as an elder in the community who had a dry, biting sense of humor. He also had a softer, warm-hearted grandfatherly side we saw as kids. As this man’s story was told the day of his baptism, he entered the water and emerged to bear hug the pastor. His faith was evident, precisely because it cost him so much. He had to admit 65 years of a different perspective. He acknowledged a regret of not knowing freedom sooner. But here he was, starting anew at 65. Mr. Jones died years ago, yet the image of the old man hugging the pastor as if he’d been given new life stands with me. Precisely because Mr. Jones was given new life.
Recently, a friend of mine, Tripp, was baptized. A long-time believer, Tripp leads men in the process of knowing the Father more deeply. While his faith was seasoned and tested, he had never been baptized because of the tradition in which he was raised. As he began discussions with his own children, he felt disobedient to Scripture’s command to be baptized. So, in concert with his church, he invited friends and family to join him at the altar. As the pastor read a prepared statement of Tripp’s testimony, friends gathered around to show support and to stand with him and to attest to his faith and our commitment to him. He was immersed in the water to be pulled out in a symbol of new life. Unlike Mr. Jones, Tripp’s faith and walk did not change for Tripp. The water did nothing magical, yet his obedience brought him in greater alignment with the Father.
But things did change. They changed for me as I watched a man I love and respect humble himself before God and others to provide a clear testament of his faith. Things changed for my children as they got to know Mr. Tripp differently, hearing his story. The kids asked questions about the ceremony and why it occurred and why now and if Mr. Tripp already knew Jesus, then why did he have to do that. Things changed for his family as they stood in support of their son and brother, while likely wondering why there was much ado about a process they had performed on his behalf forty years earlier.
This is why baptism is necessary — it changes things. It doesn’t change God or our salvation, but it changes the people watching. Tripp grew taller as he knelt before the King. I grew bigger as I stood there, arm in arm with men of our tribe, giving my testament to my God and my friend.
Thanks for the humility, Tripp. Thanks for leading my children well. Thanks for answering their questions and showing them the Father.