One of the great joys of my life is baptizing a baby. I squeeze their legs against my left elbow and hip and they are resting on my forearm. Their head is cradled in my left hand and I can see their face when I pour the water over their head. It is a chance to be the quintessential delivery system for pure grace. The plain water with the Word of God is water rich in mercy bestowing new life and forgiveness.
When we boil it down preachers are delivery boys. We deliver, as Paul says, what we received. It is grace upon grace.
I officiated at a baptism but since I can’t lift more than 10 lbs I couldn’t hold the baby. Style cramping it’s called.
My style has been cramped for a while now. I’m sure you feel the same, but a delivery boy that can’t lift is kind of sad.
I am trying to keep up with schedules and the Lenten Journey. This far a long in Lent and Christ still hasn’t taken his eyes off the prize in Jerusalem – the cross. By the cross he becomes the delivery boy of forgiveness and eventually he will deliver all things to the hands of his Father. (1 Corinthians 15:24).
