Baptizing Boston

I don’t know how many people I’ve baptized over the years. I haven’t kept count. But there are some that remain embedded in my memory. I remember the first person I baptized in the Christian Church in White City, Kansas as a student pastor. When the portly elderly lady stepped into the baptistery I was concerned about her age and determined to get her dunked and up out of the water again as quickly as possible. I dunked her so quickly that I failed to get her all the way under. The crown of her forehead remained dry. For a second I panicked. “Does that count?” I wondered. No one knew but me and God, so I decided that was good enough. No way I was going to dunk her again for good measure.

Baptizing teens at the HEB Foundation Camp in the Frio River was always an adventure. Once I slipped on the mossy stone-bottom and baptized myself just before baptizing a student. It was a challenge to find a convenient place in the river shallow enough to wade in from the bank, yet deep enough to immerse the baptismal candidate. One year I had a couple of high school boys paddle a young girl out to a shallow place in a canoe. Amanda had long wavy auburn hair and looked like Pocahontas riding in the canoe. Climbing out of a canoe in the middle of a river is tricky, but she made it, and I baptized her there in the Frio.

When my daughter called me to tell me that her son, my grandson, was going to be baptized that coming Sunday, Feb 2, I was determined to be there. My youth pastor agreed to preach for me and my wife I made plans for the week-end trip to Fort Worth. My mom accompanied us to see her great grandson’s baptism. The first thing my daughter said to me when we walked in the door of her home was, “Will you baptize Boston?”

“Well… I don’t know,” I replied, “I didn’t come prepared with the right clothes and… ABSOLUTELY I will baptize my grandson!”

We enjoyed a relaxing Saturday evening and got up early Sunday to go to church. Boston will be 13 in May. No one pushed him or even urged him to be baptized. He had thought through this all on his own and was eager to make his stand for Christ. Deacons met us at the church and ushered the entire family up the back steps to the dressing rooms adjacent to the baptistery. Boston and I went into the dressing room to change while the family waited. The church had a pair of loaner shorts and a t-shirt for me. I prayed with Boston and we talked about the meaning of baptism. He was focused and serious. A couple of Boston’s best friends had arrived outside the dressing room and his dad’s side of the family. We took a lot of pictures. Then it was time.

The baptistery at their church is elevated 20 feet or more above the sanctuary pulpit. There was a standing room area behind the baptistery for the family. Boston and I stepped into the warm water and made our way to the center of the baptistery and looked out over a large congregation staring up at us. I introduced Boston and myself and choked on the words, “This is my first grandchild to baptize.” I asked Boston the question: “Do you believe with all your heart that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and do you receive him as your Savior, the forgiver of your sins, and your Lord, the Leader of your life?” Boston answered, “Yes.”

“Boston Cade McIntire, because of your confession of faith in Jesus Christ, I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit.”

Then I dunked him all the way under, even the crown of his forehead got wet. In one motion I brought him up out of the water and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. I felt a deep sense of joy in that moment. Baptism is Boston’s promise to follow Christ, to live a life worthy of the gospel. Baptism is God’s promise to always forgive, always be with him, always love him. Boston, like the rest of us, will struggle at times to live up to his promise. God will keep his part of the covenant perfectly and forever. Boston will probably wrestle with doubts at various times in his faith walk. God will never doubt Boston’s salvation, his place in the Kingdom.

Baptizing Boston was one of the most moving moments of my life. It was an answer to a daily prayer that Psalm 102:28 would become a reality for me and my family. The psalmist writes, “The children of your servants will live in your presence; their descendants will be established before you.” Psalm 102:28 (NIV)
At 57 years old I’m thinking more and more about what I will leave behind when I leave this world. When my children & grandchildren lay me in the grave I pray they will do so with faith, hope, and love in Christ. I pray my faith will live on in them. I pray they will walk before the Lord with integrity and that the generations to follow will do the same. Boston’s baptism is confirmation that God hears my prayer. Every baptism is confirmation that God hears our prayers… the prayers that count the most.