In December my wife
and I attended a Christmas party for Baptist clergy and spouses at Camp
Sentinel in Tuftonboro. We were sitting around the roughhewn wooden tables
munching on Christmas fare and getting to know each other better.
A pastor from Wolfeboro asked where I was from. I said I was
originally from Danvers, Massachusetts. Because this was a Baptist gathering, I
added that I was baptized as an adult at the First Baptist Church in
Danversport.
Another minister at the table replied, “Me, too!” It was
John Babson, a minister serving as a chaplain in the Lakes Region. I had gotten
to know him recently, and I had even invited to preach in Sandwich on the
Sunday before Thanksgiving.
We began to compare the details of our baptisms. We were not
only baptized at the same church, we were also baptized by the same pastor, in
the same location, in the same year! It turns out that we were baptized at the
same time! Two people were immersed in the Danvers River on that July day in
1973 – he and I.
He recalled more details of the occasion than I could. He
remembered me as a large, bearded young man with long hair. (It was the
seventies, after all.) He said when I came up from the water I “looked just
like Jesus.” My memories of him were vaguer, but I recall another man about my
age being baptized that day.
Here we were forty years later, both Baptist ministers
serving in the same area. Someone at the table commented on the chances that two
young men baptized in a small church at the same time would become ministers.
Even more unlikely is the fact that we are still in active ministry
after all these years. Most ministers don’t last that long. Statistics show
that 60% to 80% of those who enter the ministry will not still be in it 10
years later, and only a fraction will stay in it as a lifetime career.
This providential encounter at a Christmas party has made me
think back on my baptism. I was meditating on it during a worship service
recently while we were on vacation in the Florida Keys. The gospel lesson for
the day was on the baptism of Jesus.
As the preacher preached, my mind drifted. (I am sure that
does not happen to anyone listening to my sermons!) In my imagination I
returned to my own baptism. It was the turning point of my life. John Babson said
I reminded him of Jesus emerging from the baptismal waters. I don’t know about
that, but I know Christ was present at that beach.
With summer sunbathers watching, two young men professed
their faith in Jesus Christ and were immersed at a public beach. Spectators likely
thought it was a curious sight, but they have long forgotten it. We have not
forgotten. We are still disciples of Jesus and ministers of Christ after all
those years.
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