Sprinkled and Dunked

This is probably one of my favorite hymns of all time, and like most of my favorite hymns, it is a redemption song. It's one of those "come on down to the altar and give your life to Jesus" songs.

Among the favorites:

Great is Thy Faithfulness
Jesus Paid It All
Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross
Abide With Me (not an altar call song, but a funeral one...equally great)
Just a Closer Walk with Thee
Higher Ground
Farther Along
It Is Well With My Soul
In the Garden
Have Thine Own Way
Open My Eyes, That I May See
Take My Life, Lead Me Lord
Old Rugged Cross


I'm only slightly exaggerating when I say that I have done the rounds of all the major denominations of Christianity (and been confirmed in two), but I've probably spent the most amount of time in the bosom of the Southern Baptist Church (a bosom from which I have long since self-weaned). It's always a bit of shock when I go to various Baptist functions with family or for students/friends, and I spend most of the time squirming uncomfortably in the pew trying not to look offended. Until they start playing the music, that is. And then I remember that this is my spiritual groundswell. I remember that as a ten-year-old, I walked into my pastor's office and told him that I was ready to accept Jesus into my heart. I wrote a heart-felt testimony and my father read it tearfully at the altar as I waded into the fake river in a white robe and purple swim suit. And because the music meant so much to me even then, My mother and I recorded "I Have Decided To Follow Jesus" in the balcony of the church to be played while I was dunked. I would love to get my hands on that tape.

Recently, we went back to our old Church in Clemson to listen to the wonderful Roger Lovette (most sensible, poetic, liberal-minded Southern Baptist in existence) who had come back to town and out of retirement from Alabama for some anniversary or another. And, by God, if he didn't make me cry. Truth be told, I was in a bit of an emotional pickle. This was only shortly after I came back to South Carolina after my NYC fiasco. I just sat there and sobbed. Roger Lovett isn't as slick as most Baptist preachers, but he knows how to wrap your heart around a story and make it feel like he's just talking to you and no one else. And to top it off, just to make sure I knew my place, we sang "Just as I Am, Without One Plea" and I had I not had some iota of self-dignity, I would have stumbled to the altar right then and there. There I was, wretched and broken and wounded of spirit. And there it was, such easy forgiveness. Thankfully, I stayed in my seat and sang the damn song.

I'm not embarrassed by my faith, if that is what one can call it in its current form. It's real and not fabricated so I don't feel the need to apologize. Maybe it is just self-delusion, but it doesn't feel like it. I could never in good faith go back to any of the churches that sprinkled my childhood and profess to believe what they were selling. The God of my childhood has been unmasked and there isn't really a return to that, though I have to believe that there is a future for my faith. I've searched for many years for a spiritual community that rests easy in both mind and heart with little luck so far. I miss the storytellers and mesmerizers of my childhood, just as I miss their easy answers and security. Liberal Christianity seems cold and sterile, but I suspect I just haven't found the right place yet. It's a problematic place to be.