When I tell the story of how I first became a Christian, I usually say that I didn't know that I wasn't a Christian until I became one. It sounds strange, but when you grow up in a culture that associates church attendance and a vague belief in God with Christianity, it makes a bit more sense. As a baby, I was baptized Lutheran and attended a Lutheran church until I was nine years old. To me, that made me a Christian. I didn't know any different until I was 21 years old.
I discovered the real meaning of being a Christian and made the choice for myself in October of 2000. Because I'd already considered myself a Christian previously, and everyone around me did the same, I didn't tell anybody that I had made an active decision to follow Christ. And as I began my new life, I continued to let everyone around me believe that things were as they had always been. I was attending an on campus Christian group at UNR and didn't have a church home yet. The on campus group talked a lot about evangelism, but not much about baptism of any kind. I had no idea that baptism was anything different than the sprinkling I had been given as a baby.
About a year after I'd made my decision for Christ, I was attending another conference and they told everyone to line up in one of several lines around the room. They had bowls of water where they had people to pray for us at each bowl. It is a vague memory of being sprinkled for a second time in my life.
The first time I heard of baptism as it is talked about in the Bible was a little while after that once I'd found a church home. I told myself that the sprinkling from the bowls was good enough because it had been a symbol of my adult choice. That even though they didn't specifically call it a baptism, it kind of was.
The longer I attended church, the more the subject came up. I could hear a little voice in my head telling me that I should do it, and then a louder voice - my mom's voice- came in and told me that I was already baptized Lutheran and that's what I would always be. Each time the church did a baptism at the Marina or at the river, I would go and celebrate with the people being baptized and each time my mom would say "You'd better not be getting baptized! You're a Lutheran!" I knew that I was a Christian,, that it was my choice, but I was terrified that my mom would love me less if I got baptized at my church. So I continued to tell myself that the sprinkling I'd experienced at a college conference was good enough.
After a few more years as a Christian, I'd developed the confidence to not worry so much about losing my mom's love and when the subject of baptism came up, the little voice telling me to do it was louder and my mom's voice was quieter. But by that point, I felt like it was too late - like if I did it I would just look like a fraud because I'd already been a Christian for so long without being properly baptized. I was afraid that everyone I knew would stop trusting me if I let them find out that I'd never been properly baptized. I felt like I'd been faking it for so long, that it had become reality.
Over the next several years, I continued to have the nagging feeling that I needed to go through with it, and the feeling only intensified after my mom passed away and her earthly feelings could no longer be hurt. But each time, I made excuses and told myself that the college sprinkling was good enough. I was too afraid of looking like a fool to go through with it. I put my pride in first place and Jesus in second place. I was so busy protecting my image, keeping up the façade, that I didn't even consider the fact that I was being disobedient.
Everything began to shift and change in September as I worked to fit in at a new church home. I was already having to set aside my fear and my pride to build new relationships in a new home. And as I began to feel more comfortable, and I watched a couple of baptisms in my new home, I saw through new eyes. I saw that when someone is baptized, there is no judgment regardless of the circumstance - there is only celebrating. There came a point when I knew in my heart that the next baptism opportunity that came up, I was going to do it. It was time to be stripped clean of my pride and to take a step of obedience. Today was that day. I won't deny that I spent the better part of a week beforehand beating myself up for not doing it sooner. And I won't deny that I was embarrassed because part of me was still worried about how I look to others. But despite all of that, I did what needed to be done and I was properly baptized today, over 12 years after I first accepted Christ.
I can't help but wonder what I may have missed out on in my walk with Jesus by waiting so long to take this particular step of obedience, but that is in the past, and I can only learn from it. And moving forward I will certainly be much quicker to act in obedience and much less likely to be held back by my pride. At least I pray that is the case.
