Phillips: Baptism

Last Sunday morning there were six or seven or eight baptisms at church. Really neat. Later that day, I was visiting with Mick, my brother in Nebraska, about the service, and Mick mentioned a baptism service the church in Arthur, Nebraska, had last summer. It’s officially a Baptism church, but since it’s the only church in Arthur and in a 40-mile radius, all denominations attend there. The church in Arthur has a baptistery, but instead of using it they decided to drive about 30 miles south to Lake McConaughy and have baptisms in the big sandy bottom lake. Mick said they waded out about chest high. Then after the baptisms, they had a bonfire on the beach and a hot dog roast and cookout. Neat service from the way Mick described it. Wish I’d been there.

I started to pastor in Scott City in 1986 when we moved here from Wilmore, Kentucky, where I had been attending school. We had been pastoring here in Scott City for about a year when several wanted to be baptized, so we filled the baptistery and set up the church. I’d been baptized as a baby, but I wanted to be dunked, so I asked an old friend of mine, the Rev. Bill Dickey, if he would baptize me. The Rev. R.C. Stephens was also in our congregation, and I’d have had him help, as well but he couldn’t get around real good. So after I’d baptized several in our congregation Rev Dickey baptized me. I’ve thought back on that moment many times wondering if it was special to him. It was to me! “Bill” helped a new preacher who was still wet behind the ears learn more about being a pastor.

I had a real good friend wonder if I could baptize him somewhere around Sam A. Baker State Park. We talked and decided to meet at the bridge over the St. Francis River on a certain date. Turns out the water was really high and flooded way beyond its banks. He was a good swimmer, so no problem for him, but since I can’t swim a lick, I wore my life jacket. We waded out about chest high, and I proceeded to baptized him. It was kind of fun to be honest. He called the next morning and said he had chiggers from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. The flooded waters must have swept all the chiggers on the banks and grass and trees into the water. He was miserable for several days. Chiggers have never bothered me, so I never had a bite. I wonder if all the garlic I eat makes the chiggers turn up their noses at me.

I had an older gentleman want to baptized, which I was tickled he asked. He had tuberculosis earlier in life, and he only had part of one lung so we had to be careful. The weather was cool, so we decided to sprinkle him rather than dunk him in water, but he made me understand that later on he wanted to be dunked in a lake or stream. When it warmed up, we met at Lake Girardeau, we waded down the boat ramp with me wearing my life jacket and dunked Lester right there. I’ll never forget that. Lester was a prince of a guy. Most preachers stretch the truth a little when delivering a funeral message, usually telling good stories and neglecting the rough ones. Lester told me to tell the truth when I preached his funeral, and I did.

Probably the most enjoyable baptisms I’ve ever done were up at Sam A. Baker State Park. The Wesleyan Church had several acres up close to the Park, and we’d have youth camp there for at least two weeks a year. Over the weekend, adults were invited to come to the service, and we usually followed the worship with a baptism service in the stream running through the park. I’d wade out in the stream wearing my life jacket, and we might baptize 20 to 30 kids and adults. Sing a few songs and just have a blast.

Memories are so precious.

Phillips began life as a cowboy, then husband and father, carpenter, a minister, gardener and writer. He may be reached at phillipsrb@hotmail.com