FROM J.P. HERES
I doubt we will soon forget what God did over the weekend. Nor should we fail to remember the simple truth that the Holy Spirit will build the church, often outside of our parameters and schedules. I hope each backward splash encouraged your soul that God is on the move. However, I would like to turn our attention to the cross.
As each person came on stage, whether stoic or weeping, they were met with the cross. To be honest, asking someone who ran down from the balcony to write a note of confession can be awkward. Why take the time to pause before the nailed boards when the pool is right there? It feels like a hiccup. Nonetheless, the most profound moments occur at the foot of this symbol of our faith.
I had the pleasure of praying with the very last weekend ‘baptizee.’ Nothing is worse than finishing a prayer to realize that the whole church is waiting on you, especially when you are running ops. I thought about bypassing the cross for the sake of time, but before I could, this woman had clutched a pen. She took her time, filled the whole note card, and tried twice to pin it to the cross with shaking hands. Finally securing it to a patch of exposed wood, we began a tear-filled walk towards the pool only to freeze a couple feet shy. She broke down as one of our volunteers took this weeping woman into a full, minute-long embrace. Looking back, I do not know if I will ever encounter someone with the same level of repentance.
This weekend we witnessed the baptisms of family and friends—some of whom we have been praying over for a long time. Yet, baptism is the outward expression of an inward change. More than guiding the mass of soaked individuals, running out of towels, or finishing service 45 minutes late, I will remember the paper-littered cross. Each note is a repentant heart and a transformed life. Friends, we proclaim the same power of the cross of Christ as Peter did two millennia ago—repent and be baptized.
