Today is a special day for my little family. Our T-Rexy (aka Brooksie) is being baptized in a quiet backyard ceremony at my mother in law’s house this evening.
On Monday I will be posting the words I'm planning to read at Brooksie’s baptism tonight. (That post may also answer any questions you might have about my theology and why this Southern Baptist raised thing would practice infant baptism.)
But, today, a poem I LOVE (by Franz Wright, whose work I also love) about baptism. In fact, that’s its name.
By Franz Wright
That insane asshole is dead I drowned him and he’s not coming back. Look he has a new life a new name now which no one knows except the one who gave it.
If he tastes the wine now as he is allowed to it won’t, I’m not saying it will turn to water
however, since You can do anything, he will be safe
his first breath as an infant past the waters of birth and his soul’s past the death waters, married—
Your words are spirit and life. Only say one and he will be healed.
"Baptism," Franz Wright, Walking to Martha's Vineyard (New York, NY: Knopf, 1992), 44-45