Holy Water

There are things that I know are there and, yet, sometimes I forget and find myself surprised to find them.  Such a moment came the other afternoon as I entered the local Episcopal Church for a memorial service. Right there just outside the front door of the sanctuary was the baptismal font.  Unlike some I have seen in many churches of my own denomination, it was filled with water.  The baptismal font was not stuck over in some obscure corner where its empty contents could not be seen.  It was a moment I knew what to do.  It was a moment in which I knew what I wanted to do, but I hesitated since no one else was doing what I wanted to do and I was, after all, not an Episcopalian.  

Finally, I put aside any reason for not doing what I wanted to do and did it.  I put my fingers in that holy water and using my wet fingers, I marked my forehead with the sign of the cross.  Even though my wife could have done the same thing, I asked if I could touch the waters and mark her forehead as I had mine.  What a holy moment fell upon us both!  Actually, the font filled with water was placed at the door of the sanctuary for just such a purpose.  Baptism is that ritual of our choosing to be set apart for the work of the Kingdom of God.  It is something good to remember as we come for worship.

The waters which touch us may dry, but I have always allowed myself to believe that once baptized we are spiritually marked in an indelible way as one who belongs to Christ.  Those of us who are afraid of our worship becoming too formal and structured need to let loose of our fears and allow ourselves to experience the hidden mystery in rituals and practices that have blessed so many through the centuries.  A little extra water will never hurt us.   Instead, it may have healing power for the nurturing of our souls.