Baptism

Entiat Federated Church.  This beautiful little building stamped my life with two passions, love for mid-century modern design and a fascination with the carpenters' trade.


Built the first year our family lived in Entiat, every day of construction us kids were all over that place like monkey bars down at the schoolyard. Almost magic.  Transform a few piles of lumber into something of enduring value.

Federated meant that some of the congregation were Presbyterians, others were Disciples of Christ. Our family had been Nazerine up to this point so we had some adjustments to make getting used to the new traditions.  From a sixth grader's perspective, similarities between the three sects outweighed differences. Different words here and there that described the same things, debts instead of trespasses in the Lord's prayer - may have been the other way around - and calling the house the church provided for our family a manse instead of the parsonage. Otherwise, same Bible stories and it's just dad up in the pulpit every Sunday preaching the same kind of sermons.

How does he think up all that stuff to say every week anyway? Sure hope the Lord never calls my name, scare the bejesus out of me getting up to talk like that in front of everyone. Didn't realize until recently that the preaching and prayers were the easy part of that job.

One doctrinal difference did give dad a bit of a turn. Sacrament of baptism.  Disciples of Christ want to be totally emersed in a pool of water, Dad came out of the tradition in which a light touch to the forehead with fingers dampened in a ritual font is sufficient.  He never dunked anyone before.

Upstage center, at the base of the sandstone wall and lit by two columns of east-facing windows, the new sanctuary featured a four by six-foot cement pool, maybe three feet deep, steps leading down into the water from behind a wing wall opposite the windows.  In the weeks leading up to the new building's completion, two or three people came forward asking to be baptized in the new pool on opening day.

In addition to figuring out stage directions and wardrobe changes, dad had to get Justin and me in the pool ahead of time to practice his moves. Tip someone backward until their face goes completely under.  Water up the nose big time seems to me but I probably got that part of the memory wrong.

Contractors not yet out of the building, early evening Saturday before the big day when dad filled the pool, the three of us in bathing suits, starting down the steps into the water.  Happy to help, Justin and I had been looking forward to playing in that pool for a long time.

Fun ended with the first step into the water. Pulled our feet back, something doesn't feel quite right. Put the hands in, sort of tingly, not so strong but definitely an ELECTRIC SHOCK!!!  Barely perceptible, but until it got fixed the pool couldn't be used.  Did I say opening day tomorrow?  The old man must have been sweating bullets.

Shouting back and forth between the pool and breaker panel dad managed to isolate the bad circuit without shutting down power to the whole building.  We had our rehearsal and the service the next day came off without a hitch. Even now I can almost see the look on the old man's face, his first time tipping a somewhat plump lady in a colorful mu-mu and bathing cap back into the River Jorden.

A favorite family story over the years, who could resist adding this little twist to the scenario in the retelling:  Keep the electric short under our hats.  When the time came for the baptism, I would be casually standing at the back with the ushers, Justin down the other end of the hall at the breaker panel. Moment the waters close over a supplicant's face give the high sign, Justin touches the switch closed for half a heartbeat.