Baptise my baby - NOW!

One of the interesting things about being a Dog Collar is the baptism service.

I like to do ours in the Sunday morning service wherever possible. Use a font of an inflatable pool add water and baptismal candidate and I think we've got something that causes the Church to celebrate and heaven to rejoice! Of course this means that I believe that infant baptism is an O.K. thing, but hey - if the early Church did it I don't have a problem (well now I've studied it a bit I don't have so much of a problem) with it. I do of course have a problem with those anabaptists who, as I understand it, by re-baptising enact something that theologically and spiritually has no meaning and even denies the baptism done in the name of the Trinity (but that's for another day).

I just love the people what knows their rights and want their baby baptised when, where and how they want and this week I've had the chance to love it twice! here's an account of the first one - I'll tell you the other later (if time permits).

It's a paperwork morning and I get a knock at the door and so, being polite, I open it to find a lady who before I can even utter a salutation opens the volley with, "Are yo the Vikar!" I reply in the affirmative. "Yo don't look like a vicar, yo look more like a bouncer!"

"It's a tough church, the services sometimes get a bit . . " but before I can finish, the initiative having being firmly and most assuredly taken away from me my visitor interrupts with,"I want our grandchild christened."

"Not a problem," I respond smiling and trying to remember page 32. of the 'How to be a nice Vicar and welcome people' manual, "We can do it any Sunday morning during the 10:30 service, all we need to do is . . . "

"Ohh, we don't want it here," cuts in my assailant, adding the vocal components of the sneer that remains before me. "We want it in the proper church in town. I've just come for their telephone number!"

"Of course, not a problem, " I respond airily trying hard to remain smiling in my new 118 118 role, "Wait here please."

I return with a card, the back of which bears the telephone number of the church office of her chosen 'proper church'. "They'll help you out I'm sure," I say brightly before adding in a slightly more serious tone, "You realise of course that you'll need to bring a young lamb with you for the sacrifice during the service." She stops in her tracks and turns back at me, eyes wide open!

"What?" says she. "No, only joking," I say smiling broadly, "You can take a young goat if you can't get a sheep!"

I shut the door and the sun shines - paperwork suddenly takes on a new light - thank you we're not proper church - Praise the Lord!

V