Just as I am, without one plea
Just as I am, without one plea!
Wasn’t sure the day would ever arrive. I had been preparing juveniles for baptism for over three months. When the conversation started, an inflatable pool of water would have been refreshing, a cool dip on an Indian summer day. When the day finally arrived, the ambient temperature was 50. The breeze was stiff. The occasional mop bucket of 160 degree water from the prison’s indoor plumbing would hardly put a dent in the frigid water coming from the outside tap. Circumstances, as providence would have it, were such that this day, this baptism, would be unforgettable!
Like the day itself, the process of getting there was full of surprises. Not that you can say any preparation for a large class is ordinary or “the usual.” A host of mundane things and one industrial accident had taken a toll and delayed the endeavor. Some of the boys gave up. They looked at me like their proverbial father forever saying, I am going to buy you that pair of Jordans. “Sure, Pastor.” The class started with over 25. After delays the net was 17.
Among the 17 were a variety of boys with varied interests in baptism. No one was playing. After all, I told them again and again, God will not be mocked. Just the same, there were a handful of particularly serious and sober-minded boys. Sober is a thing in Juvie. Many haven’t been sober in a while when they enter. You might say, “John, these are early teenagers. Really?” True enough. Few have been drunk yet. However, some have toyed with lean. Lean is prescription grade cough syrup mixed with soda and some hard candy. If you are from way back like me, you will appreciate this. Lean makes Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill and MD 20/20 seem like real wine, even an aged red. Rarely had they been drunk and one can see why. But high? That’s another matter. Stoned? You bet! Often. For some, daily.
I would like to think I am not naïve. Like everyone who reaches 20, I was a teenager for 7 years. And I was an undergraduate at the University of Alabama. Partying was normal. Hell raising? Cannot say it was rare. Lacked vision in the day so restraints were few. Having said that, a world that begins with two or three grams of weed before one gets out of bed in the morning is foreign to me. Many, maybe most, of these boys, smoke weed like my teenage peers drank sweet tea. And they haven’t yet lived half their teenage years.
By the time baptism rolled around, those that smoked, a little or a lot, had been sober for months. They were acutely aware of the seriousness of baptism. To add gravity to the mix, some were facing long sentences. Three boys backed out on more than one occasion. One thought about backing out “day of.”
Of those three, two were facing life in prison. Can God really love someone facing those years? Could they possibly meet expectations? The other was facing 15 years. The latter was blessed. Not long before the baptism, he accepted a plea. Teachers and coaches were in court that day. I was there with them. I listened attentively. They lauded this kid’s character. Solid student. Leader. Athlete. Went out of his way to make the Johnny Come Lately (still love the Eagles) feel at home. He was like most of these kids in my eyes. I can see them playing with my boys in the backyard down by the creek.
But he hit a wall. When things go south, they go fast and deep. Just like Adam and Eve hiding from God. Things instantly got exponentially worse. Next story up? Cain kills his blood brother Abel. Being bullied had given him a hair trigger. He is small. There was not much “dog in the fight.” But he was going to show for all the world to see the “fight in the dog.” He lashed out. In street language, he crashed out.
Fortunately, no one was killed or seriously maimed. I listened intently as the victim described his injuries. Not insignificant. And yet he said plainly, “the boy deserves another chance.” The victim had concluded he and the perp were more alike than they were different. Blessed indeed. His “fight” cost him just one year.
The other two had more complicated cases. Death was involved. As in so many cases, intent seemed notably absent. Certainly no one imagined several lives, one literally and others metaphorically, being snuffed out. Something went wrong. Disputes that, in another time, might have ended with fists now ended with firearms. In this age you need more than a dentist; too often, horrifically, you need an embalmer.
One was anxious a couple of days before the baptism. He slipped me a note. He was still all in. But he wanted to be assured of God’s forgiveness. His first plea offer was life with the possibility of parole. Possibility. Tough place to stand if you are sixteen. That was for the charges known. But I guessed his sins were many and unknown to most. At some point he probably wondered if he would ever see the light of freedom again. My read is he stayed with Hope. He turned to the only help available to him. He stayed with the one who came among us full of grace and truth. Truth was harsh. Grace made it bearable. Absolution arrived.
The day came. Seventeen boys were all in including the three that waivered. They understood well the implications. They knew this was no “get of jail free” card. They knew it was not likely at all to improve even remotely their standing with the State of Georgia. They knew the life to which they ascribed would be demanding. They accepted they would fail at times. They accepted that when that day came they were to allow God to pick them up and dust them off and they were to resume the long obedience in the same direction.
17 times boys entered the frigid water. 17 times. “_______, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” 17 times. “________, you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” 17 times. The boys stood at a crossroad and made the ultimate plea.
And God said?
Got it. Done. “It is finished.”
Social Networks:
