Baptism, Good Friday, and Resurrection Sunday…Or Why I was Baptized Twice

I was baptized twice. The second, because I wasn’t quite sure the first time stuck.

Baptism is an outward symbol of a new life in Christ. In Christianity, we “die” to ourselves and our former way of life when we are submerged in the water, and then are “raised” into new life when brought up. But real baptism is just a public symbol of a private change—the real death and new life must happen in the Spirit—meaning, a real change must take place in a persons inner most being that allows them to go from dead in their sins to alive in Christ, for anyone to be saved, regardless of whether a public water baptism takes place or not.

Jesus answered “Truly truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” John 3:5-6

If you have been born from a woman, as we all have, you have been born of the flesh. However, what we really need is to be born of the Spirit. Only God can make a person born in the Spirit. Imma preach for a second so just hold onto your hats. When we are born of the flesh, our Spirit is dead in its transgressions and sin thanks to the inheritance of sin nature. Our sin nature is the thing that causes us to sin—and to want to sin—and we all have it. The trick to repenting is in realizing this truth, namely how you sin is no better than how someone else sins. To realize that the person who has committed the most heinous, unforgivable sin you can think of is no more guilty than you, simply because the thing they have inside that compels them to sin is the same thing you have inside that compels you to sin. The actual sin committed is far less important, than the fact that we have a sin nature. The fact that sin exists in our lives at all, in any capacity, condemns us to death and an eternity in hell. We are powerless to save ourselves from this condition. And because we can’t save ourselves, we need a Savior. That Savior is Jesus, obviously.

“And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formally walked according to the course this world, according to the price of the power of the air (Satan), in the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formally lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.” Ephesians 2:1-3

Baptism is simply something we do to declare to the world “I have been enabled to realize my need for a Savior, repent of my sins, and surrender my life to Christ. As a result, my spirit has been born again and I have been saved, not by anything I’ve done, but by God’s great mercy and love. It is no longer I that live but Christ that lives in me! Hallelujah!”

Of course, this is my own (rather remarkable ;) translation, aided admittedly, at the end by the apostle Paul because he really does have some beneficial things to say here and there. (wink)

And so, Baptism is the symbol of going from death to life.

I’m belaboring this point not only because it’s Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday is coming, but because even though all this should be understood, I think sometimes people get baptized without truly understanding what baptism is. I know I did. I know people get baptized simply because they believe it’s the next step in their Christian journey. Or maybe because they have always had a relationship with God and they desire to tell the world they are a Christian. That’s why I got baptized.

The first time I was baptized was at Euzoa Bible Church. I was wearing a light yellow tank top with a black strapless bra which became embarrassingly apparent to all in attendance the moment I was pulled out of the water and into my new life in Christ wearing a see-through shirt, but I digress. I was twenty years old and didn’t know much—certainly not much about sin nature or repentance— but I really wanted to be God’s, and for Him to be mine. So I dedicated my life to him. That’s what I thought baptism was— a dedication of my life. In some ways it is that. In some ways it’s simply a profession of faith. But for me, the word “faith” is full of things to unpack and examine—what is true faith? Does it mean I am a changed person who no longer sins habitually? What is the fruit of real faith? I asked myself these questions a lot. Which is why, despite some good effort, I got baptized again one year later because my life didn’t look any different than the life I was living before, and because I didn’t feel like a changed or saved person on the inside, and was still doing things I didn’t think a saved or changed person would do, so I decided I’d better go in for round two. You know, just to have my bases covered.

This is a problem not just because it meant there was some part of me that believed baptism was the thing that could save/change me just by me deciding to partake of it, but also because I didn’t understand that baptism was supposed to outwardly symbolize an inward change, not bring on the inward change in and of itself. Although sometimes baptism is just someone saying I accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior, you know? I can hear you now—”let’s not make this harder than it needs to be, Krysta.” The thing is, making things hard, at least for myself, seems to be my specialty. Like the word “faith,” I’d wonder what “accept” truly meant. I’d wonder if I could accept Jesus wholly just because I wanted to, or if God would, at a certain point, enable me to accept since I was…how shall I put this? Having a hard time understanding if I had “accepted” Jesus just because I believed in Him. After all, even the demons believe and they are not saved. To me, and in retrospect I can understand it now, it always felt like there was a piece of acceptance (repentance?) I couldn't quite get to on my own no matter how hard I tried.

This poses a theological debate that (surprise!) I am not going to settle in this blog post, but suffice it to say that at this point in time, I fall into the camp that believes one cannot solely decide to choose Jesus and be saved—in other words, born in the Spirit—just because they woke up and decided to be. I believe God does the drawing and enables you to repent at the right time although I do think one’s choice and God’s sovereignty can align. I think a person can *desire* to choose Christ and *earnestly* dedicate their life to Him, as I did. I think you can pursue Him and pray and study the Bible in an effort to get to know Him and that THIS MATTERS but the fact of the matter is that even though I did all of this, I was not born of the Spirit in the timing I wanted or chose. Not when I was baptized the first or second time, not when I desperately prayed to know him on my knees in my kitchen a few years later, but only in His timing, which is to say much, much later, like, seventeen years after I first tried.

Was He using the time I wanted to be born again but wasn’t to draw me to Himself, in His way, in His perfect timing to accomplish His good and perfect will?

Yes, one hundred times yes. And it’s that cliche thing that people say, that only looking back can I see the sovereignty in His timing. Everything I encountered, worried about, tried and failed at, has served and equipped me to be able to serve those wrestling in that same space. All the women who don’t really know Jesus or the whole saving gospel truth, but identify as Christians anyway because they want to love Jesus and relinquish their lives to Him once and for all, but for whatever reason haven’t been able to.

Those women. They were me. All I know is that I wanted to be secure in God more than anything in my life and He saw fit to make me wait. I used to wonder if I’d be dead in my sins and transgressions forever. I’d wonder if “being born in the Spirit” was just some nice thing Christians talked about, but nobody was actually changed and so maybe I didn't need to worry so much.

If resurrection comes on Sunday, those seventeen years were my Saturday.

Dead and buried, not yet resurrected. Would it happen? Would He allow me to be raised with Him?

I don’t know if it’s super important to understand with crystal clarity what baptism is and isn’t prior to the event. I sure didn’t and God worked it for my good in His timing. We’re all jacked up but full of good intentions, every last one of us. But it is helpful to understand that the act itself won’t do anything without God’s saving power, and that it’s truly God’s saving power we seek. Spiritual baptism results in a regenerate life that is convicted of and repulsed by sin—no longer a slave to it. We must understand that coming face-to-face with the vileness of our nature, realizing we’ve been an enemy to God each time we chose sin and darkness over repentance of it—that is the horrifying holy ground upon which being born in the Spirit takes place. Death. Death is the ground we need in order to live.

“If anyone desires to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Matthew 16:25

The night before I was born in the spirit, I died one final death. I relinquished an idol—something I had put in place of Christ, to Christ—a thing I loved and cherished and clung to for safety and feeling okay about my world. I unclenched my fist from the thing I had made the center of my life—my biggest sin, unbeknownst to even me until that very night, when my eyes were graciously opened and I was able to repent of it. Repenting of it was scary, I remember. I was giving up something I loved, and didn’t know how to live without. I was only able to relinquish this Idol because I was convinced I could trust Him with it. By the grace of God I was finally convinced of His goodness and plan for my life. I was convinced that whatever comfort and security I had found in this idol, there would be something better for me, in Him, on the other side.

Life.

Resurrection Sunday was on the other side. It was always coming for me, in His time. I now know a joy much greater and peace much larger than that night I died to myself once and for all. It seems silly now, the thing I clung to all those years—I still love it—with almost all my heart I love it—because not everything we are asked to relinquish is inherently bad, only my elevation of it was—but I love Christ more. Hallelujah, I love Christ more. By the power of His spirit, I love Christ more.

Choosing to die with Christ in baptism is a choice you won’t regret even if nothing happens as a result right away. God draws you to Himself and will complete His work as you trust in Him.

On Good Friday Christ died. Saturday he was held in death until the appropriate time. On Sunday he was raised into new life, so he could offer it back to us.

My prayer is that if you haven’t yet died a final death, you would. For as painful as death can be, it is the birthplace of new life. I pray for those in the Saturday of their lives, dead and buried still—my people—that you would not lose hope or trust in our Lord, Jesus Christ who, if you put your implicit trust in Him, will surely raise you up to see Sunday, glorious Sunday in His perfect timing, according to His perfect will. And to those of you rejoicing in Sunday already, I look forward to the day when we will feast together in heaven (surely on charcuterie plates and wine from Italy and bread full of gluten) and for all of eternity, where the sweetness we taste now will be perfected and complete, our joy forever.

(I’m sorry if I sound like a disciple in that last paragraph. It’s just that I’ve been reading my Bible and only my Bible a lot, and so you know that thing that happens where you start to sound like whoever you’re reading? I think that happened because I am *earnest* in what I wrote and stand by it, but I have no idea where it came from except for all the 1 Peter and letters to the church swimming around in my head.)

Anyway, Amen. That’s my prayer.

It’s Friday. But a lot can happen in three days. Sunday always comes. Thank you, Lord.