I have had for the longest time a big problem with baptism. That problem was not baptismal efficacy or trying to figure what baptism represented. Baptism has no absolute power to save me, but it is symbolic of death and resurrection, those being of Christ. It does have objective meaning--I or anyone become a member of The Church of believers and The Covenant with God upon the completion.

My problem was... I saw no need for symbolism. For me, since baptism has no absolute efficacy, then it need not be done, and no one does do it for this reason anyway. As for its objectivity, well, I just never really gave it much thought, but after much reading, I see its objectivity very much worth thinking about. But the big hang-up for me, was the symbolism. I am in many ways a product of my generation: 1) pragmatic, 2) technically oriented, with no artistic orientation, 3) shallow, etc. If baptism was only symbolic of something, and didn't really accomplish anything, then why do it? And the only thing that really needed to be accomplished for me and for anyone was salvation, and since baptism does not save me, there is, once again, no need for it.

And even now, I still have some questions. Given the objectivity of baptism, doesn't salvation automatically make me a part of The Church of believers, and automatically bring me into The Covenant with God? So, if salvation itself accomplishes these, then why do we need baptism? And why did Christ not send Paul to baptize (1 Corinthians 1:17), if it is so important?

I'm still working through the issue, but I've come much further in understanding baptism.

I have been thinking about the Cross (more Easter than Christmas, but what's one without the other) and beauty. Is God and everything He does beautiful? I would answer that question with a resounding YES! But that has some interesting, if not disturbing consequences.

It provides for The Cross, in particular, a unique and not often (at least I've never heard it put this way) articulated scene. A scene of beauty. Amidst all the blood, suffering, and sacrifice there's beauty. A terrifying beauty. That Jesus hanging on The Cross is beautiful is almost too much for me to comprehend. But consider the alternative: is it a scene to be disgusted of? Should I turn my head, and be revolted, and say, "Poor fellow."? While the scene is graphic and violent, especially for our warm and fuzzy Christian subculture, it is beautiful. For there at that Cross, I must do the horror of all horrors, and go and let His blood drip on me, so that I might be washed by His beautiful blood.

When I started teaching myself Greek, I thought that I was approaching the end of the journey that would culminate in endless treasures of Scriptural insights, and it indeed will do so, but the journey has only just begun. There is still Hebrew to learn, and Aramaic, and hermemeutics, history, typology, and on and on. The journey will never truly end, for who can plumb the depths of all that Scripture has to offer, and even this is only a foretaste of what's to come! The endless goldmine of treasure and knowledge and wisdom are contained therein. There is so much to learn, and so little time to learn it in. Ahh, but how glorious the road will be, and how much more glorious, its end when I am called home and will see face-to-face.

I haven't blogged in awhile because I've been spending much of my evenings at play practice. Our church is doing Scrooge this Christmas. My wife is in the play, as well as my fathger-in-law, and my brother-in-law's wife is in the play, also. The performances are this Friday-Sunday at 7pm. It will be good when it's all over.