Sacramental Children

This weekend I had the pleasure of seeing two children participate in sacraments in ways that really show what theology means. On Friday I had the honor of baptizing a two-month old in the bell of one of my ships. This is a long Navy tradition and the baptism on Friday was the 6th in the short history of the USS Kidd. When his father handed him over to me, a complete stranger, he was upset and began to cry which is significant because every day we don't want to leave our comfort to follow Christ. The call on our lives is difficult and I think that deep down, when we baptize infants they understand what is happening in a way adults just tend to blow off. That water on their heads is shocking and causes many to cry out much like a two-month old did on Friday. I think that they also know that some people made a difficult promise on their behalf and they are none too happy about that. But something else happened on Friday. An infant accepted the water and calmed down as I walked him around to see his new family. He found a new comfort on the other side of discomfort, a lesson we could all learn from this particular child.

And this particular sacrament has meant something to a number of people as the photo below, taken by my fellow DESRON Chaplain is probably the most commented on photo I have ever posted on Facebook. It is a moment that many others have wanted to participate in from afar:

As if that wasn't a significant object lesson, on Sunday I saw something I have never seen nor imagined. The church I attended shared communion and they participate in a manner I haven't seen elsewhere in that they pass two plastic cups stacked together. The bread in the bottom cup and juice in the top cup. Well, as they were passing out the elements they missed a 4 year old girl and her father who were sitting in the pew in front of me. The first time an elder walked by the pew, the girl started to feverishly look around wondering when they were going to serve her and her father. As a second elder passed near she locked her eyes on him like tractor beams and was doing her best to will him to see her and serve them the elements. Unfortunately, he too passed the little girl and her father without skipping a beat.

Then, she burst into tears. It took me a second to realize that she was crying because they forgot to serve her communion. A four year old who was so distraught at the possibility of not partaking in communion that she was crying. How many adults view the importance of communion in such a manner that we will make a scene if we can't partake? Do we view it as something of significance rather than just a part of worship to get through quickly to get to lunch or home to watch the game? I have to admit, in that moment I felt wholly unworthy to partake. So I did what anyone should do when a four year old is schooling you in theology. I leaned forward and gave her the elements I had received. She wanted and needed it more than me. And through her I participated in one of the more memorable and truest communion meal I have ever had the privilege of partaking in.