Today we will have the great privilege of baptizing David Wagner. Now, David has an advantage, I think, over many of us. He’s a teenager, a high school student. He’s going to remember this day for the rest of his life. (At least, he better!)

Many of us were baptized as infants. We’ve been told that we were baptized, but we don’t have any first-hand knowledge of it. My case, actually, was a little different. I always thought that I had a memory of standing by the font holding some grown-up’s hand at my baptism. But I always questioned that and assumed that it was a false memory because I was raised as an Episcopalian, and we baptize infants, and all my sisters were baptized as infants. Then I started filling out the paperwork to enter the ordination process. You have to tell when you were baptized, so I called my home parish and asked for the exact date. Turns out, I was five years old! I did remember holding that hand! My mother said, "Oh, we just didn’t get around to it until then." I’m telling you, when you’re the last of five children, that kind of thing happens. It’s like when I asked my mother why my parents didn’t send me to Camp Mikell. She thought for a moment, then said, "We didn’t send you to Camp Mikell?"

So, unlike a lot of you, I do have some memory of my baptism, but, frankly, a memory of standing by the font holding a faceless grown-up’s hand is not very meaningful.

But David will have memories, and I hope they will be meaningful. One of the things he will remember is water. It’s going to get all over his face, probably run down his chin, and be a mess. It should be. If we were able to do it architecturally, I’d build us a full immersion font and dunk that boy all the way under.

Water at baptism symbolizes two contradictory things. First, it symbolizes death. We are baptized into Christ’s death. Baptism symbolizes that we offer to God the death of the parts of ourselves that rebel against God, that hurt other people and ourselves, that are our un-godly nature. The water at baptism symbolizes that we want to drown the parts of ourselves that oppose Christ, and that we want to participate in Christ’s death to save us from that sinful part of ourselves. So when you come to the altar and dip your thumb in the font to make the sign of the cross on your forehead, as many of us do, remember that it is first about drowning.

Then it is about new life. Resurrection. You cannot live without water. After dying with Christ, we are raised with Christ. Water — death, life.

This morning we hear John the Baptist as he tells the folks that he’s not the Messiah, as many of them thought. "The one who is more powerful than I," he says, "will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire." Fire. Not just water, but fire. Baptism — water, and fire.

No one gets baptized with literal fire. But John makes it clear that, symbolically, we are baptized with fire as well as water.

Like water, fire evokes contradictory images. Fire burns, but fire purifies. Fire can destroy, but fire can be the source of great excitement. (At our Christmas open house, I lit a fire in our outdoor fireplace, and several teenage boys were so mesmerized that I thought I was going to have to pull them out of it.) Fire can burn your house down, or it can warm it and cook your food.

Baptized with water — death/drowning, life/renewal — and fire — fear/destruction, comfort/excitement. The to us question is, "What’s it going to be?" Will we chose to be afraid of death, afraid that if we commit our lives to dying with Christ, we will be suffocated, drowned? Will we live in fear that God’s purification will burn us, destroy us? Or will we embrace new life and welcome the warmth and excitement of God’s purification?

The choice is ours. The symbols are here. The Paschal Candle is lit with a fire that can warm you, or burn you. The font is filled with water that can give you life or drown you. You can respond to God with fear and panic, or you can respond with warmth and excitement. People go both ways.

I love baptisms. (Even before I was a priest, I loved baptisms.) Part of it is that I think it’s very exciting to welcome a new sister or brother into the Body of Christ. But that’s not all. Another important part of it is that baptisms give me a chance to make my own baptismal memories. Many of us have no memory of our baptism. I’ve just got this vague memory of holding a giant hand. Even if you were baptized as an adult and remember it, memories fade, they become stale, they lose their power, the need to be renewed.

Part of the reason I love baptisms is that I get to participate; I get to decide. We’ll say the baptismal covenant, and you’ll get to, have to, decide. You can dip your thumb in the font, and you’ll have to decide. We’ll watch the water running down David’s face, and you’ll have to decide. We’ll see the fire in the candle, and you’ll have to decide. Is God frightening, destructive, suffocating, or welcoming, warming, exciting?

You all know how I feel about it, but you’ll have to make your own decision.

But there’s another ingredient in the formula for Holy Baptism. John said the one who was more powerful than he would baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire. When Jesus was praying after his baptism, the Holy Spirit could be seen in the form of a dove.

There’s no question in my mind that the Holy Spirit is here today, but will it be seen? There are many, many ways that we can frustrate the Holy Spirit. So, will it be seen today?

That, I think, depends on the memories you make today about your own baptism. Was it just a meaningless ritual of pouring water over somebody’s head? Is it the invocation of a fearful God? Or does it signify, in a way that sets your heart on fire, that the Creator of the Universe loves you and claims you?

If you leave here with your hearts on fire, then I’m sure that today we’ll have seen all three elements of baptism: water, fire, and the Holy Spirit. And I’ve gotta tell you, the thought of that fires me up!

But, of course, it’s up to you.