Baptized In the Jordan
Baptized in the Jordan
The preacher announced on the bus:
"We are heading to the Jordan river,
those wishing to be baptized
will get their chance."
Thoughts of being dunked
in the same water
as the real Jesus.
That appealed to me.
Visions of a wilderness
river,
just like in those bible times.
Taking my cloak off,
wading into the muddy Jordan.
John the baptizer himself,
doing the honors.
Dropping me backwards,
dying my old sins,
raising me to a new life.
Coming out to the sound:
"This is my son,
in whom I am well pleased."
That appealed to me.
We got off the bus.
The wilderness was not
all that wild.
The Jordan had been turned into
"Baptisms are us."
Complete with deli and gift shop.
Apparently six other buses
also had been led by the spirit.
Our spirit's time was
between 4:00 and 4:30.
Ten dollars got you a towel
and a white sterile pullover,
barely long enough to cover
your glad tidings.
Lockers and showers were optional.
Our group was in zone 4.
Who knew rivers had zones.
As one of a hundred white
clothed sheep, I felt like
the newest member of a cult,
like the Hari Krishnas,
but without the fancy haitcuts.
We were herded down concrete steps
that led to the river.
The Jordan was cold.
Baptizers were in the water,
ready to go.
Henry Ford would have been proud
of that production line.
Baptizing had never
been more efficient.
Two every ninety seconds,
like pistons, up and down.
When it came time for me,
I didn't get a "Thank you Jesus"
out before I was whipped around
and plunged beneath the crimson flood.
I almost got whiplash.
I dripped back to the locker,
glad tidings and all.
I think I was baptizee #41.
For five bucks,
you can get
a DVD of your sacred event.
I bought ten,
they oughta make
great Christmas presents.
I went through the gift shop.
I bought a set of John the Baptist
steak knives,
Virgin Mary placemats,
and a couple of Holy Ghost
candle sticks.
As I got back on the bus,
I thought how far we've come
in 2,000 yrs.
We've made God's job so much easier,
assembly line salvation and baptism,
with steak knives thrown in.
Would Jesus be proud?
That did not appeal to me.
9.7.17.
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