Under water

I'm thankful for the grounding that religion can give us in our lives. Last month I had the privilege of baptizing my eight-year-old son Derek. One of the things that makes my church special to me is that we have a lay priesthood. This means that instead of having one person at the head of the congregation who has the responsibility of teaching the gospel and performing the ordinances of baptism, laying on of hands, etc., we all share in these responsibilities.

Any male member of the church who conforms to our basic teachings is called to be a member of the priesthood, and yup, I'm included. In our church, eight years old is the minimum age for baptism. We figure that by then the kids are old enough to understand what they're doing and to remember it later. Derek is our fifth child to be baptized and our whole family was excited to be there. My parents and two siblings came down from Couer d'Alene and Spokane to be with us for the day. Christina's parents and five of her siblings were there with their families. Two of Derek's cousins were getting baptized in the same service. In fact, since it was just the three of them, it was pretty much a family affair.

Baptizing my son reminded me of my own baptism just 31 years ago. I remember the feeling of the warm water in the font. The feeling of my Dad being there with me, of his hands holding me while I dunked under the water. The feeling of the wet white jumpsuit clinging to my legs and making me feel heavier. And the feeling that I was moving on to a new stage in my life and participating in something good.

Baptism is a ceremony that dates at least back to the time of Jesus. As I baptized Derek I couldn't help but think that I was filling the role that John the Baptist played for the Savior, and that Derek was following Jesus into the water. There is something special about participating in such an ancient ordinance that gives it weight and significance in our lives.

After baptism, we put on our dry Sunday clothes and got ready for his confirmation. In the confirmation ceremony, a circle of priesthood holders (usually family members) place their hands on the head of the person to be confirmed. One member of the circle (often the father, me in this case) voices a prayer in which the recipient is confirmed a member of the church and commanded to receive the Holy Ghost, following this a blessing is given.

We give priesthood blessings to newborns, to our children, to fellow church members, or anybody who asks when they are facing an illness, a challenge, or any significant life event. The first few times I had the opportunity to give blessings I was really nervous. I try not to put a lot of thought into what I will say during the blessing. I'd like to think that my mind is open to the inspiration of heaven. Over the years I've become more comfortable with the process, but I still get a little nervous.

I wish that I'd written this closer to the event, I've forgotten pretty much all of the words of the blessing. But to me, the miracle is that when I clear my mind, I feel like words are given me to say. Words that I wouldn't have come up with on my own. And the words were accompanied by a feeling that what we were doing was right and good.

As I said at the beginning, I'm grateful to have faith in my life. I think it's something that comes easier to some than to others. There's been times when I've had struggles with belief. Many religious teachings can sometimes feel like wishful thinking or inadequate explanations. My faith is based in experiences like my son's baptism. Times in my life where I've felt closer to heaven, when my doubts recede and my faith is increased. I still have doubts sometimes, but they pale in the light of the experiences I've had. And I feel that when I have these moments of faith, my life is happier, my relationship with my wife and children is stronger and more meaningful, and I have a little bit better understanding of who God is and what He wants for me.

Derek McKay and his proud father, January 25, 2014