I’ve never seen a baby baptism before. Even though Jesus had revealed himself to babies (Matt. 11:25-26), a baby being enlightened to know Jesus was simply unthinkable among the Evangelical Protestantism I grew up with. They did baptise infants at my Evangelical Covenant Church but most of the people at that particular church were credobaptists. One only is considered “in” if they fully understand absolutely everything. Maybe it was a good thing God had me watch this baby baptism because the homily spoken was an homily of relief. I had never heard homilies like that. The priest insisted that there was no way we can get to God on our own. We seek God but we find him because he finds us.
This was completely contrary to the Protestantism I was raised with. We seek God but we can never find God because he remains hidden from us and doesn’t want to reveal himself to us. (Because of or in spite of the incarnation?) We’re always reaching out to God but he’s never reaching out to us. God is revealed only to those who put the most effort and study into it. This is why most of the pastors in my Evangelical Protestant background had relevant theology degrees like an M.Div. and were qualified to tell us all there is to know about God. Only they knew God it seemed.
Afterward, I was able to talk with my deacon again. We started off with where I was since last talk–three new scratches which means I fell back. My deacon was disappointed. He sees Satan winning. Satan continues to put these cut marks on my arms, he wants to put crosses on my arms. I would rather crosses on my arms myself. He let me know that this battle with the supernatural isn’t my battle. It’s St. Michael’s battle–he threw Satan to the ground. It’s the angels’ battle–they teamed up with St. Michael. It’s God’s battle–he commands the angels. It’s the saints’ battle–they’ve been blessed to persevere to the end.
He found out something yesterday…I had never been baptised. I’m quite surprised the parish priest never told him. Father knew I wasn’t baptised. It seems that a lot of people I tell that I’ve grown up Christian don’t seem to get the style of Christianity I was raised in taught that you baptise yourself. Your faith is entirely yours. There’s no “help”. You either “believe” or you’re an idiot. My dad would laugh at atheists (in private–in public, he attempts to “minister” to them to get them to believe). There are no exorcisms–the power of the demonic is seen as either non-existent or not important. A cutter like myself is presumed to have ill faith on the spot, not seen as someone struggling with Satan.
My deacon was finally able to declare that this is where the problem was! I haven’t been able to receive the exorcism like the little girl that I saw baptised yesterday was able to. My form of Christianity just didn’t believe that all men struggled with Satan…including infants. So why bother driving the devil away from them as early on as possible from their life? If the devil was driven out of the lives of me and my sisters sooner, would we be struggling with faith? Perhaps. Perhaps not. My parents will never know the answer. But that matters not now. What matters now is that my task is simple…call on the supernatural for help every time I feel an urge to cut and let my deacon (for now) be a better father to me. Let Auntie be a better mother to me as well. My parents see these cuts and think I better medication–they don’t know I actually struggle with the demonic and probably won’t get that because they don’t believe that themselves.