1. I have been baptized 5 times. For a while, I thought this was some kind of record, and then I found out that people from the middle east do it all the time. It's an ancient ritual called a mikvah in Hebrew, and performed for a variety of reasons.
The first time was within minutes of being born. My obstetrician was a devout Catholic, and didn't expect me to live; and, since he was already dunking me in cold water to get me to breathe, I guess he figured, why not kill 2 birds with 1 stone? Subsequently, it took me 21 years to get over my fear of water.
A few months later I was ceremoniously baptized (a.k.a sprinkled), complete with Godparents and grandparents in attendance.
At 21, I rediscovered Jesus and was talked into it again. This was in one of those cheezy fish tanks that they have in the front of most Baptist churches. I walked down the steps into waist-deep luke warm water wearing a white robe over my street clothes. When the minister asked me to give my testimony, I leaned into the microphone only to receive one hellacious shock on the lips. You'd think that I would have stopped there, but no....
10 years later, I found myself in the Gulf of Mexico next to my wife, being baptized at sunset by her brother. It was beautiful, warm and wet. There were no sharks, stingrays or jelly fish, so things were beginning to improve.
My favorite one though was the fifth and most recent. Sue and I celebrated our 25th anniversary in Israel, and as part of this most awesome journey, we were baptized in the Jordon River. The gently flowing water was cold and the color of jade. A soft breeze played tricks with the light that filtered down through the willows and pine trees lining both sides of the Jordon. The baptizer this time was my friend and pastor-the guy who had made it possible for me to be there in the first place. Looking me straight in the eyes, he asked: "Charlie Riger, are you ready for this?" All I could utter was, "Oh yea, bring it on." Placing one hand in the small of my back and the other hand over my mouth, he started to recited those all too familiar words: "I baptize you, in the name of the Father, the.... The words faded as he gently dunked me, the way a dancer would dip his partner. Enveloped in the Jordon's cold greeness, I risked swallowing some, knowing that I may never get another chance to drink directly from this holy river. For a few seconds, I became one with the river, the moment, and possibly, the entire space-time continuum. Read the classic novel, Siddhartha and you'll know what I'm talking about.
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So what's the deal with all these baptisms? I don't know, but I swear they were random. And as for the 7 other random things about me, maybe they'll become fodder for future blogs.
Shalom
