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How my coldest baptism was in Hot Coffee
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The coldest baptism in my life was in Hot Coffee.

A young couple had accepted Christ. It was a cold February day when they came to be baptized, and the baptistry heater had broken. Back then, I didn’t wear waders in the baptistry. I had two pair of brown Haggar slacks, and after I got wet baptizing, I dried off and put on the other pair. So I knew I was going to get cold, too. I asked them if they wanted to wait until the heater was fixed. They said, “Naw, we’ve been swimming in a cold creek before.”

So at the end of the service, we got ready. I descended into the water, and wow! it was cold, but I acted like there was no problem. I turned to the man, who slowly stepped into the water from my right side. He, too, acted like the water was fine.

Since this was my first baptism in this particular church, I was not familiar with the faucet sticking out on my left side. As I brought the man out of the icy water, I scraped his forehead on the faucet. Yet he joyfully arose from the baptistry, revealing no pain.

Next, his wife stepped into the water. When her feet touched the near-freezing water, she froze, too. I tugged at her hand to come. Slowly, and shivering from the cold, she came into the water. I dipped her into the water, being careful not to rip open her forehead on the faucet the way I had scarred her husband. When she came up out of the water, she slung her long hair back and forth, opened her mouth as wide as possible, and shouted at the top of her lungs, “GOD! (stretching out the name of “God” like it was four syllables) IT’S COLD!”

People were rolling in the aisles, mouths wide open in laughter. I could see the tonsils of half the congregation. That day I was glad that we had baptism at the end of the service, because church was over! Oh, did I mention where the church was? It was the Baptist church in the rural community of Hot Coffee, Miss.

Strange as it may seem, this story reminds us of what baptism is all about. Baptism is a symbol of the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus even asked his disciples, “Can you ... be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?” (Mark 10:38, NIV) He was asking if they were willing to die for him. Most of us would probably prefer scraping our heads on the faucet. Or being baptized in hot coffee.

(Copyright 2011 by Bob Rogers. Email: brogers@fbcrincon.com. Read my blog at www.holyhumor.blogspot.com.)

Is there a church for a big woman with an itch?
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A pastor was called to be guest preacher at a church. He knew this church was different when the congregation ended every line of the hymn with the shout of “yeehah!”


As he stood to preach, he noticed that people were spread out on the pews. He would see a person, then a space, then another person, and another space. He wondered why nobody sat next to another person, when he noticed on the pew beside each person was a cowboy hat.


Another time this same preacher was invited to a new church in the city. He was surprised to see that everybody there looked like they had fallen face first into a tackle box, because they had piercings and earrings on every part of the body imaginable. A rock band was playing alternative music on the stage.


As different as these two churches were, they were both growing and reaching people for Christ.


Years ago I was pastor of a small country church in the backwoods of Mississippi. There was another Baptist church just five miles away in the town (population 600). The pastor’s wife at the town church asked me, “Why don’t our two churches merge?” I said, “There are people in my church who would not feel comfortable or fit in at your town church.” She said, “Oh, come on. We’re a small town church. What could be so different?”


I said, “Well, I got one really big woman in my church who, when she gets to feeling an itch, she pulls her dress halfway up and she scratches herself.”


The eyes of this pastor’s wife got really big and she said, “I see what you mean.”


I forgot to tell her about another woman in my church who saw a roach running across the wood floor, so she stomped on it with her bare foot, laughed and shouted, “Aha! I got him!”


Yep, the culture was definitely different where I was pastor.


Jesus upset the religious establishment because He crossed cultural barriers. He loved to eat with tax collectors and Gentiles and other strange people. Jesus walked into the land of Samaria, full of half-breed Jews who worshiped in weird ways and talked different and smelled different.


Jesus walked right up to a Samaritan woman at a well and started talking her language. He accepted her culture, but he let her know her sinful lifestyle had to change. Soon she had the whole town following Jesus (see John 4).


So what cultural barrier is keeping somebody in your community from hearing the gospel? If you tear down the cultural barriers to share Christ in your neighborhood, you may hear the angels shouting, “Yeehah!”


Copyright 2014 by Bob Rogers. Email: brogers@fbcrincon.com. Read this column each Friday in the Herald. Visit my blog at www.bobrogers.me.