Why Infant Baptism is Needed Now More Than Ever

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I did not grow up in an infant baptism tradition. I was baptized when I was 12 at a megachurch. It was a special service on a Sunday evening when mostly the parents of those being baptized gathered. I remember entering the warm water at the front of the large sanctuary, confessing my sins before God, professing my faith in Jesus, and then the youth pastor dunked me below the water. As quickly as I was ushered into the water, I was ushered out, followed by the next person to be baptized—a baptismal assembly line of sorts.

All in all, it was anticlimactic. I don’t remember any class or talk before being baptized explaining to me or my parents what baptism meant. Nor was there any follow up. I signed up. It happened. And then I could say I was baptized. I did it because it was expected of me—like something to check off on a Christian to-do list. 

What I do remember, however, from my days in this particular evangelical tradition is that something was wrong with me. From my birth, I was born into sin and God disliked me up until this moment when I accepted Jesus into my heart and was baptized. That message is what would stick with me throughout my teen years and early young adult years. I was vile, depraved, and I was, as Jonathan Edward put it, a sinner in the hands of an angry God. 

And then I met the Methodists. 

My sophomore year of college, I took a music job at a local United Methodist Church. To be completely honest, I didn’t know what a Methodist was apart from their willingness to pay a broke college student to direct their small and aging choir. 

It was at this small church that I witnessed my first infant baptism. I was theologically confused. This 6 month old child, dressed in a long white baptismal gown, surrounded by doting parents, grandparents, and the entire congregation didn’t know what was happening to them. How could they accept God’s grace before they had even become aware of things like God’s wrath and judgment on their sin?

Instead, I heard a different story. 

I heard the pastor declare that this child was wildly loved by God, and that God was already pouring grace upon this child, wooing them to God’s self. I heard the child’s parents commit to their faith and to raise and nurture the child in the faith. And then the strangest thing happened, I heard the entire congregation commit to do the same. 

After the water was poured over the child’s head, the pastor paraded the baby up and down the aisle as the congregation sang a hymn over the child, smiling, and proudly welcoming this child into their church family. After the service, the family received a certificate marking this day, photos were taken, and cake was served in celebration. All of this hoopla, and the baby was blissfully unaware that any of it happened. 

And I melted. I was so moved by this experience, I thought, I missed something in my baptism that I needed to revisit. Was baptism about me at all? Or did it have something more to do with a God who willingly and freely pours grace upon us? This moment of witnessing an infant baptism sent me on a journey of discovering this ancient tradition and to eventually discover the beauty of the God who baptizes. 

Having served now in ministry for 20 years, becoming a pastor myself, having taught the sacraments in local pastor school, and having done at least a hundred infant baptisms, I am convinced that we need to return to a robust display of God’s prevenient grace expressed through infant baptism. 

My conviction, while deeply theological (I won’t go into the robust nature of Wesley’s theology of baptism here), is increasingly a little more practical.

Here is what I mean. 

I am the father of two high schoolers, a middle schooler, and an older elementary child. Raising four kids in the world today is difficult to say the least. In a social media world where you are immediately judged within nanoseconds of a posting, where what you wear determines your social standing, where the need to conform to the whims of one’s peer group is palpable, to the desire for authentic connection through a fabricated digital world, my kids are under a barrage of pressure.

Not only that, I am amazed at the pressure my high school kids feel to already choose a college to attend, while also working tirelessly to get scholarships to help pay for it (which adds pressure in the classroom). Living in a large school system, while the opportunities are endless, the need to stick out in academics, clubs, and/or sports so that one can get noticed and have good options for the future is overwhelming. 

My kids are constantly being evaluated for what they do and produce. 

Perform. Do. Stand out (but not too much as to impact one’s social standing). Be the best. 

No wonder our young people are experiencing a mental health crisis at an alarming rates. 

And then there is this subversive act of the church—infant baptism—that says, long before you can do anything or become anyone, before anyone likes your social media posts, before school grades and accolades are even a thought, before SAT scores, and scholarship applications, you are wildly loved by God for simply being born. Before you even know who you are or who you think you will become, God is already wooing you to God’s self without any meritorious measure on your end.

I mean come on! Who doesn't need to hear that message? How freeing!

One of the beautiful components of Infant baptism is that it is not only a declaration of God’s love for the child, but an incorporation into the life of the church. It’s a recognition of the whole congregation's love and commitment to the child. It’s a declaration that we, a diverse people of all ages and backgrounds, are on the journey of life together. That faith is not a solo journey. That together we will perfect one another in Christian love. It’s a profound declaration that a child, again before they do anything significant, has a whole community behind them, reminding them of their belovedness. If a congregation takes this vow seriously, this message is reiterated to the child over and over again throughout their entire life. 

In a world that measures one’s success on what they produce, the church declares that what you do or don’t do does not define one’s life. The God who baptizes has marked you as beloved already.

I can’t think of a message that young people need to hear more than that.

One of the practices we do in my congregation is that every child who is baptized receives a children’s book explaining what baptism means, a prayer shawl knit by our prayer team, and baptismal certificate. In addition to this, they also receive a letter written by me and our associate pastor that is to be read around their 12th birthday. In this letter, we retell the moment of their baptism. We celebrate the love of God, the love of their parent(s), and the love of the congregation. We invite them to continue the journey of discovering their belovedness through confirmation class. All of this is to serve as a reminder that their baptism journey is ongoing. It helps solidify that we, together as the baptized people of God, are becoming more like Jesus.

A few years ago, we placed our baptismal font at the back of the sanctuary. After each worship service, we invite our congregation to touch the baptismal waters, to place the water on their foreheads in the sign of the cross, and to remember their own baptism. Why? Because even as adults, we need to be reminded that we are loved even despite what we have done or not done. We too are the beloved. 

I can’t think of a message that all of us need more than that.

The Rev. Dr. Jason Wellman serves as pastor of Scioto Ridge UMC in Ohio and as professor of ministry leadership at Portland Seminary. This post is republished with the author's permission from his Substack blog.