Baptism Speech
When I was a boy, I was certain the world around me was simply a collection of lifeless particles. Clearly, only a moron could believe in a magic man living in the sky. He must be a character from 'Avatar the Last Airbender' who can bend the four elements — how else could he create the world in six days?
The summer before senior year of uni, I met up with a few mates from high school — one of whom was my pal, Wei Chao. In high school, Wei Chao had canvassed for Bernie Sanders and taught the rest of us how to smoke weed. Unfortunately, he didn't bring any weed; instead he pulled out a Bible and told us we needed to accept Jesus. Not knowing what to think, I replied that I couldn't possibly listen to anyone who squatted less than four plates — much less a malnourished Jewish carpenter from two thousand years ago.
Years later I received a call from Jacob, another high school friend. Jacob was an athletic Jew who could squat four plates like myself. I respected his opinions. Recently, Jacob had become interested in religion and started reading the Gospels. He quoted verses to me on the phone: "Love your neighbor as yourself"; "If your eye seeks to sin, cast out your eye"; "Pray for those that hate and persecute you."
"This is it, dude — the book that our society was based on. All of the founding fathers were Christian; every president too."
"Yeah right," I said. "Haven't you heard of carbon dating? The big bang? These books were written by retarded cavemen with five brain cells, dude."
He paused. "It's alright, man. You went to public school for like 20 years. I understand."
At first I was shocked. Then I found myself wondering: did I believe in God? I was astonished to realize that I did. I was certain that creation was deliberate; there had to be an architect. So I downloaded the Bible on audiobook and started listening to the New Testament. My reaction was mixed; I was moved by the teachings of Christ, but bewildered by the absurd miracles throughout the text. And how could God have a son? "Because the Bible says so, bro," my Armenian friend told me while we drove around Brighton Beach in his Lincoln Town Car.
Stymied by religion, I turned my attention to career, gym, and girls — with a few weekends of cocaine sprinkled in. One day, Wei Chao invited me to a weeknight service with our friend Chimdi in the Bronx. It was inside an old brick VA building. We sang a few corny songs, and the pastor gave a sermon about becoming more like Jesus. At the end, he closed his eyes and started talking to God. Talk about culture shock — in my 26 years as an American, I had never before seen someone pray.
"That shit sucked," I told Wei Chao and Chimdi after we stepped out. "Maybe I'll start reading the Quran and become a Muslim cleric."
"Nah, man," Chimdi said. "I think it would be really cool if you got into Christianity."
So I jumped on the 5 train back to Brooklyn, and immediately loaded the Bible onto my Kindle. This time, when I read about Moses parting the waves, my brain didn't reject it. Instead, I felt like I heard an Armenian voice saying, "That's facts, bro." Over the next few weeks, I spent nearly every waking moment with my nose buried in scripture. Then it hit me: the creation of the world, the covenant with Abraham, and the fulfillment in Christ — it was all facts, bro.
What does it really mean to be born again? My Jewish friends might say that I've been pushing Christianity on them like a used car salesman. I wish I could say that I've stopped cursing, and no longer feel the urge to chain-smoke after a stressful day. Truth be told, I've been through rough patches in my faith, but if anything, I'm even more certain that I want nothing but to live in Christ... even if he didn't squat four plates. Amen.