I was born the daughter of the Chairman of Deacons in a Baptist church.  When I was about six weeks old, I was dedicated in a Baptist church.  About a month before I turned seven, I walked the aisle in a Baptist church and became a Christian.  My best friend and I went to a Baptist camp two summers in a row as Girls in Action.  During the summer between seventh and eighth grade, I answered the call to Youth Ministry in Hatch Auditorium at Fort Caswell, a Baptist-ran youth camp.  I returned to that same camp several summers in a row.  When I graduated high school, I moved to Mars Hill College, a private school with a rich Baptist heritage.  I served as the Director of Youth for almost two years at a Baptist church.  Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that God is not Baptist! 

It’s not unusual for my friends and me to discuss what’s going on in our churches lately.  I’m always entertained by what our various congregations are finding important these days.  One time, we heard about how they moved a chair or podium for a skit and someone was offended.  One time, it was how someone suggested they move the worship time from 11:00 to 10:30 and there was an almost riot.  Most recently, we had the never ending conversation of how we baptize people in our churches and at what point.  One person shared that they were sprinkled as a baby then they were confirmed (and sprinkled again) when they were older and had completed their Confirmation Class.  I talked about how I was baptized when I saw six because I walked the aisle to profess I had accepted Jesus Christ into my heart.  That’s when the discussion was had as to whether or not God cared if you were immersed or sprinkled with water.

After going round and round with whether or not it mattered, and why we do things in our churches a certain way—we ended several statements with “I don’t really know”.  Here’s what I do know: God is not Baptist.  Or Methodist.  Or Lutheran.  Or Presbyterian.  I don’t think He really cares if we’re baptized or sprinkled.  I don’t think he cares if we drink wine or grape juice during communion.  I don’t think it matters to Him if the choir wears robes, we meet at 11:00, or have cushions on our pews or not.  I don’t think He cares if we use crackers or bread when we serve communion.  I just don’t think He’s concerned about all of that. 

I think what grabs God’s attention is how we love our neighbors.  Are we Jesus to the least of these?  Are we as a church standing in the gaps for those around us?  Or are we so wrapped up in how we get someone to Jesus that we aren’t even getting them there anymore.  God’s concerned with our hearts.  I’m not anymore saved than my Presbyterian friend just because I was immersed in water and she was sprinkled when we both professed Jesus as Lord.  Just like my Methodist friends aren’t closer to God because they recite the Apostle’s Creed. 

My prayer today is that I’ll be so caught up in ministering to my neighbors that I won’t have time to worry about whether or not I got the traditions and rituals “right”.  I want to battle Satan for the hearts of the lost, not my fellow church goers over carpet colors and baptism practices.  I desire for what grieves my heart to match what grieves God’s heart, and I’m convinced that’s people joining the Kingdom…