Bertha and Her Baptism

by Nehemiah Adams

Mr. Kelly was at this moment called out, but requested me to remain and finish the conversation with Mrs. K. She resumed it, saying:

"Had I better read any more on the subject? My feelings lead me strongly to take our little one to church. I feel that I should be strengthened by the solemn act of doing what the covenant of your church says, 'avouching the Lord Jehovah to be your God and the God of your children forever.' I do wish to feel that I have done something like bearing testimony before God, in a special way, that I give my child to him, and engage God to be his God."

Mr. M. I should candidly examine whatever Mr. K. wishes you to read or hear on the subject, and not be afraid of the truth, let it lead where it may. But what first made you think of baptizing your little boy?

Mrs. K. I always loved the ordinance. But, when I thought that Henry was going to die, I was watching him all night, and, as I was praying, it occurred to me that I wished I could see the church praying for him; and that led me to think of the church praying for a child when it is brought into the house of God. I felt that night that, if I could speak to the pastor, I would ask him to request the prayers of the church for him as for one who, if he got well, should be brought into the house of God, and be publicly consecrated, and I with him, again, as his mother, to the Lord. I had given him and myself to God; but I felt the need of some more special act, on which I could fall back in my thoughts, and of which God would graciously say to me, "I am the God of Bethel, where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a vow unto me."

Mr. M. How kind it was in God to remind Jacob of that pile of stones, and to call himself the God of Bethel! O, how he loves marked exercises of consecration and love!

Mrs. K. My husband always said, "Let him offer himself for baptism when he grows up, and understands the meaning of it." I told him that when I was admitted to the church I was not baptized, but I had this pleasant feeling, that I had a baptism in infancy by my dear good mother to think of now, and to seal by my own acknowledgment. If Henry had died without being baptized, or should now be hindered from it, I should never cease to grieve.

Mr. M. You think, however, that he would be saved, nevertheless.

Mrs. K. O, saved! that is not all. I do not think merely of his getting into heaven. Though we are saved wholly by grace, is there not something implied in "washing our robes, and making them white, in the blood of the Lamb?" I do not believe in justification by works nor by sacraments, yet I do believe in their wonderful effect, through grace alone, upon our character and future condition. I do believe, Mr. M., that there is a difference between children whose parents, impelled by love to God, make public offering of their children to him, with solemn vows, and daily perform their vows, treating their children as baptized in the name of the Trinity, and children whose parents either carelessly baptize them, or feel no such spiritual desires for them as to seek the use of any public ordinance, nor any special private consecration. I believe that God regards them differently. He has placed his mark on the baptized. I must go with my son to God's house, as Hannah did, and with her feelings. How strange! She prayed for that son, and then, as soon as he was weaned, she gave him away to God; for it is beautifully said, you know, "And the child was young." Well, I think I understand that. I could leave Henry in the temple, if the service of God's house required him; for, when he was sick, I gave him up to God, and as long as he liveth he shall be the Lord's. How did cousin Bertha feel about the baptism after your little boy died?

Mr. M. It was often the chief topic of her conversation. Her father wrote a full statement of his views, which helped her greatly. We have read it over since we lost our child. I will send it to you, if you wish. You can read it, with Mr. K.'s books, and I wish you to show it to him if he cares to see it.

All this was done. Kind feelings prevailed; there was not much discussion, and, one Sabbath morning, little Henry Kelly was brought to church. But the mother was without the father. He was called to a distant place on business; but he allowed his wife to act her pleasure in the case during his long absence. More of this in its place.