During the passing of the ambient sun of Lazarus Saturday, the lovingly be-haired Young Joseph was baptised through our church into the ever-loving mystery of Christ’s salvation.
Joseph Llewellyn-Jones had been attending church and catechumen classes from before my family had passed through the doors of the church and into the thin spaces of her grace. When my family were chrismated into Orthodoxy the previous Lazarus Saturday, Joseph had been there. In my short time with the church Young Joseph had been there. Now it was his turn and his features wore the beguiled peace of a human being being formally introduced to his cosmological family through the authority and good nature of Fr Stephen and Fr Panteleimon.
As intimate a service as it is broad in strokes, his baptism led me to that place of consideration between our external actions and their internal effects. Or is it the other way around? I started staring at the wood flooring and wondering, as I often do, what exactly is down there and is it trying to communicate with me? What ancient things scurry about and where is the trap door to find out?
When I looked back up Joseph changed from human to illumined, and God’s Kingdom expanded with another room. How wonderful!
J W Bowe