Keep The Drops In Your Pants
Jesus, the original Boondock Saint, is kicking ass and taking names when He comes back.
Texas Gov. Rick Perry is a cheap, cheap man, throwing the proverbial widow's mite in the collection plate and a gold-digger's mite at his house. But he plays both sides of the field in other ways: Bush's Second Coming grew up Methodist but now attends a megachurch. He concisely summarized the difference between the two: "They dunk. Methodists sprinkle."
Sorry, governor: You can't straddle this issue like Leah Remini over Kevin James in an erotic parody of "King of Queens" (working title: "Schwing of Reams"). Finish your alienation of independent voters and choose dunking.
Sprinkling is more wrong than Moammar Qaddafi spooning Bashar Assad in a vat of pork posole during Ramadan.
You theologically limp-wristed finger flickers have willed yourselves to forget how John the Baptist earned his name: by dunking people in the Jordan River, including Jesus himself. You don't get the voice of God booming from the sky by lightly dousing the Messiah like a fussy orchid. Jesus, the original Boondock Saint, is kicking ass and taking names when He comes back. "Believers" who can't handle a dip in their pastor's heated backyard pool, and some light ogling from preteen boys at the sight of soaked sweater-puppies, should worry about a Bigger Dip. Into hell.
Even our secular superheroes eschew redemption via perspiration. Dr. Horrible's clumsy mayhem was made more impressive by the impotence of his sidekick Moist, whose greatest power is making people feel icky. When your pageboy-haired lady priest in her holy bathrobe propels those droplets at your forehead, your immediate reaction isn't "I'm cleansed" but "Handkerchief, please."
Baptism should be a cathartic experience, not a mild inconvenience, like rearranging your junk under a cummerbund at a HOOP fundraiser. The sinless Man got naked, whipped and strung up for the sins of the world. And you're too proud to don an oversized church-branded T-shirt and spandex shorts, answer a string of revealing questions in front of your gossiping congregation, and take a plunge for a good cause like the Dick Cheney Dunk Tank?
Intellectualize your heresy all you want, you Presbyterian perfiders. Be glad I'm not coming after you for forehead-stamping your toddlers into God's kingdom without their consent.
If you're baptized but no one can tell, does it really happen? Well, yeah. Whether dunking--which is the Girls Gone Wild version of a public proclamation of faith--or a light misting, mode of baptism need not be cause for schism.
Does it really matter whether you opt for the California Rain method or the Malcolm Gladwell patented Full Immersion Outliers Theology in the end? No! Because you're probably not really a true Christian in the first place, based on your lifestyle choices, and whether you believe Michelle Bachmann is the second coming of Rick Santorum or not, you seem like the kind of douche who has to turn a molehill into Mount Sinai.
You can't pretend to be the faithful and One True Interpreter of God's Word and also still think "Two and a Half Men" is the last word in comedy. There's no evidence in the Bible that dunking is God's chosen means of that final installment on your ransom. Indeed, sprinkling is mentioned numerous times through scripture to ceremonially cleans folks of their depravity; God reserves full immersion for calamity, like the Flood, or Jonah and the Whale (not to be confused with Noah).
But bad things tend to happen when you observe the Phoebe Cates of the OT emerging from a pool of lukewarm water.
If you have to choose a side, go with the one that allows you to endure public embarrassment in the least objectionable way.
The dunk is dramatic, unlike Michael Jordan's tepid affair with Karla Knafel and his appearance on "My Wife and Kids" (you'd think there'd be some one who remembers that conjunction, but I may be the only one).
The sprinkle is classy but not overly smug or opinionated. Unlike the full immersion BMW, which zooms past the legal speed limit like its an unwanted piece of advice and steals parking spots from old women, sprinkling is the Audi of spiritual rebirth; it's the Febreze® of soul cleansing.
Yes, Jesus chose to take a dive (into the Jordan), but He also walked around in sandals and was kind of indigent.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I'm just saying, times have changed. Instead of rivers, people have kidney shaped pools and vases. I didn't ask my pastor to sweep me into the sewage-flow of the Los Angeles River because when you get baptized, you're doing it because you want the world to know that you've been cleansed and claimed by God, not the Department of Water.
In fact, its not the water or the amount that matters. It's whether you did it, and why, that does.