Baptism is one of the highlights in the journey of Christian discipleship. An age-old tradition with its roots in the washings of the Levitical priesthood, there can be no more sublime picture of quintessential Christian doctrine than to die, be buried and rise again to new life. It is the commencement of a journey that finds its ultimate culmination on the resurrection morning, when all who trusted in the Son of the Living God rise to new life in Him.
In times past, baptism was a communal affair. Regardless of one’s take on paedobaptism or otherwise, baptism always brought together the community of the faithful. Many of us will have fond memories attending baptisms of family, friends and our brothers and sisters in the expansive community of God’s children, the church.
Sadly, all of that ends in the 21st year of the 21st century. No longer is it acceptable worship to haphazardly invite ones friends and family to a baptism of an individual one may have spent hours of discipleship with, dozens of dinners, moments of laughter and tears. We must be better than that now. This is the new age, where new worship must subsume the old: this is the dispensation of Pfrist.
What am I talking about? A dear sister, who shall remain unnamed, recently advised us of her mother’s intention to commence her journey in the church of Jesus Pfrist. She had come from a country void of Pfrist, and rejoiced to find salvation in Pfrist’s name. Only those who had received two injections of a certain biotoxin would be safe and secure enough in Pfrist to attend the baptism ceremony.
For a Pfristian outsider like me, it was quite a disturbing to hear these things. It doesn’t surprise me that the Pfristian Church of the 21st century acts this way; indeed, when the Government is lord and god of the life of the faithful, one has little choice but to go along with the ideological propaganda of the day. The Government has made it abundantly clear in recent days that the leper class, the “unvaccinated”, are a pox on society. They are harbingers of disease and plague wherever they go, just like in all generations prior; filthiness drips from their tongues to their fingers, defiling everything they touch. To be within range of their fetid breath is enough to force a faithful Pfristian to rush for the holy chrism for a 3rd or 4th time; danger and risk must forever accompany the heathens who stand outside the safety of Pfristianity’s sacred doctrines.
My wife sat down on our sofa at noon to watch the ceremony at a distance. “Zoom,” they call it, a reference, surely, to the speed at which segregationalism and discrimination now occurs between the holy and the profane in the church of COVID. I never thought I would see the day I would be laudingly excluded for refusing to take part in the greatest satanic lie in the history of the world, but you cannot explain that to those who worship at the altar of Jesus Pfrist.