Wed. 5 Jan. 2022

Baptism of Christ

Maren Tirabassi

Every time we turn on the faucet
or off the teakettle,

every time we fill a washing machine
or empty the bathtub,

every time we boil a potato
or shampoo the hair of someone
who can’t raise their arms,

every time we irrigate crops or eyes,

every time we diaper a baby
shed a tear with a friend,
or offer a stranger something to drink,

every time we listen to raindrops fall,
watch snow melt
or just complain about the drip
from a pipe we can’t afford to repair,

every time, every time,
we remember we are baptized.

Maybe it happened in a church
or a lake or a river,
long ago or yesterday.
Maybe we are still swimming toward it,
or it never happened and never will.
God doesn’t mind.

Theologically speaking,
the faucet or the stranger,
either one,
would be enough.