Then Phillip began to speak, and starting with this scripture, as he proclaimed to the Ethiopian Eunuch the good news about Jesus. As they were going along the road, they came to some water; and the eunuch said, "Look here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?" (Acts 8:35-36)

Several years ago, the brother of my best friend lost his baby girl at birth. The dad and mom, both Catholic, wanted to have their daughter, Laura, baptized, even though she had already died. They paged the Catholic priest on-call at the hospital. He would not perform the sacrament. "Baptism is for the living." Incensed but determined, the parents requested the Protestant chaplain on-call. She came, with a shell in hand that would soon fill up with holy water, and baptized Laura.

"Look here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?"

Human beings can prevent us from being baptized.

My friend's brother and spouse couldn't leave the hospital with Laura. But they left with the memory of her baptism, that even in death Laura was welcomed into the Christian community to be remembered; her name and memory to be shared even though she wasn't able to share her own breath.

In my interview with Kathleen, she commented that what she appreciates most about chaplaincy is that parents don't care how high she lifts the bread, if she gets crumbs all over the place, or if she says the "right" words. They just care that there is bread. In times of deep suffering, the "rules and regulations" of the church, especially around the sacraments, just don't cut it. Kathleen commented that the pastoral care takes precedent over this idea of what is right and wrong when sharing the sacraments. The nuances, she said, she will leave up to God.

I'm so thankful for the story of the Ethiopian Eunuch with the Eunuch's self-assurance that even while an ultimate outsider within the community, he had the guts to proclaim he was worthy of baptism.

I'm thankful for the story of Thecla, an early follower of Jesus who traveled with Paul. Thecla's story sits on the margins of Church history. For being followers, Paul and Thecla were thrown in jail, outed by her family nonetheless. Thecla was to be burned at the stake but a miraculous storm put out the flames. Again, Thecla was taken by force, dragged through town at the protest of the women in the city. Thecla was sentenced to be eaten by wild beasts. She survived and returned to her travels with Paul only after she baptized herself in a pool of water.

I'm thankful for the story of Cornelius who experienced this crazy, incredible dream about changing dietary rules. Cornelius and his household realized that the Holy Spirit was prodding and directing them in a new way that was more inclusive and fluid.

I'm thankful for the story of Laura and the Methodist pastor who gently took water from a shell and placed it on Laura's body, a body void of physical life yet not of love.

I'm thankful for Kathleen, for being this guidepost in my life, for being a force for human connection with the Holy in times of deep, incredible suffering. I'm thankful that I have her as part of this circle that shows me that the Way is not about adopting a certain set of beliefs, rules, and dogma but committing ourselves to a certain way of life in the world. While I don't think I'm headed down this road, the last thing I want to become is a theological asshole. This is why I keep the company I keep. So I stay grounded in stories that matter, stories that shape me and how I want to share, give, and receive.

This is why I stick to Pilgrims like glue. We use another baptismal formula other then "Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." Our formula gives more a back-story to God's story and uses more inclusive language. Technically, one could argue, those who are baptized at Pilgrims with this formula aren't really baptized.

We have an open table at communion, declaring all are welcome who seek wholeness and community. It's a big theological "no-no" not to say, "all those who are baptized can come to the table." Jeff and I serve at the table alongside a church member, all of us participating in the lifting, the words, and the sharing.

We do these things because the sacraments shape a vision of how we are in relationship to one another. Just as we see the bread, the cup and water as more then just ordinary in the sacraments, we are to look into each others eyes, those eyes that express living and dying, and see the presence of the Holy, of the God who longs for our wholeness. For me, the "rules" around the sacraments get in the way of bridging and deepening the connections that let us experience that type of healing.

What is to prevent me from being baptized?

Ecclesiastical Rules. Regulations. Out-dated theology. Pastoral arrogance.

I came away from my interview with Kathleen more empowered to break the rules for the sake of Jesus, for the sake of community that is called to be just, loving, and caring in life and in death. Sitting and listening to Kathleen was like listening to a book full of stories that gives witness to the nature of the Holy Spirit as one that pushes the boundaries of Christian community wider then our human understanding.

When I asked Kathleen about an image that speaks to her life right now she said a book. When I asked her to draw the image she created a counterclockwise spiral circle. She called it a source of energy, a Reiki symbol. Ironically, Louise Green picked the same image--counterclockwise and all. Kathleen said the symbol represented the multi-dimensions of faith, that if we are traveling on the same spiral path, there is one moment, one story, directly above and below another. The moments, said Kathleen, keep informing her life and she has a responsibility to the stories and to share and teach what she has learned. As she weaves the spirals, the stories, together the experiences become a part of her present informing her towards a more hopeful future.