Orphan No More: Introducing the late Alton, the oldest person I've baptized
I answered the phone and the voice on the other end was unfamiliar. He asked if I was the pastor, and then he asked if he could come by to see me in a few minutes. He happened to be in the area. Not too many minutes later an older man parked his pickup truck on the street and came to my door. I had never met him before, but as is the custom in our small towns, he quickly introduced himself. Harvey is his name. He told me about all the people he knows that I should know too. He then asked about some people he thought I would know. I go through this routine often as the pastor of a rural church, so I know how to play the game well.
After our small talk Harvey appeared a little nervous. He had a request of me, and I could tell it troubled him. It took him a while to get to it, but in so many words he was visiting on behalf of a friend of his. Years ago they lived under the same roof as he was growing up. His friend, Alton, was orphaned as a teenager. His grandparents were members of our church years ago, so Alton, now suffering from terminal cancer, thought our church would make a fitting host for his funeral service with the pastor officiating.
I thought to myself that none of these requests should make anyone nervous. I told Harvey that our church is quite hospitable when it comes to funerals, and I always counted that to be one of our strengths. Harvey stopped me and revealed what he thought was a problem. Alton lived a rough life. He struggled with alcohol abuse. He was not religious in any measurable way. Harvey was a bit perplexed about people using a church building after death when they did not make much use of it during their lifetime.
I told Harvey I understood his concern, because I knew he meant well. I then asked him what he understood about Alton’s faith. The talkative man in my living room was now quiet. After a pause in the conversation, he looked at me and said he did not know. I told him we better find out, so I told him to ask Alton if it would be okay for me to visit him soon. We talked about logistics for the funeral service and agreed to speak again once he approached Alton with my request.
Later that day my phone rang again, and I learned we were a go for our meeting. It turns out I kind of knew Alton. Older men in our town drive around incessantly, and I recognized Alton as the driver of an old Ford Taurus. He had been a resident of our town’s assisted living facility for some months, so I had seen him there from time to time, although I do not think we ever had a proper introduction.
I knocked on Alton’s door at the home and introduced myself as the pastor. He was expecting my visit and offered me a seat by his bed. His belongings were few. He had some clothes and personal items. On the wall by his bed were a few picture frames. One had his birth certificate with a photo of himself from years ago taped onto it. Another had a clipping about his parents from a genealogy book. They were both born in Russia and immigrated to the Dakotas about a hundred years ago. They also both died young after bearing two children together, one of whom died as a little girl. The last picture frame had a standard portrait of Alton wearing his military service uniform.
I introduced myself and looked him over. The young man from the pictures was barely recognizable as the man presently before me was so thin. His eyes had sunk in some, and he labored to breathe. He could hear just fine, and his mind seemed sharp. I asked first about his physical condition. He knew he was dying and it was only a matter of time before he would. I then asked about his spiritual condition. Tears welled up in his eyes and he said he didn’t know. He said he was tired of being alone. He missed his parents.
I asked him if I could read something from the Bible. I turned to Acts 2 and shared Peter’s message. I like to share this text with people because it has everything in it: the gospel, an audience of people who had rejected Christ, and an invitation to respond. I told Alton that the same message applies to him and to me. Jesus is Lord, and God has promised forgiveness of sins when we repent and believe in his name. I asked him if he knew what repentance would be like for him. He told me about his time in Sunday school at our church, holding class way up in the attic above the baptistery. He said he had heard about Jesus before, but he just never trusted in him. I told him it is never too late. I told him that I would be happy to give an example of what repentance, confession, and belief looks like. I then prayed aloud for him to hear. As he cried, he prayed after me. It was a simple prayer. It was a good prayer. Best of all it was a sincere prayer.
For the first time in my presence Alton smiled. He talked about being with his family again after all this time apart. I told him that when the people heard and responded to Peter’s message, Peter said that they should be baptized. I explained that baptism was God’s way of confirming his adoption of someone new into his family and likewise Alton’s way of expressing his newfound faith to both God and others. He said he would like to be baptized. I asked him if it would be okay for me to invite our church to join him. He asked if I thought people would come. I assured him that they would.
I could tell our time together had made Alton exhausted, so I told him I would let him get some rest. Before leaving, though, I asked him if he had any questions for me. He said he had one, but it probably wasn’t for me. He said, “do you think God will hold it against me? All I’ve done?” I told him I’d be happy to answer that. I told him that we use the word forgiveness a lot without appreciating what it really means. When God forgives he takes on the responsibility for our actions. We don’t deserve that. It makes no sense. But love and grace are never about what is deserved or what makes good sense. I told Alton that God has clothed him Christ, and there is no condemnation now for him.
In the days that followed we setup Alton’s baptism. I invited our church, worked with the staff at the facility, and most importantly checked in with Alton a few times to go over everything and made sure he had no concerns. When the day came Alton was nervous, and he still wondered if people would come. Our baptism was a little irregular that Sunday afternoon. We were not in a lake or river. We were not even in an indoor baptistery, and his body was too frail to be immersed. Instead, we gathered in a bathing room that housed a large bathtub for the residents of the home. The staff wheeled Alton to the tub and he was able to get in it himself. They prepared a pitcher of warm water for me. Several of our church members as well as other of Alton’s friends and neighbors packed into that little room. I went through the creed with Alton. At every chance he spoke more loudly than I had heard before, “Yes, I believe.” And then the time came for me to baptize him, covering his body from head to toe in the water that symbolizes new life.
After he was dried off and placed back in his room I stopped by to see him and make sure everything went okay. He cried and said he was overwhelmed. He did not know he had so many friends. I told him that God has a big family, and in God’s family there are no orphans.
That was the last time he really spoke to me. A little over a week later, after I returned from a trip out of town, I saw him again. His body was even smaller than before. His eyes were jaundiced. He could hardly speak, and what he did say made little sense. He was dying. And he knew it. But he wasn’t alone. Dear friends and neighbors of his stayed at his side, and he passed later that same day.
His memorial service was earlier this week. I did not know Alton well, but I told him on his deathbed that I would never forget him. As a pastor I share the gospel often, and Alton was a great reminder that it really is good news. At Alton’s memorial service one passage stood out to me as a fitting one to share with those gathered: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:18). Jesus speaks these words about coming to his followers through the Holy Spirit. The word Jesus uses to describe the Spirit is “advocate,” or literally one who comes alongside someone else. When infants would cry, their “advocate” would come alongside them to nurture them. I do not know much about orphans, but I imagine many of them cry and cry and cry as infants with no one to come alongside them. But Jesus promises he will not leave his people as orphans, he will come to them.
It may have taken a little more than 78 years, but Jesus finally came to Alton. He is an orphan no more.
After our small talk Harvey appeared a little nervous. He had a request of me, and I could tell it troubled him. It took him a while to get to it, but in so many words he was visiting on behalf of a friend of his. Years ago they lived under the same roof as he was growing up. His friend, Alton, was orphaned as a teenager. His grandparents were members of our church years ago, so Alton, now suffering from terminal cancer, thought our church would make a fitting host for his funeral service with the pastor officiating.
I thought to myself that none of these requests should make anyone nervous. I told Harvey that our church is quite hospitable when it comes to funerals, and I always counted that to be one of our strengths. Harvey stopped me and revealed what he thought was a problem. Alton lived a rough life. He struggled with alcohol abuse. He was not religious in any measurable way. Harvey was a bit perplexed about people using a church building after death when they did not make much use of it during their lifetime.
I told Harvey I understood his concern, because I knew he meant well. I then asked him what he understood about Alton’s faith. The talkative man in my living room was now quiet. After a pause in the conversation, he looked at me and said he did not know. I told him we better find out, so I told him to ask Alton if it would be okay for me to visit him soon. We talked about logistics for the funeral service and agreed to speak again once he approached Alton with my request.
Later that day my phone rang again, and I learned we were a go for our meeting. It turns out I kind of knew Alton. Older men in our town drive around incessantly, and I recognized Alton as the driver of an old Ford Taurus. He had been a resident of our town’s assisted living facility for some months, so I had seen him there from time to time, although I do not think we ever had a proper introduction.
I knocked on Alton’s door at the home and introduced myself as the pastor. He was expecting my visit and offered me a seat by his bed. His belongings were few. He had some clothes and personal items. On the wall by his bed were a few picture frames. One had his birth certificate with a photo of himself from years ago taped onto it. Another had a clipping about his parents from a genealogy book. They were both born in Russia and immigrated to the Dakotas about a hundred years ago. They also both died young after bearing two children together, one of whom died as a little girl. The last picture frame had a standard portrait of Alton wearing his military service uniform.
I introduced myself and looked him over. The young man from the pictures was barely recognizable as the man presently before me was so thin. His eyes had sunk in some, and he labored to breathe. He could hear just fine, and his mind seemed sharp. I asked first about his physical condition. He knew he was dying and it was only a matter of time before he would. I then asked about his spiritual condition. Tears welled up in his eyes and he said he didn’t know. He said he was tired of being alone. He missed his parents.
I asked him if I could read something from the Bible. I turned to Acts 2 and shared Peter’s message. I like to share this text with people because it has everything in it: the gospel, an audience of people who had rejected Christ, and an invitation to respond. I told Alton that the same message applies to him and to me. Jesus is Lord, and God has promised forgiveness of sins when we repent and believe in his name. I asked him if he knew what repentance would be like for him. He told me about his time in Sunday school at our church, holding class way up in the attic above the baptistery. He said he had heard about Jesus before, but he just never trusted in him. I told him it is never too late. I told him that I would be happy to give an example of what repentance, confession, and belief looks like. I then prayed aloud for him to hear. As he cried, he prayed after me. It was a simple prayer. It was a good prayer. Best of all it was a sincere prayer.
For the first time in my presence Alton smiled. He talked about being with his family again after all this time apart. I told him that when the people heard and responded to Peter’s message, Peter said that they should be baptized. I explained that baptism was God’s way of confirming his adoption of someone new into his family and likewise Alton’s way of expressing his newfound faith to both God and others. He said he would like to be baptized. I asked him if it would be okay for me to invite our church to join him. He asked if I thought people would come. I assured him that they would.
I could tell our time together had made Alton exhausted, so I told him I would let him get some rest. Before leaving, though, I asked him if he had any questions for me. He said he had one, but it probably wasn’t for me. He said, “do you think God will hold it against me? All I’ve done?” I told him I’d be happy to answer that. I told him that we use the word forgiveness a lot without appreciating what it really means. When God forgives he takes on the responsibility for our actions. We don’t deserve that. It makes no sense. But love and grace are never about what is deserved or what makes good sense. I told Alton that God has clothed him Christ, and there is no condemnation now for him.
In the days that followed we setup Alton’s baptism. I invited our church, worked with the staff at the facility, and most importantly checked in with Alton a few times to go over everything and made sure he had no concerns. When the day came Alton was nervous, and he still wondered if people would come. Our baptism was a little irregular that Sunday afternoon. We were not in a lake or river. We were not even in an indoor baptistery, and his body was too frail to be immersed. Instead, we gathered in a bathing room that housed a large bathtub for the residents of the home. The staff wheeled Alton to the tub and he was able to get in it himself. They prepared a pitcher of warm water for me. Several of our church members as well as other of Alton’s friends and neighbors packed into that little room. I went through the creed with Alton. At every chance he spoke more loudly than I had heard before, “Yes, I believe.” And then the time came for me to baptize him, covering his body from head to toe in the water that symbolizes new life.
After he was dried off and placed back in his room I stopped by to see him and make sure everything went okay. He cried and said he was overwhelmed. He did not know he had so many friends. I told him that God has a big family, and in God’s family there are no orphans.
That was the last time he really spoke to me. A little over a week later, after I returned from a trip out of town, I saw him again. His body was even smaller than before. His eyes were jaundiced. He could hardly speak, and what he did say made little sense. He was dying. And he knew it. But he wasn’t alone. Dear friends and neighbors of his stayed at his side, and he passed later that same day.
His memorial service was earlier this week. I did not know Alton well, but I told him on his deathbed that I would never forget him. As a pastor I share the gospel often, and Alton was a great reminder that it really is good news. At Alton’s memorial service one passage stood out to me as a fitting one to share with those gathered: “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:18). Jesus speaks these words about coming to his followers through the Holy Spirit. The word Jesus uses to describe the Spirit is “advocate,” or literally one who comes alongside someone else. When infants would cry, their “advocate” would come alongside them to nurture them. I do not know much about orphans, but I imagine many of them cry and cry and cry as infants with no one to come alongside them. But Jesus promises he will not leave his people as orphans, he will come to them.
It may have taken a little more than 78 years, but Jesus finally came to Alton. He is an orphan no more.
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