I think it was around middle school when I first started thinking of my brain as an entity somewhat separate from myself. I was naturally a good student and a friend of mine would constantly joke about coming in the night to steal my brain and therefore get my grades. My brain seemed a distinct part of me, like my arm or leg; it was me but it was also its own thing. It had functions such as holding information and spinning stories. And in most every way, it seemed an advantage to have.
I’m not completely sure when it started talking to me in unhelpful ways.
Somewhere along the line, the voices in my head that helped me write stories and think through problems started using their powers for evil. Did that really happen, my brain would ask me, or did you just dream it up? It wouldn’t pick at the big, important events; it would just question small details. Did Mom really tell you that, or did you make that up? Are you sure anyone would believe you if you said that out loud? No one else seems to remember that— you’re probably wrong. Your friends will think you’re stupid.
Tiny questions and doubts that on their own didn’t do much but together managed to chip away at the self-confidence that had seemed so effortless growing up. By college, it felt like my brain was some frenemy that might show its antagonistic side at any moment. It’s scary when you feel like you can’t trust yourself.
This has been a struggle for humans from sin’s entrance into the world. The first temptation humanity faced was the question, Did God really say? (Gen. 3:1b, NIV). It was a temptation to mistrust God, but it was also a seedling of doubt in our own perception and understanding of what God wanted for us. Did God really say that to benefit you? Is He leading you in the wrong direction? It’s the sort of question that seems to attack from every angle and can leave us feeling scared, isolated and alone.
I know my brain tells me things that aren’t real in those moments of anxiety and doubt. But I also know that those feelings of anxiety and uncertainty are real in those moments and have to be dealt with. I’ve had to work hard to learn how to navigate them and make them less frequent. Sometimes that work means trusting my instincts; sometimes it means leaning on other people. But when that seedling of doubt starts to grow and it makes us question even our mosted trusted confidants, God has another contingency plan in place. He gives us visible, physical reminders of His presence in our lives: the sacraments.
Sometimes, when things are common, we can forget how incredible they actually are. As adult Christians, we may interact with Holy Communion and Baptism enough to feel like they’re not really that special. Or perhaps your Baptism was so long ago that it feels firmly in the past. But the reality is, God uses the sacraments to show us time and again how real His love for us is. Week after week, God uses Communion to give us His gifts and fortify us against the struggles of this sinful existence. He looks at our doubts and worries and says here is a sign in front of your eyes that reminds you I am here. Here is bread and wine that you can taste and see. Here is water you can touch.
Growing up, I went to a Lutheran grade school. We had chapel once a week and at the end of the last chapel of every month, they would have every student whose baptism birthday was during that month come up to the front of the gym. A special candle would be lit and then, together as a school, we would then recite the words from the Rite of Baptism—
Do you renounce the devil?
Yes, I renounce him.
Do you renounce all his works?
Yes, I renounce them.
Do you renounce all his ways?
Yes, I renounce them.
Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth?
Yes, I believe in God.
Do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into hell. The third day he rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From thence he will come to judge the living and the dead?
Yes, I believe.
Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Christian Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting?
Yes, I believe.
(from the Lutheran Service Book)
As a child, I never really thought about why we did this. It seemed like it was just a different way of saying the oft-memorized Apostles Creed. Yet through this simple remembrance of our baptism, we were being reminded month after month that we do have a personal and real touchstone of our salvation. It was instilling in us that our baptism not only remained relevant, but remained true. We can point to the day of our baptism and say, Yes, I am a child of God. He loves me. No hesitation. No backpedaling.
Whether you were baptized as a baby and have no memory of that day or were old enough to know what was happening, your baptism was real. There were witnesses. There are probably pictures, maybe even a video. Your baptism was real. Your adoption as a daughter of God isn’t built on something invisible or just in your head. It happened out loud and with group participation. It involved real water and powerful words. Your baptism was real. Your baptism is real. It remains; it endures. It cannot be taken away from you.
So when the voices in the back of your mind whisper, Did God really say you’re His child? Did God really say He loves you? you don’t have to wonder if they could be right. You don’t have to white-knuckle your way through a bumbling defense of your faith or prove your worthiness. All you have to do is point to your baptism and say, Yes. God really did say that.
Because He really, truly did. And He really, truly does.
