This happened to my pastor from my high school days. Many years earlier, when he was fresh out of seminary, he took a job at a small church in Texas. Being from the Northeast, he wanted to fit in as much as possible, so he went along with the church’s customs and traditions, no matter how strange.
On this particular Sunday, the congregation met for a baptismal service at the home of a church member who had a swimming pool. The pastor was told to put on a wetsuit, I suppose so he wouldn’t get wet. He wanted to protest, but not wanting to make waves (no pun intended), he went along.
As he entered the pool, he immediately knew something was wrong. He began bobbing on the water’s surface! He could barely touch the bottom with his toes. The first person to be baptized slowly waded toward him. Here he was, floating in the center of the pool, frantically trying to stay upright, when he heard one of the elders whisper loudly to someone nearby.
“Oh, no! We forgot to let the air out!”
But it was too late. The pastor proceeded with the baptism as he normally did.
“Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God?” he asked the man standing before him.
“I do!” came the confident response.
With his right hand, he took hold of the man’s folded arms and put his left hand behind the man’s neck. He moved his arms to the left to immerse him in the water, promptly lost his footing, and they both went under with a big splash!