Baptism

Note and Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own the characters to M*A*S*H or anything that's in the Bible. Kinda figured I'd come with another story for the Padre, since I've been lazy about this board lately.

These have been some trying times for me indeed, as if the war was not enough for all of us.

As I sat in my tent, contemplating next Sunday's sermon (of which, I promised in Klinger's newspaper, M*A*S*H Notes, would be Baptist for those from the South), there had been so much commotion outside that I could not concentrate. Spring had finally comes in these last days of April, but the fighting had not ended (internally and externally). It had picked up the week before, because Seoul was being fought for still and the bitter war had yet to be over, and things had been busy. However, today had been a different story altogether, I'd say.

Frustrated with the lack of inspiration, I silently prayed to God that words would come to me soon, especially in a religion that did not come to me naturally. Then, putting those papers away for a moment, I glanced at a letter from my sister, Kathy. She was doing well at her Order, I supposed, but she was still thinking about leaving her sisters and becoming a real mother, this time to her own children and a husband who might love her…ghosts that might not exist if there was no man who loved her and vice versa. And there was no guarantee in that, I wanted to assure her. We thought that her calling was to God, not to man, and that she would settle well as a…well, a sister.

I am seeing many possibilities for Kathy, but it's difficult to write back when so much more is going on too, even with this sermon being on my mind too. In addition, so many more people depend on me for their religious needs, the orphans are clamoring for my attention and the inquiries into Captain Tuttle have been met with nothing. I mean, Colonel Blake said that he had breakfast with him this morning (this morning!), but could not recall what he looked like, when his shift is, where I could find him...

An idea hit me, something that had been since that first package came in. Although I do not want to voice it yet (and had for some time), it would be a wise idea to talk with the two people who seem to be the only ones who are capable of such a great act of charity.

Now with a good mission (and a distraction from the orphans, camps needs and Kathy), I took my hat, putting it on to clock out the sun before stepping out into the brightness of the new spring. However, before I could step another foot away from my door, a hand put itself in front of me, as if to stop me from going any further. When I went to see who could hinder a priest's mission, I saw that it was Major Burns that had run up to me. Unsurprisingly, he was angry and I knew who and why.

If I took another step, I would be jumping into what appeared to be a deep river, winding around the camp, from Rosie's and beyond!

"Careful where you walk, Padre," Major Burns said in a conspirator-like tone, lowering his voice when others ambled past with animation to its center source. "I don't want you falling into Pierce and McIntyre's latest silliness."

"What seems to be the problem with this…water in the middle of the camp, Major?" I asked very sweetly, trying to be innocent and figure out why there was water flowing freely from outside the camp (in an infinite direction) to the center, where there was a pool and a line of people, even Colonel Blake wit Radar with their usual paperwork and conversations. I could see a few figures there in charge, but could not see who they were.

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Major Burns screamed, pulling his hand from me and fingering his whistle around his neck. "It's those degenerates. They allow a cross-dressing corporal to walk over them and allow him to take over their perverted minds –"

"If I may, Major Burns," I interrupted gently as I saw one man dressed in Biblical clothing (and I knew it to be a man) take a handful of water and pour it on a nurse's head, like a initiation of some sort. "What exactly are Captains Pierce and McIntyre and Corporal Klinger up to?"

"Baptizing people, that's it!" Major Burns snorted, intent on leaving me to my thoughts (perhaps thinking of me an idiot, as always). As he walked away, he added, "This is going on report, I swear, Father! And it'll be a sorry day when they're in the stockade."

I had to disagree with Major Burns, even if it was silly of the three to play such, even for good intentions. When I peered closer though, walking behind another tent that was giving me clear view of the scene, I saw Klinger was the one dressed as one giving the baptisms. Hawkeye and Trapper were egging people on as they normally did, saying that Klinger (as John the Baptist, mind you) was willing to give new life and meaning to what war and peace was about. Water would cleanse them of their feelings, they added, and would allow them to be born again.

The way Hawkeye was saying (almost in a joking manner too) that water would give new life to them was something that made me ponder. Even though he was right, that baptism would take away the original sin that Eve bestowed upon all man (and women also), it was still baffling to see three men emphasize such a large, religious topic so openly. Even so, I never knew Klinger, Hawkeye and Trapper to use something like this so lightly. They were not godly people, as priests would say, but they had good intentions.

Would the waters that washed into the camp take away the sins of the personnel there, allowing God to forgive them though? Would He be so merciful as to allow these good people to do their jobs, in trying to save as many as they can from a war that took so much away, like homes, families and lives?

Kneeling next to this river, I came into full sight of everyone. When Trapper and Hawkeye saw me, they smiled as I threw my hat off and cupped my own hands into this water, bringing it to my head. I poured the cold water over my head, like a new baptism, a new life, had sprung into me as well as the others who had experienced it. Yes, we all could be forgiven and know that whatever we had to do in this awful place would never be held against us. Yes, we could all feel the love, peace and mercy that God can give to all of His people, whatever religion they may be.

And suddenly, as soon as that coldness dripped down my clothes, I knew what I could write…for that sermon, Kathy and even about Captain Tuttle and the orphans…and smiled.

Water…it cures all things, washes away dirt and lets us feel alive.

I went back to my tent, words now running through my mind. Thanking God (and Hawkeye, Trapper and Klinger), I sat down at my desk wet, pulling out first my sermon and dripping dots of water all of it. My letter to Kathy can wait, but those words and drops that now inspired me for this coming Sunday would be enough.