I’ve recently noticed a new trend among Church members which is congratulating 8 year old children on their “choice” to be baptized. This has become the go-to way of describing a child’s baptism. I’m not sure when this came into the Mormon parlance, and one could argue the merits of this approach. Do children feel more empowered by this word choice, an acknowledgement that they are growing up? Or do they feel gaslit, like someone’s trying to convince them they have a choice when they really don’t? Do their feelings change with age or does their young age make a lasting impression not easily overturned with time?

I did not choose to be baptized.

Don’t get me wrong; as an eight year old, I was ultimately persuaded to go along with it. I wanted to please my family. All my closest friends were at Church. But let’s be honest; I didn’t really have a choice in the matter because I was a dependent child at the time. What was I going to do? Move out and get an apartment? I recall my feelings at the time with perfect clarity. I remember that the entire idea of being immersed in water in front of a group of onlookers was absolutely terrifying to me. When my parents brought up my impending baptismal date, I burst into tears in our white station wagon and begged my family not to make me do this. My parents were alarmed at my sudden disobedience, and tried to cajole and reassure me.

They also wanted my brother who was ten years older to perform the baptism, which terrified me almost as much as the public spectacle. Honestly, this was a non-starter to me; I did not trust my brother in water at all. My only experience with him in water was at the swim club we belonged to, him teasing me, splashing water in my face, and dunking me until I came up gasping for air [1]. He was a notorious prankster with occasional forays into bullying. I was convinced that he would hold me under the water and not let me up, that maybe this was how I would die. I could tell that my brother was disappointed and embarrassed by my unwillingness, but aside from my fears, I also felt like this request made me a prop in his personal path rather than the one undertaking a step toward adulthood. The more my parents pushed, the more I felt that once again, boys mattered more, a fact that I felt was made clear to me repeatedly growing up. I was standing in the way of his personal growth milestone. I was supposed to be an object in his story. My agency was doubly not important.

My parents finally relented in the pressure about my brother and agreed with my repeated pleas for my dad to baptize me instead. I trusted my dad in the water. He taught me to swim. He was fun in the water and didn’t play mean pranks. He wouldn’t let me get hurt. But this parental concession was also designed to eliminate all my objections, even though it only addressed one of them. If they gave in on this one point, I needed to get in line.

Since they made girls wear a dress to be baptized at this time, at least in our ward, I was afraid the dress would float on the water, and everyone would see my underpants. My mom told me to tuck the dress between my legs as I got in the water, which wasn’t that easy while descending stairs [2]. I didn’t want to be embarrassed, and I didn’t want to be the center of attention. I didn’t want the other kids to tease me if something went wrong.

I weirdly had some anxiety around the fact that my birthday was two days before my baptism, meaning that for two whole days I was at risk of something, dying in a car accident before being baptized maybe. I would exist in a limbo, a no-man’s land, a purgatory on earth. And what about the time period between my baptism and the confirmation which would be the following day during sacrament meeting. I’d be baptized, but not confirmed, so did it really count? What was my status exactly? A member of the Church, or an almost member? Nobody seemed as concerned about these legalistic questions as I was. How was I supposed to win at baptism if the rules weren’t completely clear?

I’m sure my parents also wanted to avoid embarrassment if I couldn’t be persuaded. They didn’t want to have to explain repeatedly why I was not baptized. They didn’t want to explain, on some level, why my brother wasn’t performing the ordinance, and they also probably wanted to use my ordinance to reinforce his commitment to the Church, to make it more likely he would go on a mission. I was too young at the time to consider such things.

My best friend, who often attended Church with me, was not baptized. Her mother had left the Church, and her post-Mormon policy was that her daughters could be baptized if they chose, but only at age 18, not as children. She might have been taking a page from the Amish playbook since we lived in rural PA, surrounded by Amish and Mennonite families. Similar to Mormons, the Anabaptists objected to infant baptism, instead believing that one could only make such a decision after a confession of faith (for Amish & Mennonites between age 16 and 19). But, as my friend’s mom noted, 8 is not 18 in terms of our ability to make an informed decision about something.[3]

The Amish have an extremely high retention rate, though, which goes to another aspect of freedom to choose. The current rate is 85-90%, and as you might surmise, it is higher the more isolated the community is. Rumspringa is an Amish & Mennonite activity young people can do to leave their community and experience life in a non-Amish setting before they make their decision. Different sects allow different levels of freedom in their Rumspringa, with generally more freedom for those in larger communities than in small sects; some Rumspringa is kind of like EFY, whereas others experience something more like what’s depicted in reality shows. If you were raised Amish, you probably did not attend public school, and Amish education in most sects ends at 8th grade. You don’t own or know how to use technology. You haven’t worn secular, store-purchased clothing during your lifetime. Every aspect of your life revolves around the farm or a family trade, and you eat every meal with your family and your community. If you choose to leave before baptism, you are not automatically shunned as you have not made a commitment, but your family may not allow you to live at home if you are in violation of community rules against technology use, like cars, phones, and computers.

So, is it a choice if your ability to say no is restricted? Some church leaders have said that yes, you made the “choice” to do everything the Church says for the rest of your life (in this case, going on a mission as a young man) if you “chose” to be baptized at age 8. Lest you think this guy is some rogue rando, the same sentiment has been expressed by E. Bednar. The more parents attempt to control the choices of their children, the less it is a choice. This is also true when the pressures that eliminate choice are from other factors, including the Church itself. Poverty restricts choice. Financial dependence restricts choice. Physical intimidation or abuse restricts choice. Psychological trauma restricts choice. Social pressure (whether praising or shaming) influences choice. Mental health impacts choice. Isolation restricts choice. The fact that the human brain doesn’t fully develop until one’s early 20s also alters choice.

Reframing a child’s baptism as a “choice” could be seen as a positive in reminding the child that they have a choice, but if they don’t really have a choice (as I didn’t, as I would posit no 8 year old child has), then it’s kind of a manipulation to imply they made the choice, implying that they bear sole responsibility for it, and that it’s binding on them for life.

  • Does calling a child’s baptism a choice lead to positive outcomes or negative outcomes in the long run?
  • Do you think 8 year olds have the freedom to choose baptism?
  • Did you want to be baptized at age 8?
  • Is this language a new trend?

Discuss.

[1] When I got Covid (class of Delta variant), my first thought was that it was exactly the same sensation as highly chlorinated pool water in my nose. Even before the test, I knew I had it as soon as that unique nasal burning happened.

[2] And yes, the dress floated.

[3] If I were held to choices I made at age 8, I’d still think a severed chicken foot makes a swell romantic gift.