by Deacon Mary Stoneback, Synod Minister for Strategic Communications & Events

While onsite this month preparing for the Rocky Mountain Synod Assembly (April 23–25) at Bethany Lutheran Church recently, I stumbled into a small, holy moment of hospitality—one that shimmered with water, vocation, and baptismal joy. 

It began at the church office entrance, where I met Michelle, a member of the sacristy team, arriving with what looked like the most ordinary thing: a bucket of cleaning supplies. “I’m helping get ready for Synod Assembly,” she told me, glancing at a bench near the entryway. “And those stains were bothering me—I just want it cleaned up before everyone comes.”

After introductions, she asked if I needed the bench. I moved my backpack off the bench, and our quick exchange became a conversation about all the behind-the-scenes work that turns a building into a welcome. Then Michelle paused. “Before we talk more,” she said, “could you help me carry something in?” Together we brought in a sheet of polycarbonate—covered and carefully measured. She led the way to the sanctuary, where she revealed her real excitement: replacing the old protective cover over the baptismal font with a new, crystal-clear sheet. “This has been on my list for a long time,” she said as she began peeling the protective film from both sides. “We lift the cover on Sundays—for baptisms, and when people come by to remember their baptism. But if it’s not covered the rest of the time—too easy for bugs and dirt to build up.”

When she set the new sheet in place, her face brightened. Beneath the clear surface, the water caught the light—clean, still, and gleaming. “Look at that,” she said, smiling. “You can really see the water now.” For Michelle, the font isn’t just a fixture—it’s a gathering place. “One of my favorite things is when all the children come up for baptisms,” she said. “Their faces—just awe. It reminds me of my own baptism, and how important this is for everyone.”

Even the way she found the polycarbonate felt like a story of vocation—God working through everyday errands. While her car was in the shop, Michelle mentioned the font cover to her mechanic. “He told me about a glass shop nearby,” she said. “They had a remnant from another job, cut it to size, and—well—here we are.” Michelle shared how excited she and all at Bethany were to host this year's Synod Assembly, saying, "it's an honor to be able to welcome the synod to Bethany and has given us all something (in addition to Easter of course) to look forward to with great anticipation."

Preparing a Space to Remember Who We Are

As the synod gathers under the theme Vida en Cristo / Life in Christ, Michelle’s quiet project offers a living parable: baptism isn’t just something we remember—it’s a calling we live. In the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the baptismal covenant names this plainly: we are washed in grace and sent into a lifelong rhythm—among God’s people, nourished by Word and Supper, and then turned outward in witness, service, and justice. 

And that rhythm isn’t reserved for pastors, deacons, or “church professionals.” Lutheran tradition teaches that baptism gives every Christian a holy vocation—a calling lived out in work, relationships, and the ordinary places where love can take on flesh. In other words: a bucket of cleaning supplies can be ministry. A stained bench can become an act of welcome. A clear sheet of plastic—carefully carried, peeled, and placed—can help a whole assembly see the waters more clearly, and remember we belong to Christ, and Christ sends us. And that’s exactly what Michelle was doing—quietly, joyfully—preparing a space for the church to gather and preparing a sign of baptism to shine.