The Holy Spirit moves in mysterious ways—but if you ask certain members of the First Unaffiliated Missionary Temple of Sequatchie Crossing, it ought not move via massage jets.

This week’s spiritual stirrin’ began when Pastor Arnold Peeler proposed what he called “a modest modernization of the baptismal experience”—namely, converting the church’s immersion tub into what amounted to a Jacuzzi. He claimed it would enhance the symbolism of renewal and offer “relaxation in the Spirit.”

Now, for context, the current baptismal was installed in 1974 and last cleaned during the Clinton administration. It’s more galvanized than godly, and the heater makes a sound like a raccoon being baptized against its will. Still, it has history—and mildew—and that counts for something.

Pastor Peeler presented the idea at the Wednesday Night Business Meeting, flanked by a slideshow titled “Baptism in the 21st Century: Soaking in Salvation.” It featured photos of commercial spa units, one labeled “Heats to 104°F – Now with LED lighting.” Another slide compared the traditional tub to a horse trough “with fewer features and more algae.”

The proposal was met with what scholars might call ‘unholy skepticism.’

Sister Lila Mae “Hallelujah” Pruitt stood immediately and declared it “theologically suspect” and “one bubble away from backsliding.” She handed out pamphlets titled Spa Days and the Fall of Rome and began humming “Shall We Gather at the River” with a tone suggesting the river was boiling.

Boot Barnes pointed out that in 1932, they performed baptisms in the creek, and the only thing heated was the arguing. “If it was cold enough for Grandpa, it’s cold enough for us,” he declared. He then recounted (unprompted) the time his cousin slipped on a mossy rock mid-immersion and came up speaking in tongues—and not the kind you find in Corinthians.

Pastor Peeler and The Baptismal Jacuzzi Upgrade

Shelley Wexler, on the other hand, was thrilled. “Water holds memory,” she said. “Jets could activate generational healing.” She offered to infuse the tub with lavender, crystals, and affirmations whispered during the full moon. “We could even turn it into a full sensory rebirth ceremony,” she added, while misting eucalyptus oil into the air.

Trixie Jo Bartlett, age 9, asked if she could get baptized again “but with glitter bombs and fog machines.” Pastor Peeler asked for theological time to consider the request, though he admitted “it could draw youth engagement.”

As the discussion deepened, so did the absurdity. Cora Belle Fancher demanded the new tub be ADA-compliant, fragrance-free, and designed with “supportive lumbar seating.” She also asked if it could double as a foot soak station during Sunday socials.

The tech specs became the next point of contention. Doug ‘Doughboy’ Teeter offered to retrofit the tub with solar panels, Bluetooth speakers, and a touchscreen devotional playlist. “Just imagine being lowered into the water while ‘Oceans’ plays at 7.1 surround sound,” he said. He was met with blank stares and one audible gasp.

Clovis Strickland countered with a homemade diagram showing how the jets could be reverse-engineered into “a frequency-based surveillance system sponsored by the Vatican.” He claimed the bubbles could be used to transmit coded confessions to Rome.

Officer Kenny Joe Teeter, who was there to monitor parking but somehow became the moderator, declared that scripture didn’t specifically forbid bubbles but that “we ought to slow the roll on jets.” He then suggested a compromise that involved “modest turbulence and approved flow rates.”

Pastor Peeler and The Baptismal Jacuzzi Upgrade

The meeting nearly ended in full immersion when Sister Lila Mae and Shelley Wexler engaged in a heated debate over whether tea lights in the tub would invite angels or spirits “of a more mischievous variety.” A vote was called. Then retracted. Then tabled until next quarter.

In the end, no jets were installed. The church agreed to a “cosmetic refresh,” which included a new liner, non-slip steps, and a water filter named “Redemption” that promises “clarity of soul and sediment.” The new tub was blessed with equal parts prayer and diluted vinegar.

But the congregation remains split.

As of this writing, Sister Lila Mae has formed the Committee for Sacramental Simplicity, which meets in the basement with lanterns and hand fans. Meanwhile, Shelley Wexler is organizing an “Immersive Meditation Soak-In” at the riverbank with Tibetan chimes and herbal tea served from a bootleg Yeti cooler.

And Pastor Peeler? He was last seen browsing spa supplies online under the pseudonym “SpiritSoaker99.” Rumor has it he’s building a Pinterest board titled “Sanctified Spas.”

Conclusion