I have an abiding memory of sitting in the lap of great-aunt Myrtie Sewell on the bank of Anderson Creek up at Herman White’s place across the fields where the creek made a pool of clear, pure and very cold water. Other folks were spread out along the banks on quilts. They were there to baptize new believers from the first Baptist Church of Anderson, Alabama. I watched my parents, first Neil and then Doris receive the sacrament, that great sacrament our Lord himself practiced and proclaimed when the Kingdom came near.
My observation is that bad taste and bad theology come from a similar source. The culprits range from the vacuous on the left to pretensions on the right. Don’t take my word for it, you choose!