Baptism of the Lord C: Becoming

Butterfly and waterOLD TESTAMENT: Isaiah 43: 1-7

Read the Old Testament passage

This is another of Second Isaiah’s oracles of hope. It is essentially written with the idea that the divine calling of the prophet is to comfort all people. It is a clear pronouncement of God’s presence in Israel and with the people. This passage uses some clear language—created, formed, named—in both its opening and at the end. And in between this inclusio, of sorts, is a depiction of God’s redemption and salvation. It reminds us that God never leaves God’s people, that God is always and forever present with the ones that God created, offering them continued renewal, recreation, and redemption.

The central verses of today’s passage elaborate the nature of Israel’s redemption. Israel is named by God and belongs to God. Israel is redeemed not as a tool in God’s hand but as the beloved in a close relationship. References to the wealthiest nations of Africa at that time (Egypt, Ethiopia, and Seba) emphasize how precious Israel is to God. Israel’s redemption is not manipulated from afar by a distant deity but is experienced through the presence of God among them. Israel is not promised escape from the dangers of water and fire but that God will be with them in the midst of earthly trials. In this we hear echoes of the flood and the wilderness wanderings. But these verbs are in the present tense, reminding us of the past but also of God’s continued presence and continuing offering of redemption. God seeks to comfort the ones that God loves. Rather than judgment, the people are offered grace.

Remember that this part of Isaiah was probably written to exiled people as the time of exile was ending. It was an invitation to return home. So, from that standpoint, it echoes our own invitation to baptism and for us baptized, a reminder to remember the journey that we travel.

This is a wonderful passage to read in conjunction with the whole idea of Baptism. Through Jesus’ baptism, of which we will read in a moment, that same love is affirmed on an individual basis and is offered to all. For us, it is a reminder for us to envision that redemption as a part of our incarnation, a part of our formation. In essence we are living already redeemed, already loved and beloved, and already beyond what we think is possible. Ukranian / Russian philosopher Lev Shestov said that “It is only when [one] wishes the impossible that [he or she] remembers God. To obtain that which is possible, [one] turns to those like [him or herself].” Baptism is a reminder that we are more than what we imagine and that we connect with a God who is more than what we know and that, no matter what, God walks us through those waters toward redemption.

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What does that mean to live “already redeemed”?
  3. Do you think we really grasp God’s love for us? What stands in the way of our truly understanding that?
  4. What does it mean to live “beyond the possible”?

 

NEW TESTAMENT: Acts 8: 14-17

Read the passasge from The Acts of the Apostles

After the stoning of Stephen, the Greek-speaking believers fled Jerusalem to avoid arrest. Philip went to Samaria and through his preaching, a number of Samaritans became believers in Christ. Essentially, the spread of the Gospel was in full swing. The problem was that they had apparently gotten a little excited and perhaps ahead of themselves. So these people had been “baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ” but, supposedly had not received the Holy Spirit. (Although, I’m not sure how they were able to measure that! Perhaps they were just making sure they had said the words right.) So when the apostles arrive, they prayed that the Samaritan believers would be given the Holy Spirit (assuming, of course, that that had not happened before). Here, Baptism is essentially a technical term for “immersion” into the full person of God—the Father, the Son, & the Holy Spirit. But now, these believers have also received the Spirit (Whew!).

As odd as this Scripture is, it is reminding us that Baptism cannot be separated from formation. Even when we baptize infants, there is an understanding that formation has begun, that the Holy Spirit has begun to be a part of their lives. It is more than just saying that one believes in God. At all stages of formation, Baptism, the Spirit, and formation cannot be separated. Baptism alone does not make a relationship with God; it is rather an ongoing and continual growth toward oneness with God.

Keep in mind that all through the Book of Acts, these new believers are sort of in “transition”. They knew they had something but they didn’t know what it was or what to do with it. (Perhaps they are not that different from us!) But once it was clarified that this baptism was in the name of Jesus, they understood. This understanding prompts the Holy Spirit. This, though, does not presume a formal relationship between Baptism and the reception of the Holy Spirit. The liturgy is not a magical potion but, rather, a proclamation of what God has done and what God is doing. Baptism is more than about individual experiences. It is, rather, an extension of what God is doing in the world.

Interestingly, a large part of our understanding of baptism is formulaic—“I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”. They cannot be separated. (The main part of the reason the United Methodists do not “accept” the baptism of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints has to do with this formula. The LDS baptism is done in the name of Jesus and at that point membership is confirmed. The Holy Spirit is a gift to the baptized that comes AFTER baptism.)

But maybe the conversation needs to include less about what we do and more about what God does. Ultimately, God does the work of conversion rather than us. We can proclaim, we can pray, and we can cultivate spiritual practices. I suppose, sadly, we can even scare people into coming to the altar, holding out some sort of God-forsakenness in an unbaptized existence. But when it’s all said and done, it is God and God alone who converts us. We are invited into what God has already done and what God continues to do. We are invited into transformation.

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What happens if we lose the “formation” part of our Baptismal language?
  3. In what ways do you think we typically “misunderstand” baptism?
  4. What affect does that understanding of baptism have on the church itself?
  5. How do we typically understand the presence of the Holy Spirit in baptism?
  6. How do you think we typically understand God’s work in baptism?

 

 

GOSPEL: Luke 3: 15-17, 21-22

Read the Gospel passage

The early part of the Gospel According to Luke is filled with “expectation-building”. The writer relates the story of Jesus’ birth, his early trip to Jerusalem, and the arrival of John the Baptizer. I think on some level, the writer of Luke is building to this moment—birth, formation, and life in its fullest, creation, redemption, and eternal life. John replies to the expectations of the people by telling them that someone greater than he is coming. This message is shared by all three synoptic Gospels, but the reply concerning the threshing floor occurs only in Matthew and Luke. The Baptist mentions the baptism of the Holy Spirit and fire.

The seriousness of baptism is made clear by the metaphor of the threshing floor. This is not an act to undergo lightly. We do not believe that it just something that we have to do; it is instead linked to salvation. It is inclusive. We are judged, we are redeemed, and we are given the gift of life. It is not merely a rite of the church. It is the active work of God. And, notice, that even this very human Jesus, Son of God though he was, could not baptize himself. It is a communal act. We are all part of something bigger than ourselves.

And then the heaven is opened and the Holy Spirit descends. All of heaven spills into the earth. (What a mess THAT probably makes!) The two can no longer be separated. Like the passage from Isaiah depicts, God is with us. This is the inauguration of Jesus’ kingship. Finally, there is room. Eternity dawns in this moment. “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And the work begins.

This story of Jesus’ Baptism calls us to remember our own. It, too, is our beginning as the gift of God’s grace washes away those things that impede our relationship with God and gives us new birth, new life. And it calls us to do something with our life. But I actually don’t remember the day of my baptism. It happened when I was a little over seven months old, on Palm Sunday, April 15, 1962. It was at First United Methodist Church, Brookshire, TX and Rev. Bert Condrey was the officiant. I had a special dress and lots of family present. That would be all I really know.

And yet we are reminded to “remember our baptism”. What does that mean for those of us who don’t? I think “remembering” is something bigger than a chronological recount of our own memories. It is bigger than remembering what we wore or where we stood or who the actual person was that touched our head with or even immersed us in water. It means remembering our very identity, our creation, what it is that made us, that collective memory that is part of our tradition, our liturgy, our family.

That is what “remembering” our baptism is. It’s not just remembering the moment that we felt that baptismal stream; it is remembering the story into which we entered. It is at that point that the Christian family became our own as we began to become who God intends us to be. And for each of us, whether or not we noticed it, the heavens spilled into the earth and the Holy Spirit emerged. And we, too, were conferred with a title. “This is my child, my daughter or son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

And in that moment, whether we are infants or older, we are ordained for ministry in the name of Jesus Christ. We are ordained to the work of Christ and the work of Christ’s church. Caroline Westerhoff says that “at baptism we are incorporated into Christ’s body, infused with Christ’s character, and empowered to be Christ’s presence in the world. [So then], ministry is not something in particular that we do; it is what we are about in everything we do.” (in Calling: A Song for the Baptized, by Caroline Westerhoff, p. xi) In other words, our own Baptism sweeps us into that dawn that Jesus began. And, like Jesus, our own Baptism calls us and empowers us to empty ourselves before God. As we begin to find ourselves standing in those waters with Christ, we also find ourselves ready to be followers of Christ.

You are part of something beyond yourself, beyond what you know, and beyond what you can remember. Rainer Maria Rilke once said that “the future enters into us, in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens.” Your past now reaches far back before you were here and your future is being transformed and redeemed in you even as we speak.

 

I’ve heard that Martin Luther, the great Protestant Reformation leader, passionately reminded people to “Remember your baptism!” I can’t remember my own baptism. It happened in Canton, Ohio, at St. Joseph’s Church, when I was only two weeks old. But I think Luther meant something bigger than our historical memory of one day. And I have a feeling he wasn’t just talking about dressing up in a pretty white dress or suit, having a party and, if we’re a baby, everyone saying how sweet we look. In his catechism, Luther wrote, “A truly Christian life is nothing else than a daily baptism once begun and ever to be continued.” I think Martin Luther wanted us to remember each day who we are, and whose we are, and how beloved we are. Even in an age when we spend so much time talking about “self esteem,” don’t we still long to hear that we are beloved? (From a reflection on this week’s lectionary by Kate Huey, available at http://www.ucc.org/worship/samuel/january-10-2010.html, accessed 6 January, 2010.)

 

After he was baptized, Jesus stood, dripping wet, to enter his ministry. The heavens opened up and poured into the earth. All of humanity was there in that moment—those gone, those to come. We now stand, wet with those same waters, as we, too, are called into ministry in the name of Christ. Then…it is up to you to finish the story. This day and every day, remember your baptism, remember that you are a daughter or son of God with whom God is well pleased and be thankful. You are now part of the story, part of this ordering of chaos, part of light emerging from darkness, part of life born from death. You are part of God’s re-creation. And it is very, very good. Go and do likewise.

 

  1. What meaning does this hold for you?
  2. What meaning does this shed on your own baptism?
  3. What meaning does this hold for your own spiritual journey?
  4. What does it mean to be “beloved”, to see yourself as a daughter or son of God?
  5. What does it mean to imagine that God is indeed “well pleased” with you?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

The soul must long for God in order to be set aflame by God’s love; but if the soul cannot yet feel this longing, then it must long for the longing. To long for the longing is also from God. (Meister Eckhart)

 

What we are looking for on earth and in earth and in our lives is the process that can unlock for us the mystery of meaningfulness in our daily lives. It has been the best-kept secret down through the ages because it is so simple. Truly, the last place it would ever occur to most of us to find the sacred would be in the commonplace of our everyday lives and all about us in nature and in simple things.   (Alice O. Howell, The Dove in the Stone)

 

You are destined to fly, but that cocoon has got to go! (Nelle Morton)

 

 

Closing

Invite people to renew their Baptism by saying to each other. “Remember who and whose you are, God’s beloved daughter with whom God is well pleased.”

 

Think about it…Jesus was still wet with water after John had baptized him when he stood to enter his ministry in full submission to God. As he stood in the Jordan and the heavens spilled into the earth, all of humanity stood with him. We now stand, wet with those same waters, as we, too, are called into ministry in the name of Christ. As we emerge, we feel a cool refreshing breeze of new life. Breathe in. It will be with you always. Then…it is up to you to finish the story. Then…the journey begins. So remember who and whose you are. Remember your baptism and be thankful for it is who you are.

 

Wash, O God, our sons and daughters, where your cleansing waters flow. Number them among your people bless as Christ blessed long ago. Weave them garments bright and sparkling; compass them with love and light. Fill, anoint them; send your Spirit, holy dove, and heart’s delight.

 

We who bring them long for nurture; by your milk may we be fed. Let us join your feast, partaking cup of blessing, living bread. God, renew us, guide our footsteps, free from sin and all its snares, one with Christ in living, dying, by your Spirit, children, heirs.

 

O how deep your holy wisdom! Unimagined, all your ways! To your name be glory, honor! With our lives we worship, praise! We your people stand before you, water-washed and Spiritborn. By your grace, our lives we offer. Recreate us; God, transform!

(Ruth Duck, “Wash, O God, Our Sons and Daughters”, The United Methodist Hymnal, #605)

Easter 6B: Abide

 

Power-of-His-PresenceFIRST READING: Acts 10: 44-48

To read the Lectionary passage from Acts, click here

Backing up just a little bit, Peter has summarized Jesus’ earthly ministry in the preceding verses. In verse 38, he tells the crowd that in Jesus’ baptism, God anointed him with the Holy Spirit and with power. But then the Holy Spirit comes, as a “gift” on all who were there listening to him speak. But what is surprising to those good circumcised believers that are standing there listening, the ones who have done everything right, the ones who have followed all of the religious rules, is that the Spirit comes upon all who are present—even on the Gentiles.

Here, “speaking in tongues” is a sign of the presence of the Spirit. The pouring out of the Spirit and baptism are closely associated in Acts and Baptism follows the coming of the Spirit. Peter’s question is an important one: If someone has received the Holy Spirit, if God has somehow compelled someone to come forth, if God has somehow some way shown up in their life, then how can we withhold baptism? So he orders them to be baptized under his authority.

Once again, the coming of the Spirit was sudden and unexpected—and unplanned as to who was going to receive it! This now removes any lingering doubt that the Kingdom of God was open to Gentiles and others. The idea of “speaking in tongues” is sort of foreign to us. We’re not really sure to what this was actually referring. Clearly there is language content, but, like the Pentecost experience, perhaps it has more to do with listening than the actual speaking. Once again, the writer of Acts focuses on hospitality and welcome. This speaks loudly to those that are more comfortable with God’s grace being carefully mediated to those that have done everything right.

But the point is that, in all honesty, these people that were of Jewish descent that have become a part of this new Christian movement had already begun to define and limit what the movement was about. So, they were utterly astounded when suddenly Gentiles started showing up with evidence that somehow God had burst into their life. On his blog, Episcopal priest Rick Morley writes a reflection on this passage:

In other words, they have no clue. They have no idea what God is doing, what God is capable of, or who God is able to reach. Instead of being open to the infinite possibilities of God they are closed-minded, thinking that the only way to God is a way that looks like the way that they came to God. As if God can’t be reached by other routes. As if their understanding of God is the only right way. The only possible way.

Of course, this is the quintessential struggle in the New Testament Church between Jewish and Gentile Christianity. The question, “Can one follow Jesus without also being Jewish,” sat over the nascent church like a wet blanket. But, of course, this is also the quintessential struggle of the church today. Most of us can’t imagine a church, or “doing church,” differently than what we have already. As our rolls and pews slowly empty out, we talk about “tweaking this” and “tweaking that.” We’ll add a few drums and post what we’re doing to Facebook. Because that’ll draw them in.

And so, what we have in the Book of Acts is a glimpse into a mirror. Just like the first Church couldn’t see the reign of God past their own paltry view of the possibilities, neither can we. Towards the end of the third chapter of Paul’s Letter to Ephesians, we see a glimmer of someone who “gets it”: Glory to God, whose power working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. (Ephesians 3:28)

It’s like when we look out into the world around us, we see just a sliver—just the tiniest wedge of possibilities. But, God sees the whole sky. The whole infinite expanse of the universe brimming with possibilities. New things to be done. New people to be reached with His love. New ways to crash the reign of God into creation. What gives me the slightest glimmer is that the church in Acts was “astounded.” At least they weren’t “disgusted,” or “dismayed.”

Sometimes when I hear prophets and dreamers in our own day spin visions of what the church can become, the reaction I see is disgust and dismay. I think we need to summon the ability to see the world, the church, and our lives from God’s perspective. We need to pray for that. And then work to make it happen. But, if we’re unable to do that—and I admit that it’s a large task—then at least we need to recapture the ability to be “astounded” when God begins to do something new in our midst, and breathes life into these dry bones we’re always rattling. (From “Even Astonished”, by Rick Morley, May 1, 2012, available at http://www.rickmorley.com/archives/1585, accessed 9 May, 2012.)

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. How does this speak to our churches today?
  3. How does this speak to our world today?
  4. What meaning does this passage bring to baptism for you?
  5. When are you “astounded” by God?

 

 

NEW TESTAMENT: 1 John 5: 1-6

To read the Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

This passage sort of repeats the same theme that we found in the Acts passage—that all who believe are adopted children of God. The mark of loving God and obeying God is not “burdensome”, for we are given the power that compels us to follow God and to love our fellow brothers and sisters. To believe in Jesus as the Son of God is at the very core of our faith and through this faith, God reigns.

As people come to Christ, come to God, God’s power is shown more widely throughout the world. And through the mention of water and blood, we are reminded that Jesus experienced both baptism and crucifixion. The Spirit was part of both of these events and is continually present as the soul of the church.  The writer goes on into the following verses and tells us that there are three things that together testify to our belief in Jesus Christ: Holy Spirit at work in the community, Baptism, and Crucifixion as shown in the Eucharist. This is probably a statement against those who believe that Jesus came by water but not through the Spirit that was present in other ways. They were perhaps espousing that Jesus, as God, did not really die, denying Jesus’ very humanness, denying that Jesus was one of us.

The passage depicts love as obedience to God. I don’t think it means that our obedience proves our love for God but rather that if we love God and abide in God’s love, then our obedience to God, our listening to who we are and who we are called to be, is what we do. In essence, our love for God leads us to do nothing less. We tend to think of “obedience” in a bad way, as something that in some way makes us do something other than we want, other than we would do naturally. But here, obedience to God is actually being who we are, tapping into the real us, the real love of God at our very core of being and then living that out in every aspect of our lives. Every aspect of Jesus’ life was for God and for us. We are called to be and do no less.

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What happens if we deny Jesus’ humanness?
  3. What does “obedience” to God mean to you?
  4. What would it mean for you for every aspect of your life to be for God and for others?

 

GOSPEL: John 15: 9-17

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

Jesus continues to prepare his disciples for his physical departure from them. In last week’s passage, he told them that he is the true vine, God’s agent, and that they are the fruit. They represent him in the world—to bear fruit, to do in his name. This is how God’s power will be extended among humans. Jesus has loved them as God has loved them. They are continuing to love him by being obedient to his commandments, to continue to be in a loving relationship with God even after Jesus is gone. This is the kind of love that leads to ultimate joy. Jesus is the model for our behavior and Jesus is the one that loves others so much that he gave his life for them.

The word servant is difficult for us, but to be a servant of God was an honor in Old Testament times. Jesus, then, had chosen these and appointed them to see converts who would be servants. And Jesus depicts what happens when this great love is fulfilled—the fruit of love is abundant joy. The goal, then, is not purity or spotlessness, but a joy that fulfills itself in love.

The way that Jesus addresses the issue of status is interesting. Essentially, the image of servant is abandoned in favor of one of abiding friendship. While the language of serving and servitude has dominated Christian tradition, this little correction deserves more reflection. Perhaps it means that God does not want slaves but, rather companions. It creates a different model of spirituality. Of course friendship also means letting the other be and acknowledging that otherness in its integrity and sacredness. Certainly there is no thought of ‘pocketing’ God or Jesus in a way which reduces either – a kind of power-play which makes them manageable (pocket-able and in my control). Some people either want to dominate or be dominated. They live lives as if it is either-or. The model here is different. It does not compromise the integrity or holiness of the other, but affirms companionship in such holiness. We are not just asked to be friends; we are friends for a purpose; we are friends to bear fruit in Christ.

And, once again, if we love God, if we abide in God, we will keep God’s commandment. It will not be merely that we choose to do so. God chose us. And as children of God, we can do nothing else. It is who we are. From that standpoint, “disobedience” to God is not just doing wrong. It’s more than just ignoring the speed limit. Rather, it is not being and living out who we are. It is being someone other than who God made us to be. It means that we love God and that we love each other. It means that we are no longer estranged from God are separated from others. It calls us all to the table and invites us to sit down and share a meal. No one is excluded. No one is left out.  No one is waiting in the wings wondering if they will be welcomed or shunned. Emily Dickinson once said, “my friends are my estate.” In other words, those with whom we share our lives ARE our lives. Love them as you love your life. Love them the way that Jesus loved. Love them enough that when the chips are down, you can do no other than to love them more than life itself. It is that kind of love that IS fruit, that IS life. It is the love into which God calls us.

In Scripture, hospitality reflects a larger reality than mere survival. It links us to each other and to God. It is understood as a way of meeting and receiving holy presence. Sure it was risky, probably even more risky than it is today, but it was the expectation. It was what we are called to do—to meet God in every face we encounter. It doesn’t mean that we all have to like each other or even get along. A stranger is still a stranger. But we are called to recognize that running beneath all of our lives is a common humanity and a common Creator. It’s not about overcoming differences but rather transcending them and being reconciled to one another in love. And our love for each other is a reflection of our love for God. And letting each of us be who we are is letting God be God.

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What does this “friendship” in and with Christ mean for you?
  3. How does that change our relationship to God?
  4. What would the world look like if we loved each other more than life itself?
  5. How does this speak to the commonly-used phrase “a personal relationship in Jesus Christ”?
  6. What does this say about hospitality?
  7. What if we had that same “expectation” of hospitality as we find in Scripture?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

Today we are bombarded with a theology of certitude. I don’t find much biblical support for the stance of “God told me and I’m telling you, and if you don’t believe as I do, you’re doomed.” A sort of “My God can whip your god” posture. From Abraham, going out by faith not knowing where he was being sent, to Jesus on the cross, beseeching [God] for a better way, there was always more inquiring faith than conceited certainty. (Will D. Campbell)

My business is not to remake myself, but to make the absolute best of what God made. (Robert Browning)

 

We are what we repeatedly do. (Aristotle)

 

 

Closing

Close by reading the words of “The Servants Song” (Richard Gillard, in The Faith We Sing, # 2222):

Brother, sister, let me serve you, let me be as Christ to you; pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant, too.

We are pilgrims on a journey; we’re together on this road. We are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christlight for you in the night-time of your fear; I will hold my hand out to you, speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping; when you laugh, I’ll laught with you. I will share your joy and sorrow till we’ve seen this journey through.

 

When we sing to God in heaven, we shall find such harmony, born of all we’ve known together of Christ’s love and agony.