See also my communion liturgy used on this Sunday.
The
Gospel reading this morning will be from a paraphrase of scripture,
Eugene Peterson's The
Message.
Hear now these words:
The interest of the
people by now was building. They were all beginning to wonder, “Could
this John be the Messiah?”
But John intervened:
“I am baptizing you here in the river. The main character in this
drama, to whom I'm a mere stagehand, will ignite the kingdom life, a
fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out.
He's going to clean house--- make a clean sweep of your lives. He'll
place everything true in its proper place before God; everything
false he'll put out in the trash to be burned.”
There was a lot more
of this--- words that gave strength to the people, words that put
heart in them. The Message!...
After all the people
were baptized, Jesus was baptized. As he was praying, the sky opened
up and the Holy Spirit, like a dove descending, came down on him. And
along with the Spirit, a voice: “You are my Son, chosen and marked
by my love, pride of my life.”
Sermon:
Marked by Love
Let us pray:
Patient teacher,
we praise you for your warm embrace,
that in the midst
of our fear and doubt, still youhope, remind us
of your most
important teaching: love.
May the words of
my mouth, and the meditations of all our hearts,
guide us all to
better understand this teaching.
In the name of
Jesus, whom you proclaimed your beloved. Amen.
My sister Kate, the
blonde one, really changed the way I look at baptism. It was early
two summers ago when we were at Norrisville United Methodist Church
and there was a baptism. Now, we were preacher's kids, and preacher's
kids who went to multiple services on a Sunday, so when the second
service rolls around, you pay a little less attention to what's going
on. I was goofing off a bit, but when I happened to look at my
sister, she was crying. Now Kate did not use to be a very emotional
person. For example: when she and I did a presentation on our mission
trip to Bosnia, I cried because the trip had been such a powerful
experience and I was so in love with the people we had met there. Her
reaction to my tears was to tell me in the car on the way to the next
service, “I hope you don't cry this time. That was embarrassing to
me.” Kate's a real sweet girl.
So
when I saw Kate was crying during the service, I thought she was sick
or something; I was very concerned and asked her what was wrong. She
said through her tears
that she just found moments like this baptism so beautiful because
they signify our family growing.
She was touched by the love in the room, the warmth and the smiles on
everyone's faces that just radiated the power of God's love.
I
don't think before this moment I really thought about or at least
felt baptism in this way. I confess that I am, to the chagrin of my
mother (who is a pastor), a bit of an anabaptist. Anabaptists believe
in re-baptism, that baptism should be something you choose as an
adult to signify your commitment to a new way of life. I also like
the idea of rebaptism because I always wanted to be baptized in a
river but can't because I have already been baptized. Total
immersion, the kind of baptism when you are dunked under water, just
seems very glamorous to me. Now, though there is merit to
anabaptist's focus on a ritual to signify a new commitment, less so
to my desire for glamor, I think my understanding of baptism before
seeing Kate cry missed the point of baptism. Baptism is less about us
and the work that we do to arrive at the point of making that
commitment to God and more about those words that were spoken as the
Holy Spirit descended like a dove upon Jesus on the day of his
baptism: “You
are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Or, as we read from The
Message this
morning, “You
are my Son, chosen and marked by my love.”
When we think of
baptism, we usually think more of washing away our sin than we think
of entering into a family. And of course, baptism does symbolize how
God cleanses us of our sin and offers us a new life. And baptism,
though we only do it once, symbolizes how God offers us new life
again and again throughout our lives. But the power of baptism is
that it doesn't just offer us a clean slate--- because, let's face
it, in The United Methodist church we often [but not exclusively, as
we will see today] baptize infants who do not need a clean slate at
that particular moment in their lives. The power of baptism is that
it marks us as beloved children of God, enveloping us in a love that
will never let us go.
Of
course, we are marked by God's love even without being baptized, but
baptism, like communion, is a physical reminder of God's claim on our
lives. In most Protestant churches, we celebrate two sacraments:
baptism and communion. [And today, at Deer Creek, we're celebrating
both!] Sacrament is a fancy word that means an “outward and visible
sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” And that definition I just
gave was a fancy definition that just means that it is a physical
mark that reminds us of God's love for us--- a love that has a past,
present, and future component to it. The liturgy tells the story of
our past, of those biblical moments that God has acted through water
or bread. We are anchored in the present by the physicality of the
act, the feeling of the water on our head, the bread in our mouths.
And in the practice, we are entering into a future moment, that
kingdom on Earth as it is in Heaven that Jesus talks about.1
So
this mark of love is a powerful thing, roots extending deep into our
history, branches touching us now, budding into something new as we
speak. But it is also a ridiculous claim, isn't it? Couldn't we just
say, “Oh, when we read Luke, God is talking about Jesus not all the
rest of us”? I just jumped to a big conclusion when I skipped from
the water to God's words as the centerpiece of baptism. But friends,
this is what the Gospel writer does. In both Matthew and Mark's
gospel, there is a little phrase about Jesus coming up from the water
that is completely omitted in Luke's gospel. In fact, in Luke's
gospel, it doesn't even say specifically that John the Baptist
baptized Jesus. It just says, “Now
when all the people were baptized, Jesus was baptized, and when Jesus
also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and
the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.”
That's it. One big sentence that reminds us, as Kate's tears reminded
me, what baptism is really all about.
And,
you may be saying now that neither of these two textual differences,
removing John the Baptist from the action and omitting the water, are
a huge deal. They certainly don't seem to be a huge deal, except that
the effect of them is to remind us that it is not humans who baptize,
or humans who choose baptism, but it symbolizes the work God
is doing. And it is not the water that is important, but what the
symbol ultimately points to: God's love for each and every one of us.
So, yes, though
claiming that in saying Jesus was beloved, we all are beloved, seems
a bit outrageous, this is what Luke focuses the true meaning of
baptism on in his Gospel. And it is this focus on identity
proclamation, on naming and claiming that makes all the difference
for what we are called to do next. One commentator I read for this
week explains:
I am God’s
beloved. That’s an outrageous claim. Who am I to deserve God’s
love? But that claim, that identity, is what we celebrate with
this...story of the baptism of Jesus. We move from Luke’s birth
narratives to his account of an adult Jesus in the water of the
Jordan, and we hear the words “You are my Son, the Beloved.”
With his identity proclaimed, Luke sets the stage for
Jesus’ work in the world. From this identity comes all the rest:
- his audacious claim that God is here, now, within each one of us, if we but have eyes to see, that God claims us all as beloved, if we but have ears to hear;
- his daring promise of justice and compassion, a new way to be found outside the walls of the temple and beyond the influence of empire;
- his healing touch that broke taboos of status and gender and race.
All that comes from this first claim, this foundational
identity: you are my beloved.2
This
is what baptism is all about, for Jesus, for us. It is about naming
who we are and whose we are so that we may go out into the world
living into that identity. This is why my sister Kate was so touched
that Sunday as we welcomed another child into her true identity as
Beloved of God. Baptisms, I saw in that moment, are a time to shower
one another in love, to claim one another with love, as God has
claimed us.
My
mom is having her congregation this morning repeat after her: “I am
God's beloved child...called and sent to make a difference in the
world.” I thought this was a terrific idea. Being marked with God's
love doesn't just end with smiles and a warm feeling, it demands
action. So we're all going to say this together: “I am God's
beloved child...called and sent to make a difference in the world.”3
Get that stuck in your head this week. Pray those words this week,
and as we [remember our baptisms]/[baptize Sue and Patty today]. Can
you imagine what the world would look like if we were all rooted in
our belovedness? If we all recognized how much God loves us? If we
went around acting as the beloved children of God we are?
Let
us pray:
Spirit,
fill us to overflowing with your love today and everyday. And guide
us to love others, to widen the embrace of our church family even
more every day. Help us to make a difference in the world, God. In
the name of Jesus, Your Beloved. Amen.
1The
idea behind this paragraph is stolen a little from my mom's baptism
sermon, “A Baptism Shaped Life,” preached at Norrisville and St.
Paul United Methodist Churches on 5 September 2010.
2Ann
Howard, “Beloved Together,” A Word in Time,
The Beatitudes Society, 7 January 2013,
http://www.beatitudessociety.org/blog/28-beloved_together.
3Melissa
McDade, “Who We Are” preached at St. Paul and Norrisville United
Methodist Churches on 13 Jnauary 2013.
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