Sermon - And they believed... 3rd Sunday after Epiphany

3^rd Sunday After Epiphany - Year B                                                       January 24, 2021 Jonah 3:1-5, 10 Mark 1:14-20                                                     Panzer Liturgical Service

One of my favorite things about living in Europe is visiting churches and cathedrals.  I love the architecture, the carvings from different media, the stained glass, the feeling of connectedness as I imagine the many others who have worshiped before me. In medieval times, the people, for the most part did not read. They attended the mass to hear the priest read the scripture, preach on it, and pray the liturgy. But beginning in the 11^th century, churches brought artisans in to translate the words of the bible, allowing those stories to surround the congregation with the beauty of stained glass and sometimes lifelike representations of its characters.

Ken Follett, best known for suspense novels of international intrigue about WW2, has also penned several series of novels about the growth of civilization, beginning in the Middle Ages. The Kingsbridge series begins in the early 11^th century as the idea for cathedral construction is born in England.  In his novel, The Pillars of the Earth, he weaves together the lives of builders, carpenters, stone masons, church leaders, nobility and commoners.  Not only do we see how the building of this place of worship enhances their understanding of God, but we also get an understanding of how these people see this undertaking as their call – the place and actions where they can serve God best. (This novel is rated PG13 at best, and weighs in at an astonishing 900+ pages, so reading it is not a task for the faint of heart.)

Like many of us, these characters each encounter God in unexpected ways.  We wish that we could limit God to meeting us in our desired time and place, but God is relentless in the pursuit of us and meets us in unlikely times and places.  Like Jonah, we rebel against God’s call.  We run in the opposite direction, hoping to be free from the voice of God inside us, to someplace safe. For us, like Jonah, that doesn’t always work out so well. 

Can you think of a moment when God became very real to you? Was it in a time of happiness… or maybe in disappointment or anger? For each of us, there is some moment in time when, without a question or doubt, or maybe with lots of questions and doubts, we believe. It often happens when we least expect it. For some, it is a blinding flash of truth – for others, it’s been there all along.

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but Epiphany – Year B is all about CALL.  This week we continue that theme with a few different takes on not only how people get called, but also, what happens next.  Today we will look at two other stories about call – one from Old Testament wisdom literature and one from the gospel of Mark.

Poor Jonah… his worst nightmare has come true. He has gone to give a word of gloom and doom to the people of Nineveh and they have believed all that he has said. The people have done exactly what Jesus also instructed the people to do… they repented and believed in God. What a miracle for God… so why is Jonah so mad? Let’s start at the beginning.

In the first chapter of the book of Jonah, we see Jonah being called – called by God to proclaim to the people of Ninevah the need for repentance. But for whatever reasons – fear stubbornness, or lack of faith, Jonah ran away. And when he ran away, he ran away big. “I’ll go to the other side of the world – to Tarshish – to Spain. Yahweh will never find me there. ”But just as his journey was beginning, a violent storm shook the ship carrying the runaway cargo of God. And the further out to sea the boat went, the more violent the storm became. Soon sailors were throwing cargo overboard to try to save the ship. When that didn’t help, they started searching for the one who had angered the gods so badly. Jonah, asleep in the hold of the ship, was found and ultimately admitted that he was probably the guilty party. “Please throw me off the ship and you will be saved. ”And as a last resort, they obliged him. So, there was Jonah, sinking fast in a restless, turbulent sea.

But that’s not the end of the story.  Jonah was worth saving. He just needed to learn an important lesson or two. So, the story tells us Jonah was swallowed by a very large fish, where he lived for three days, talking to himself and praying to God. And when God thought that Jonah could be reasoned with again, the fish set Jonah free, throwing him up on a deserted beach.

Here’s where today’s reading starts.  “I got it,” Jonah told the Lord. “You want me to go to Nineveh. I’m on my way. ”Three days later Jonah began what he thought would be a 40-day campaign to the destruction of Ninevah. On the first day, Jonah began to preach. The crux of the sermon was this… “Forty days and Nineveh will be overthrown by Yahweh, the God of the Israelites. ”No word of grace… no promise for the future. No “what if”… no “but on the other hand. ” Jonah felt his responsibility was to warn these worldly, evil people of their destruction at the hand of God. But two things happened, which I think was probably the reason that Jonah didn’t want to go in the first place. The people believed… and God changed his mind.

The people of Ninevah experienced knowledge of God in an unusual way, for as Jonah was preaching his word of death and destruction, they heard God’s word of hope and possibility. Deep inside God’s message was a churning word of hope. “Maybe it’s not too late. Why would God warn us if no possibility existed for us to change the outcome?” And in verses 8-9, the king speaks for and to the people of Ninevah, saying “All shall turn from their evil ways and from the violence that is in their hands.  Who knows?  God may relent and change his mind; he may turn from his fierce anger, so that we do not perish.” The people of Ninevah repent, not because of the promise of salvation, but on the possibility that it just might happen.

Now let’s turn to Mark. It’s a bare-bones story compared to other gospel accounts. I have no hymn for this story, but I do have questions. What did the families of these people think? Did they even know who Jesus was? Or what in store for them? And if they did, would they do it again? The bible doesn’t answer any of those questions. But we do know this: It was a turning point – a totally life-changing event. It was Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” It was the event where we begin to understand that no one’s life is ever the same after they followed Jesus.

There are very special “God moments” in each of our lives. Sometimes they are very subtle, and unless we tune into them, we may not remember them. Others are like huge flags waving in our faces, saying “This is it. God is here.” And, while these experiences may take up very little chronological time, they occupy a large part of our memory and faith experience. They engage us in such ways that they change us and often steer us on paths we never imagined. Or they confirm to us that we are headed in the right direction, even when others question the choices we make.  

The Greeks talked about time in two ways, by giving us two words. The passage of time in seconds, minutes, hours and days, is called Kronos, giving us the word, “chronological.” In kronos time, things move in an orderly fashion, dependable and never-changing. It’s military time – where there are 24 hours, or 1440 minutes, or 86400 seconds in a day. It’s what keeps school and work schedules running smoothly, and it’s what keeps us on track to be productive members of society.

But there is another kind of time called Kairos.  The word is used in the sense of “a time set by God.” Kairos time seeks to define time as it functions outside the bounds of our orderly imaginations. It is a God-given moment and when it is used by the New Testament writers it always describes an opportunity for conversion and hope. 

This week Shawn and I will celebrate the 27^th anniversary of our engagement, and while the actual process of asking me to marry him only took about five minutes, it actually occupies a significant amount of space in my brain. I’m always happy to tell the story – but let’s just say that the Kairos of that moment has a prominent place as one of my call stories. That moment was not just personally significant,  but also professionally and spiritually. From that day on, my journey was not just my own, but now we were on the road together.

Jonah expected the people of Nineveh to ignore his words, to go on about their evil little lives. I think he may have even wanted that, at least a little bit. Instead, Jonah’s words changed their lives forever. Instead of thinking, “whatever…,” Jonah’s words were heard as an opportunity for the people and the community to change. It’s actually pretty amazing… without any hope of God’s repentance, without a clue of God’s turning around, the people of Ninevah believed, and because of that belief, their lives would never be the same.

For Simon and Andrew, James and John, this kairos moment meant leaving behind the only work they had ever known. It was the work that fed their families.  They contributed to the local economy. They woke early, then caught the fish, and then sold them at the market. Being a fisherman was hard work, but offered them a good life.

But Jesus asked them another unknown path, one of liberation. There was excitement in that – the possibility to break the chains of social oppression, to form a different kind of community. And there was a cost to it. The price of admission was no less than their lives, or at least their lives as they knew them.

When he called for these fishermen to follow him, Jesus changed more than their individual lives; he unveiled new identities for them to the world. As they followed Jesus, their perspective of the world changed. The way they lived changed. The way they saw themselves changed. And the same can be true for us. In giving up preconceived notions about how we’re supposed to live and what we are “required” to do, we surrender ourselves to God and Christ.  This is scary, because there is comfort and familiarity in who we think we are.  But in shedding the world’s labels, we also have the opportunity to release the fear and shame that often accompany them. [i]

For over 40 years I have been reading Guidepost magazine. Before the internet, I kept the magazines in small notebooks with tabs to help me find the stories that were especially meaningful to me.  I loved the story of Gloria Busch and Robert Funk from 1997. A black woman and white man from the rural South, each had harbored long years of resentment along racial lines. Robert learned his bigotry and racism as he served as a local policeman during desegregation. Employers and fellow police officers convinced him that his anger and feeling of superiority were justified. Gloria’s anger was aimed at just that kind of treatment, being passed over at work because of her race, in not being about to find suitable housing or transportation or bathroom facilities.

But through the years, each of them had small moments of understanding that erased that hate, leaving room for something else to grow. They met in 1992 as they gathered with mutual friends for a healing prayer service at the local Baptist church. It was an unlikely and uneasy friendship. But as it grew, they each experienced emotional and physical healing. As they worked through the pain of the past, they acknowledged that this kind of love and friendship is God intended for us. For Robert, the moment he felt closest to God, was when he realized that he no longer saw Gloria as a black woman sharing a meal with his family, but simply saw his good friend. [ii]

Hopefully, when we hear the story of Jonah, or the stories of the disciples leaving their old ways of life to follow Jesus, we realize that there are many ways to be in  God’s presence. These kairos moments change our lives, shift our perceptions of what is important and help redirect our efforts and experiences. And like the Ninevites and the disciples, we are asked to repent, turn to God, and to believe in the good news of Christ. When we do this, our lives are never the same.

Following Jesus means freedom, but it’s not just the freedom to live unchained from expectation. On this journey, we discover what it means to be loved by God, and what it means to live in community, depending on one another. On this journey, we are drawn to the lives of others – their joys, their pains, their tragedies, their hopes.  In time, we realize that the world doesn’t revolve around us. God has created us to worship him, not the other way around. Ours is a journey of identity in which we move from living to care only to fulfill our needs to claiming the heart which God has given us to love Christ and the world.

God said to Jonah, go – and after some serious negotiation – Jonah went and proclaimed a word for God. And despite Jonah’s intentions for God, a people were saved. Jesus said, “Follow me.” And even though they didn’t always get it right, the disciples experienced God’s grace in a way that was totally new. Through them, the church was born. And the good news for today is this: we, too, are characters in that same. Let us hear the call of God and believe – and when we believe, let us follow.

 

(c) Deb Luther Teagan, January 24, 2021

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[i] http://www. thewitness. org/article. php? id=1009

[ii] “Beyond the Protests,” Guideposts, February 1997, pp.  9-14.

Sermon - Hear the call - 2nd Sunday after Epiphany (B)

 Year B - Epiphany 2                                                                     January 17, 2021

I Samuel 3:1-10, Psalm 139, John 1:43-51                         Panzer Liturgical Service

In today’s lessons, we hear different versions of what it means to be called. The Hebrew Bible reading takes us to the world of Samuel. God must have a heart for babies born to old mothers because once again, a faithful older woman gives birth to a child with a little divine anointing. It is hard for me to imagine giving up a long-awaited and much-loved child for someone else to raise, just because God answered a prayer, but that was what Hannah did. She made a promise to God and she kept it because she knew that God had something special in mind.

The child was raised by Eli, and as Eli grew older, Samuel begins to take care of him. One evening, Samuel hears a voice calling him in the night. At first, he thinks that it is Eli, needing something from him, but after three times, both men realize that the call is something totally different. In community with Eli, Samuel recognizes the voice of God and replies, “Here I am.”

Our call starts from the beginning. In Psalm 139, we hear how God knows us. From the beginning, God is calling. While we are speaking and listening and working, God is there. We may not be able to recognize God’s presence in our lives for a long time, but it doesn’t mean that God isn’t there. And it doesn’t mean that God isn’t calling. Sooner than later, God’s call compels us to follow, and whatever actions that require of us, answering the call is really about fully committing our lives to Christ. It is about having an Epiphany about who Jesus is – and who we are through him.

In our gospel lesson, we learn some important things about God, Jesus, and those who follow him. This is the first of several scenes where people meet Jesus and answer the call to follow him. Here Jesus tells Nathanael he saw him, long ago, sitting under the fig tree – Nathaniel was known before he was called. This is a reflection of the psalm reading, an embodiment of the 139th Psalm… “I have known you, even in your mother’s womb.” It is marvelous and a little scary that Jesus knows us before we ever know Him. He knows our joys, our faults, our gifts, our blessings and shortcomings, and weaknesses – he knows it all And still he calls out, “Follow me.”

I’ll be honest. I don’t know how to talk about God’s call without talking about what that looks like for me. Many preachers would not make this same choice. And I want to be clear that my call is not better or worse than anyone else’s call… it’s just different. It’s a very high bar, hearing God call your name. But then again, how do we even know what God’s voice sounds like? Is it a booming voice from heaven? Is it a whisper filtered through our thoughts or in the quietness of listening and prayer? Could the voice of God come through our interactions with other people? Does God call us through our service to others? The answer is yes – God will use all of these ways and more to get our attention, and help us focus on committing our lives to love and serve wherever we are needed.

I can’t remember hearing God speak directly to me. But I do remember planning to sleep in on Sunday mornings after college, but waking up at 5 am and thinking, “Well, since I’m up, I guess I’ll go to church.” Looking back, I heard the call of God through the encouragement of a college professor, Jack Stevenson, who asked, “Are you sure you’re supposed to be a scientist because I’m getting a different vibe about you?” And from John Culp, a mission-minded pastor, who spoke to me in a quiet voice at a Conference worship service honoring the 30^th anniversary of the ordination of women in the United Methodist Church and whispered, “I think you belong up there, too.”

I’ll be honest, many people thought that my decision to change professions was at best ill-advised and even a little bit crazy. Some of the women I worked with thought I was leaving the hospital to become a nun. For a long time, maybe a couple of years, I didn’t tell anyone of this desire to preach in the church. And when I did share, many were skeptical, not of my gifts and graces, but worried about the difficult life that women in ministry experience. But God’s voice wouldn’t go away. I had a great job, a wonderful roommate, volunteered in a faithful congregation. But it didn’t feel like it was enough… or that I was in the right place.

So, I finally spoke those things out loud. And with the help of a pastor, a therapist, and the proper medication, I gathered my courage and started a new life, first committing to one year of seminary… the rest, of course, is history.

The word epiphany means “manifestation” or “revealing.” On these Sundays after Epiphany, it is not only Jesus who is made known; the people who surround Jesus also learn something about themselves. The wise men not only open their treasure chests and worship him, but they avoid Herod on the way out to keep the Holy Family safe. When John baptizes Jesus he says, “the one coming after me is before me.” – ‘Here he is folks – this is the guy I was talking about.’ And time after time, Jesus chooses his disciples. It’s not an all-call – he doesn’t say “line up if you want to follow me.” No, Jesus calls them individually and by name. “Nathanael, Andrew, Peter - come and follow me.”

Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I can see that God was calling long before I left for Duke… in 7^th grade my friend Lisa invited me to church and I found lifelong friends. When I was 8, I stood up at my sister’s baptism and promised to help raise her in the church. And last week, I told this snippet, about when I was 5 or 6, and I wanted to go up and take communion with everybody else, and when I was told, "You can’t come until you understand,” my displeasure was heard by pretty much everyone in the place. Somehow, I had internalized a different message – one that said, "There's plenty of room at my table. You are welcome any time”

Of course, hindsight is 20/20. Often, we don't hear God's voice. Maybe, like Samuel, we are expecting someone else, and we run around battling our own confusion. Or maybe we don't hear it because there are too many other voices around us, or because things we think are more important distract us – like power and prestige and plans long in the making. And still, even with all the missed opportunities – God calls us, as individuals and as the church. So, the question that I want us to ask is this -- How do we learn to listen for God's voice so that we can hear and act when God calls?  

There are two things at play here: the method and the message.

What do I mean by method? In their book, Resident Aliens, my teachers Stanley
Hauerwas and Will Willimon tell us that "Being precedes doing." This means that to do the kinds of things that God would have us to do, we must learn to be the kind of people that God created us to be. And to some extent, that means training. Sunday school, Vacation bible school, confirmation, bible studies, and discipleship training do more than teach us facts. They also teach us to listen… to be present with God and present for one another.

Christian formation happens in different ways every day. When we say the blessing at a family meal, when we listen to bedtime prayers or read the Bible to our children or for ourselves -- when we participate in a worship service, singing and praying and saying the Apostle's Creed or recite the liturgy together -- All of these things open our ears a little bit more to God calling our name. Through the ministry and witness of other people, and through our willingness to step out on faith, God is preparing us to be a different kind of people, ones who are shaped by God's word and by the life, death, and resurrection of his only son.

But understanding the method is not enough. We also must understand the message. If you read the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7, or the Sermon on the Plain in Luke 6, you hear a message that is counter to the one of power that the Jews of that day were looking for. Jesus told parables that turned conventional wisdom on its head so that we might understand God in a new way. One of the reasons that Jesus got into so much trouble was that he hung out with the wrong people. His ministry was about bringing people closer to God, not caring about what that mean for him. His was a message and a ministry of love, mercy, and justice, and fulfilled many Old Testament prophecies about who the coming Messiah would be. And he called the disciples and others to come and follow him.

I don’t know about you, but for me, the call of Jesus touches all my tender places. Sometimes I have hesitated – even said no. But many times, I have stepped out on faith, trusting in the one who promises me abundant life. I follow in the knowledge that the joy I have in serving is always greater than the comfort I have in staying in my safe place and keeping the status quo. Has called me to some scary places? Yes, he has. But that call eventually brought me to this place, with all of you, and that is a very good thing. 

Our call to ministry is open-ended and open-minded. Recognizing that we are called to act is a good first step. But Jesus’ call to Nathanael reminds us that answering the call is just the beginning. We know from hearing the stories of the bible and throughout history that God and Jesus will take us places that are outside our comfort zones… places we never intended to go.

Sometimes God will call and we will refuse to answer… many times we will hear and go, even if we’re afraid. The good news is this: eventually, people of faith will take the road that Jesus calls us to follow – the road to love and mercy and justice – and that journey will bring joy and satisfaction, even if it is a hard road to follow. And we do not go alone!

What does that mean for our journeys? How do we respond, once we have heard the call and are willing to go Jesus’ way?

Let us end hearing the words of St Theresa of Avila:

"Christ has no body now, but yours. No hands, no feet on earth, but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ looks compassion into the world. Yours are the feet with which Christ walks to do good. Yours are the hands with which Christ blesses the world."

Hear the call… Follow him. Amen

Holy God, you speak to us in many ways, through rushing wind or still small voice, in Scripture’s Word or through your Grace, and we in turn find many ways, to hear the world’s insistent voice, break through the silence and take your place. Forgive our sin. Help us hear your voice above the clamour of this world, recognize the difference, and follow only you. Amen

(Faith and Worship – Epiphany prayers faithandworship.com)

Connie Schultz – Christian Hate is No Faith at All, January 14, 2021 [https://www.creators.com/read/connie-schultz/01/21/christian-hate-is-no-faith-at-all]

STEPHANIE RUSSELL-KRAFT, “RUSSELL MOORE TELLS SOUTHERN BAPTISTS TRUMP SHOULD BE REMOVED” Sojourners Magazine January 11, 2021 https://sojo.net/articles/russell-moore-tells-southern-baptists-trump-should-be-removed

Please read this editorial from the Washington Post by Phillip Kennicott from January 12,^, 2018…. https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/what-did-the-men-with-donald-trump-do-when-he-spoke-of-shithole-countries/2018/01/12/358a7e26-f7b5-11e7-beb6-c8d48830c54d_story.html?nid&utm_term=.eef7c44e12d9

Sermon - The Baptismal Mandate (Baptism of the Lord B)

 BAPTISM OF THE LORD                                                January 10. 2021

Genesis 1:1-5; Mark 1:4-11                                                Panzer Liturgical Service

A child is born. Let’s say that it is a girl child. She is a daughter, sister, and eventually a wife and a mother. She moves in and out of relationships throughout a lifetime. She is baptized as an infant and grows up in the Church as at least an "average" Christian. She hears about God, has read much of the Bible, attends youth group and Sunday School most Sundays, works in the nursery when her own children are there, and takes a turn at teaching Sunday School. She works outside the home, at first part-time and then full-time. She provides volunteers in the community. She cares for her parents' when the time comes.

People think that they know her, but just when they think they have her pegged, she surprises them. In reality, people know only a little bit about her. It would take all of the chapters in a very large book to know her so well that we would never be surprised or disappointed. And even then, we could not know her as she knows herself or as well as God does.

And if we can't really know one of our fellow creatures, how can we expect to know everything there is to know about God? Throughout the ages, the Church has incorporated the telling of its family story each week in worship. The story defines the way we think about a year. Our year starts at Advent, not on January 1^st, in the story of the Holy Family, throughout Jesus’ ministry, on Holy Thursday and on Good Friday, on All Saint’s Day, and at Pentecost. We celebrate the whole story through the whole year, and we know who we are through the stories of Palm Sunday and Easter, not just the stories of Christmastide.

Holy Scripture is a vehicle for that knowing. God is, in part, known through a relationship with the created. In the readings for today, we hear of the relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit. Through the readings, we share intimate moments, moments that are some of the most revealing. Especially in the Hebrew Bible and the gospel lessons, God introduces Himself to us and invites us to meet the rest of the family.

If you close your eyes and imagine the first five verses of Genesis, what would you see? What would you hear? At first, there is darkness, and then the sound of water. Water, water, everywhere. And God stirs the water around and starts the creative process. Darkness and light, day and night, earth, and heaven. Animals and human beings. It all began with the water.

Water plays such an elemental role in our lives and in the lives of the Biblical characters. How many stories can you think of where water was a symbol pointing to the greatness of God? Crossing the Red Sea, Jonah and the whale, water from a rock in the wilderness, Noah and the flood, water into wine, Jesus walking on water… and many more. And water is present even in the story most familiar to us. In the baptism liturgy it goes like this: “In the fullness of time you sent Jesus, nurtured in the water of a womb, baptized by John, and anointed by your Spirit.”

Born in a stable… baptized with sinners in the Jordan River… This is a scene of epic proportions. Jesus’ ministry begins so simply. John in his holy lunacy mingles with the crowd from the villages, people aching for some Good News. This good news comes in two forms: the baptism of John which is a forgiveness of sins, and his prophecy of the one who is greater and who will follow. Indeed, there is more to come. There will be a baptism of the Spirit. In the end, there will not be a human intermediary with this new baptism. It will be straight from God.

Jesus, the righteous one, goes to John and enters the water of the Jordan. And with water John baptizes Jesus, even under duress. Mark tells us that as he leaves the water, he sees the "heaven torn apart." Now, that is a picture worthy of the best filmmaker. "You are my Son, the Beloved." At this moment, God the Father cannot get close enough to his child and in euphoric frustration rips and tears the very fabric of the universe to lay his claim upon his Son. It is a cosmic YES, arms raised high and feet dancing. It is love spilling out, the cup overflowing. God knows, and from Scripture, we too know, what will be the result of this descent of the Spirit to Jesus. Justice and mercy will be preached to all people. Jesus will feed and heal and teach, reminding people of God’s real intentions for his creation.

Where are we in this story? We stand with the crowd at the Jordan. We have trudged out from town, weighed down by our sins, and hopeful that the madman from the desert will give us new hope and purpose for living. We don’t know that the man in our midst is one born without stain. We probably don't recognize him as the Messiah. But we go back to the village and step back into our routines. We are refreshed and feel the sense of a clean start. We know that something has changed.

What do we learn of God at this moment? We are introduced to the Son, the Servant. We see the Holy Parent leaning down from heaven to give us our first glimpse of the Holy Spirit. It’s a reminder that God wants to be known by us. We know God through the words of the Holy Scripture, a human diary of people’s experiences of God throughout history. We know God through his Son Jesus and through the Holy Spirit which sustained him and us. In this moment of Jesus’ baptism, God bursts into our realm to proclaim a message of identity and blessing. “This is my child – with him I am well-pleased.” And throughout Jesus’ ministry, he extends this same status to us. We are also the children of God.

Baptism is the sacrament that affirms this message. In baptism, we are anointed and accepted and recognized by God. Here we hand ourselves over to God. Through baptism we are cleansed… marked … and set apart for service, to perform acts of justice and mercy, and to know and be known by God even more.

It is not a small thing we do when we come to the fountain of life. Some of us come to baptism by our own choice, choosing to join the communion of believers as a way of affirming our allegiance to Jesus and the Kingdom of God. Many of us come to baptism at the discretion of others, and years later affirm the promises that were made on our behalf, taking responsibility for our own faith journeys through confirmation and baptismal reaffirmation. Either way, baptism is another way we come to know Jesus and express our commitment to a life of faith in him. And while it’s not a date we celebrate with regularity, our baptismal stories are as important to our faith journeys as any other day in our lives.

When you leave here today, you have two assignments. First, if you don’t already know your baptismal story, ask questions to find out what you can… hear or tell the story as you know it… and to celebrate that day of recognition and initiation into the life of the church. Mark these days on your family calendars, and when you celebrate them, light a candle to remember your baptism and be thankful.

Second, think about how your baptism informs your place in the world today. What does baptism require of us? And how are we called to live differently because we have claimed the promises of Jesus?

I spent some time this week looking at the baptismal services from some of the denominations represented here each Sunday, and I know that we talked about this on Confirmation Sunday, but as we celebrate Jesus’ baptism today and remember our own baptisms, it’s good to be reminded again.

In the Episcopal Church, in addition to affirming the 3 main tenants of the Apostle’s Creed, those claiming or reaffirming baptism are asked these questions:

• ·      Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?
• ·      Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?
• ·      Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?
• ·      Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

To each question, the people respond: I will, with God's help.[i]

ELCA baptismal documents say this: “Our baptism sets us out on a lifelong journey that is characterized by our relationship to God, our relationship to our faith community, our relationships in our community and the wider world. Living our baptismal covenant means living a life of growth in the faith practices of discipleship… We are to “...live among God’s faithful people; hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s Supper; proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed; serve all people following the example of Jesus, and strive for justice and peace in all the earth.”[ii]

And in the United Methodist Church, those coming for baptism, confirmation, and reaffirmation are asked these questions, specifically: “Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world, and repent of your sin?” “Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?” and lastly, “Will you faithfully participate in the church’s ministries by your prayers, your presence, your gifts, your service, and your witness?”[iii]

When I was watching TV on Wednesday, I was reminded of my experience on September 11, 2001. All-day long I fielded phone calls and messages from people, who know I am a pastor, asking questions like this: How do I talk to my kids about what happened today? What do I do with the conflicting feelings I have? How do I process my fear? What does my faith compel me to do? I didn’t get any of those phone calls this past week, but I felt those same questions bubbling to the surface as I heard the conversations that swirled around us. They are still good questions.

Many good, Christian people have been silent in the face of evil throughout history. Lessons of the past often must be learned again and again. For some of us, the need to speak out again evil and hate cloaked in the mantle of Christian teaching makes us very afraid. But maybe we should be more afraid of what will happen if we don’t speak out.

The light of Christ coming to the nations is good news, but it isn’t always comforting. Light reveals what is hidden, exposing darkness. And if we take our baptismal vows seriously, we have to peek into those dark places, confront what we find, and vow to speak out and live out a Christ-centered truth.

On Epiphany, January 6^th, we celebrate the coming of the Magi, who visited Herod on the way into town, but went home by another way because they knew he would not like what they found. Today, we lift up Jesus’ baptism, which puts his ministry front and center, often at odds with the religious and political powers of the day.  Both of these milestones celebrated in the same week, remind us that the Christian faith cannot be used as a tool to prop up political power. As Christians, we are called to walk the narrow path, the path of love, peace, mercy, and justice, affirming Jesus’ kingship over all the creation.

And this is hard work. Change will not come overnight. There is a lot of damage to be repaired. But we are called to take up the work of bringing healing to our churches, our communities, and our nation around the deep and unchanging truths about who Christ is calling us to be and how Christ is calling us to service. Serving the needy and the poor, loving our neighbors, willing to be a voice for the least, the last, and the lost.

Anglican priest, Tish Harrison Warren says it this way: This work will be frustratingly small and local, under the radar, and away from the headlines. It will feel paltry and unimportant in the face of the raging nations and widespread ecclesial and national decay. It will be long, risky, and uncertain. But in that meek and humble place, perhaps, with the Magi, we can again find the small star that leads us to the true Light of the World.[iv]

I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie “Soul” on Disney Plus, but I highly recommend it for family and adult viewing. It’s a movie about a lot of things, but for me, it was about how we find meaning in life. I’m not going to go through the plot or main characters, but there was a quote at the end of the movie that, when I heard it, I knew I wanted it to be my ending illustration today.

THE FISH AND THE OCEAN STORY – attributed to Fr Anthony de Mello

I heard this story about a fish. He swims up to an older fish and says, “I’m trying to find this thing they call ‘the ocean.'”

“The ocean? the older fish says, “That’s what you’re in right now.”

“This?” says the young fish. “This is water. What I want is the ocean!” [v]

Our faith journeys are not just defined by grand moments of divine revelation… they are made up of individual actions on ordinary days that make a difference to someone somewhere, even if we can’t see the outcome. The justice and mercy we offer others go much farther in preaching the gospel than we can imagine.

Jesus’ baptism by John is one piece in the puzzle of our Christian story. Jesus knows each of us a little bit better because he too has felt the coolness of the water and heard the voice of God, sending him out to serve. And I know him better because I hear the story of God, through Jesus and the Church, and actively participate in what baptism is all about.

Jesus’ baptism propels him into the world – to teach, to serve, to live, and to love. And it does the same for us. God claims us at our baptisms – this is my child with whom I am well pleased – and sends us out to go and do the same… to live and serve and love in his name. Thanks be to God!

Amen.

Lord Jesus, we give you thanks that you did not expect us to be faithful to you on our own. You do not leave us to our own devices. You give us what we need to be courageous, even when courage does not come naturally. You push us to speak up and speak out for you, even when are shy to say what we think.

 For the gift of your Holy Spirit, bestowed upon us, even us, in our baptism, we give thanks. Stir up in us a fresh awareness of your Holy Spirit working in us and through us. Give us a bold sense of adventure in being willing to follow the leading of your Spirit, pushing, prodding us into the world in your name. Amen.[vi]

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[i] https://episcopalchurch.org/baptismal-covenant

[ii] https://elca.org/en/Our-Work/Congregations-and-Synods/Faith-Practices/Living-Our-Baptismal-Covenant

[iii] https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/the-baptismal-covenant-i

[iv] Tish Harrison Warren, “We Worship with the Magi, not the MAGA,” Christianity Today, January 7, 2021

https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2021/january-web-only/trump-capitol-mob-election-politics-magi-not-maga.html

[v] Jared Dees, https://jareddees.com/fish-story-soul/

[vi] Will Willimon, “Remember Your Baptism,” Pulpit Resource, Vol. 49, No. 1, Year B, 2021