Baptism of the Lord

January 10, 2010

"Baptism as Beginning"

Reverend Michael D. Powell

 Luke3:15-16, 21-22  

                                            

                                                                                                       

                  

            Sometimes I get discouraged about the content of television shows; so many of them are either violent, or sexist, or stupid, or shallow.  A lot of them are all of the above.  Every once in awhile, however, there’s an episode of something on television that has some spiritual content that makes a point worth pondering. 

 

            Anni and I used to watch Judging Amy.  Seems like all the shows we like get cancelled!  Amy was a judge who lived with her social worker mother, Maxine. Both Amy and Maxine are wise and compassionate people, but part of the story line is that they often don’t treat each other very well.  Sometimes when we’d watch them fighting we’d admire their spunk and comment to one another, “You know, they’re really honest and good at fighting. We don’t really fight very much.  Maybe we ought to learn how to fight like they do on television.”  But, more often, I just think what a waste of time and energy. They loved each other, why couldn’t they just say it?

        

            And, you don’t often get a very attractive portrayal of religion on television.  I remember one episode when Amy’s brother and his estranged wife wanted to baptize their newly born son.  The preacher, who just happened to be Methodist, came to the house and was going over the words of the vows with the extended family.  He was using traditional Prayer Book language about renouncing sin when suddenly Maxine bursts out, “Why do we have to say all that stuff?  There’s power in ritual, but why don’t we say something practical that we can actually do, like we’ll just do our best to raise this baby to be a good person.”  Amy, sensing disaster, says, “Mother, we need to talk.”  Then she takes her aside, although still very much within hearing distance of the others, including the preacher, and begins to scold her mother saying, “Don’t be a problem.  Just say the words.  They’re just a bunch of mumbo jumbo anyway.” 

         

        I’ve had people express those feelings to me.  Baptism is a community event in a spiritual context, and it contains faith language about believing in God, and also words about promising to raise the child and bring them to church and teach them to pray and participate in spiritual community.  I take those words seriously, but I realize not everyone does.  One of the things I often do if the parents are not regular participants in worship is to sit down with them and talk about what they do believe and why they want their child baptized.  I have never refused to baptize any child whose parents asked for baptism, but I do offer to put the baptismal liturgy into words they can say with enthusiasm and integrity.  The thing is, if they want a Christian baptism, whatever words we use, the core of the service is that we are acknowledging that this is a child of God. When I sprinkle the baby with water, the traditional language is, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” I don’t mind in the least using other language, like Creator, Sustainer and Redeemer, but the intent is the same.  There’s nothing magic about baptism, but there is something powerful and mysterious that is being symbolized, and it can be a deeply moving experience when it’s taken seriously. 

 

         Something happens in the sacrament of baptism and, although it’s mysterious, it’s not incomprehensible.  The person being baptized, or the parents of the baby, are acknowledging that they are a part of the family of God, and that they will do their best to live in a way that is based on the   love, the compassion, the forgiveness and the understanding of God’s presence that is the heart of what Jesus Christ lived and taught. 

        

        We get our model for Christian baptism from what happened to Jesus at the River Jordan, when John baptized him.  I mentioned last week that the Baptism of Jesus was one of the original origins of Epiphany, the appearance or manifestation of God’s power and presence in Christ. When Jesus was baptized, it was a sign that God, through him, identifies with our human condition.  Baptism doesn’t mark the culmination of anything; it marks the beginning of a process, the intention to participate in a spiritual journey of transformation.

        

        In the movie, Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? three goofy and very funny escaped convicts are on the lamb when they encounter a beautiful, surreal procession of white robed people singing, “Let’s go down to the river and pray,” as they mysteriously walk through the forest on their way to the river.  The convicts follow, to find the people lining up to be baptized.  Two of the friends rush into the water to be baptized.  The first exclaims as he emerges from the water that the minister had told him that all his sins have been washed away.  Even, he says, when he stole the pig for which he’d been convicted.  “But you said you were innocent of that,” his buddy says.  “I lied,” he responds, and then, without missing a beat, he says, “and that lie’s been washed away too!”  It’s funny, but there’s a serious point.  He has begun a process of growing in faith.  He believes that something mysterious and spiritual has happened - that a process of transformation has begun.  The change is illustrated when a little later the three convicts steal a hot pie from a window sill.  The one who felt that his sins had been washed away still steals the pie.  But then, as a kind of afterthought, he returns and places a dollar bill on the window sill.  Baptism doesn’t make us perfect but, to the extent we take it seriously, it symbolizes the start of a process of living in a new way.

        

        Luke makes a very important point when he says that, after the baptism, Jesus was at prayer when he experienced the empowerment of the Holy Spirit.  Baptism itself is a symbol, a public proclamation of our intention, but nothing magic happens.  It’s when we’re at prayer, communing in our hearts with God, that we begin to experience the presence of the Holy Spirit working within us.  That’s why people who just go through the ritual, mouthing words they consider mumbo jumbo, don’t experience the transformation.  The Holy Spirit is not in the water, it comes to us in prayer.  It’s after his baptism, when Jesus is at prayer, that he hears the voice of God saying, “You are my son.  With you I am well pleased.” 

        

        When I do an infant baptism, I take the baby in my arms and ask the parents what name shall be given this child.  Then I say the child’s name out loud for everyone to hear, and as I’m sprinkling that baby, performing the sacrament of Holy Baptism, I believe there’s a voice from heaven saying, “That’s my daughter.  This is my son.  I love this child.”  That’s what it means to be named, and claimed. 

        

        I’ll close with one more illustration, from the movie, Lord of the Rings. There’s a scene in the movie when the elf-queen draws water from her fountain in a silver pitcher and pours it into a basin, encouraging Frodo and Sam to look into it.  She says, “The water will show you what has been, and some of what might be.” 

 

            And that’s the way it is for us in the sacrament of Holy Baptism. We know what has been and what is.  Those are the claims that we make at baptism.  But, in baptism we catch a glimpse of the future - through the eyes of faith.  We catch a glimpse of the promise of knowing God’s loving, healing, strengthening and joyfully reassuring presence through prayer.  That beautiful moment of peace and reconciliation, with God and with one another, is what we celebrate when we close our worship by singing “Shalom.”