And that’s who came to John at the Jordan:
the
sinners. The liars were there. The cheaters.
The tax collectors and the colluders with the Roman
occupiers. The murderers, the adulterers,
the
thieves. The sinners came, all seeking
the good news that John had for them: be baptized, and all that went
before,
all that is in your past of sin, of good intentions that got twisted,
of greedy
motives or desperate measures, all will be wiped away, it will all be
utterly
gone, and you will be made new. God
loves you that much.
And Jesus came, too. For
you see, baptism is God’s best blessing, and God wasn’t about to let
Jesus go
without it. Jesus, there with the
thieves and the murderers and the slanderers and the adulterers, Jesus,
standing there with the broken ones with the hollow, pleading eyes. Jesus, seeking the same thing they were
seeking: a new start, a fresh beginning, a baptism for the forgiveness
of sins.
The shock of it was just a little too much for
John, and he
said “no.” “No, my cousin, this is not
for you. In fact, when you
are here, it’s me that needs the
water, me that needs the forgiveness.
When you are here, you are the
baptizer, and you want me to baptize you?”
And Jesus said “no” right back to John.
“These are my people,” he said.
“These sinners and failures and screwups?
God sent me to stand with them. God
sent me to stand with them, and I will be
baptized with them. God wills it, and
cousin, together, you and I will fulfill God’s will.”
So he waded out into the muddy water, and John
grabbed
him—can you imagine what it must have felt like to grab Jesus in this
way?—He
grabbed him, and he dipped him under the water.
And such a thing, such a thing had never happened before in
the history
of the world, a thing like Jesus standing so near to the people, so
closely
among them, refusing to leave them even in their sin.
Such a thing had never happened before, and
it split the sky open. That love that
Jesus had and that thing that Jesus did, it cracked the sky in two, and
the
very Spirit of God came down on him just like a dove fluttering down on
his shoulder. And there was a voice. And do you know what it said?
You know what it said. What did
it say? That’s right: “This is my son, the
beloved,
with whom I am well pleased.”
Such a thing had never happened before, and it
became clear
that this baptism thing that John was doing?
It became clear that it was God’s will that that thing, and
those words,
be given to all the people. So later on,
the Disciples did just what John had done with Jesus.
They went out and baptized everybody they
could get their hands on. They touched
them,
with their hands and with water, they touched them and to each one,
they said,
“You are God’s beloved child, and in you, God is well-pleased.” And God was in the water, and the touch, and
the word. And the people they
baptized? They baptized others, and they
baptized others, and they baptized others, and they baptized us, and we
baptized Jack. And God was in the water,
and the touch, and the word. [pause]
My parents were very clear that they wanted
for baptism to
be a choice their children made when they were old enough to decide for
themselves. So they didn’t baptize us as
babies. But eventually, as a young
adult, I went to my pastor. We talked
about it, and prayed about it, and I decided to go for it.
So one Sunday, I stood up before the congregation
to be baptized. There was another member
of the congregation there, and a young family with a baby.
The family with the baby went first, and it
was very sweet. The woman went next; as
the water trickled down her face, I saw it mingling with tears
streaming from
her eyes. Then my pastor baptized me in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. With each name, she touched me on the top of
my head with her hand and that holy water, and she blessed me. And as the water dripped down my
face, I felt…wet. That’s it.
No overwhelming sense of joy, no new lightness.
The sky did not open up, and I did not feel
like I had been made new. In fact, as I
look back, all I can really remember feeling, other
than wet, was a vague sense of annoyance that my pastor had
messed up my bangs. The whole thing was,
frankly, disappointing. [pause]
Now, there aren’t a lot
of rules about baptism, at least not in the tradition of which we are a
part,
but there are some. One
of them is the same as the rule for
eating chips and dip at a party: no double-dipping.
A baptism is good for a whole lifetime.
John’s baptism was once and for all, and so
was Jesus’. To redo one’s baptism would
imply that it hadn’t been done properly the first time, that God’s
grace hadn’t
been enough the first time around. So,
the deal is one baptism and one baptism only.
Now, I had a grandmother.
A devout, old-world, Catholic grandmother, and some time
after my
baptism as a young adult, my Grandma Stell told me a story she had
never told
anyone else before. She didn’t hold with
my parents’ views on baptism, she said.
She wasn’t worried about my right to self-determination, or
about free
will. Grandma Stell had bigger things on
her mind. Grandma Stell was worried about
my soul, and its eternal welfare.
Now, you know that in the Roman Catholic
Church, baptisms are usually performed by a priest.
But did you know that in the case of an
extreme emergency, any Catholic can perform a baptism?
It’s true.
“Emergency” is usually defined as a person being in imminent
danger of
death, but in my Grandma Stell’s mind, the situation with me qualified. So, the first time she was to babysit me, she
got ready. She went to the church, and
she stole a bottle full of holy water, and she brought it home, and
when my
parents dropped the new baby off at her house for the first time, she
baptized
me over her kitchen sink.
You see, she had been baptized by ones who had
been baptized
by ones who had been baptized by ones who had been baptized by John,
who had
baptized Jesus. She had felt the touch
of all those thousands of holy saints upon her head giving her God’s
best
blessing, and she wasn’t about to let me go without feeling it, too. She told me she had no idea what to do, but I
think she did, for there in her kitchen with no witness but God, she
held me
carefully over the sink, she took the holy water on her hand, she
looked into
my little eyes looking up into hers, and she touched my head, she
caressed my
forehead with her wet hand, saying, “I baptize you in the name of the
Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
And God was in the water, and in the touch, and in the word.
And I am so grateful for my Grandma Stell, and
for the story
of her sweet desire to fulfill God’s will: that I might not miss out of
God’s
best blessing. For it was proper, if
irregular, for her to fulfill all righteousness in that way—and I trust
God
will find a way to be OK with my double-dipping.
I tell you that story today because the story
of my baptism,
of Jack’s baptism, of your baptism, is the story of Jesus, is the story
of God,
is the story of God’s ongoing love affair with the world.
Each time we tell the stories of our
baptisms, we remind the world that God delights, delights
in every single one, every single one of God’s children.
So, what’s your story?
What’s the story of your baptism?
I’d like to invite you to take a moment now to tell that
story to
someone sitting near you in the pews. If
you don’t know the person, take a moment to introduce yourself first,
and then
tell it. How old were you?
Do you remember it? Who
performed it? Where?
Who was there with you? Are
there
traditions that surround baptism in your family? If
you remember it, what was it like? And
most importantly of all, where was God in
it? And for you out there who haven’t
been baptized, I know there’s a story there,
too. So I invite you to
tell the story of a different way you learned that you are a
beloved child of God. I invite you to do
that now.
[pause for
story-telling]
So, what did you hear?
I bet you heard stories of babies and family traditions, of
life-changing decisions, of new beginnings and new hope.
I bet you heard stories I can’t even imagine,
the kind of stories only God could dream up. I
bet that every one was about God working to
fulfill God’s fondest dream for you. I
bet that in every one of your baptism stories, there was the water, the
same
water that blessed Jesus, and there was the touch, the same touch that
caressed
Jesus, and there was the word, the same word that blessed Jesus: “You,
YOU, are
my child, the beloved, and in you I am well pleased.”
It is the best of blessings. Praise
God, amen.
