The Baptism of the Lord, Year B

The Spirit Working in Us

Readings: Genesis 1:1-5; Psalm 29; Acts 19:1-7; Mark 1:4-11

Yesterday the Feast of the Epiphany, the visitation of the Magi to the Holy Family, and the Sundays that follow it celebrate the revealing of God's incarnate self to humanity, the unfolding of the great mystery of the Incarnation. It is an unfolding, not only to the people of Israel, but also to the whole world.

Today we are focusing on the Baptism of the Lord. It is a fitting celebration as we bring Isaac into the body of Christ through baptism and renew our own baptismal promises. We read in Scripture of how God is revealed to us through the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In the Old Testament reading, the spirit is revealed as “a wind from God which swept over the face of the waters.” The creating spirit of God hovered over the waters, the source of life. In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Paul points out to the people of Ephesus that the Holy Spirit should have been the great gift of their baptism. He is surprised to find their lack of understanding at how God is revealed. He wants them to experience the Holy Spirit in their lives as a gift of grace. Finally in the Gospel, God is made manifest through the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River.

The Jews were constantly looking for God’s revelation. But they came to a time in their spiritual life as we all do when God seemed not to be present with them. As God became more and more absent in their lives, they looked back with yearning to the days of the prophets when God had been very much a part of their experience. They felt as if the Holy Spirit had been absent since those days. The voice of God which had spoken to the prophets was heard now only as an echo. They looked for the time when the sky would be opened and God would once more speak directly to the people.
And then it happened. Jesus came to John to be baptized. The heavens opened. The dove hovered over him. God called out words of affirmation. “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Clearly in Mark’s Gospel the voice is Jesus’ personal experience. The onlookers are unaware of what is happening. But we who read the Gospel are to understand it as a revelation, an epiphany, a manifestation to us, the people of God. Through it we are to understand Jesus’ unique relationship to God, and his call to ministry.

But we are called to understand far more. For this incident in our Lord’s life is within the experience of each of us. We are intended to experience that same descent of the dove in our lives. We are to experience God’s presence in our lives. How is God revealed to us? Where for us is the deep sense of peace, the sense that our wills and that of God are in harmony? Where is the sense of a presence from whom we receive affirmation of our call to ministry?
When I was leaving my teaching position to prepare for ordination my colleagues had a farewell for me. One of my good friends gave me a lovely gift, a glass swan on a mirror. She explained that it was intended as a ‘marker’. Her mother had always marked special occasions in her life, graduation, changes in her job and so on, with something that she could treasure and keep. She wanted me to have such a marker for my own life. I do treasure that keepsake that she gave me. Yet I know that in my life is a far more significant ‘marker’, one that in pursuing ordination I was attempting to live out. For at my baptism I was marked with the sign of the cross and made Christ’s own forever.

So I want to remind the Harper’s as they bring Isaac for baptism, that from today on there is a marker in his life. I want to remind them first of all that baptism is a sacramental act. There is an outward and visible sign, the water that is used to remind us of our need to be renewed, to be cleansed, to die to sin, to be reborn. But there is also that invisible ‘marker’, that inward and spiritual grace that is given and that carries us throughout our lives.

In one of the parishes I served, I baptised a four year old. He came to the preparation. One of the things that I showed him was the oil of chrism that I would use on his forehead. I said that it would become a marker in his life, a permanent reminder of his baptism. That made an impression on him, for a couple of years later he showed me his forehead and asked if I could still see the marker. As we are baptised we become part of the new life in Christ. We share in Christ’s power through the baptismal covenant. We are called by baptism to serve. It is, in effect, our ordination, a beginning of our ministry.

At baptism we are promised God’s gift of grace working in our lives. However, like the Ephesians we may not even be aware that there is a Holy Spirit at work in our lives. What is more, our lack of commitment to spiritual things may make it difficult for others to see God in us. We separate the Spirit from our mainline faith traditions, relegating it to the naïve or to certain denominations. Oh! We trot the Spirit out at Pentecost! But we are suspicious of people who are overly enthusiastic about the faith. We are suspicious of people who study scripture, who pray, and who share their faith. Or we think that we simply do not know enough about our faith to share it with anyone and we are certainly not going to expose our lack of knowledge by attending a Bible Study or a Prayer meeting.

How do we recover that sense of the presence and power of the Holy Spirit as the source of our gifts? We need to experience the Holy Spirit at work in us with the understanding that such encounters with God are God’s gift to every Christian. We need to expect that God will meet us in our everyday lives. God is constantly revealed to us and in us to others. Each new discovery takes us deeper into relationship with God. It is not about knowing everything there is to know about God; it is about knowing God. What a great thing that is to experience in our lives!

No matter at what stage of our Christian life we may be, there is possible a deeper encounter with God who waits to enter our experience. We must be prepared to search and to be open to such a possibility. We cannot be self-satisfied. We must journey into a maturing and deepening spirituality. Each new discovery takes us deeper. It becomes a new beginning, a new birthing, a renewal of our baptism.

In a few minutes we will welcome into the body of Christ our newest member, Isaac. As his parents and sponsors promise on his behalf, we will renew our baptismal covenant. May it bring to us that deep sense of peace, that sense that our wills and that of God are in harmony, that sense of the presence of God in our lives, and our willingness to become all that God calls us to be. May it be a time when we understand that we are beloved children of God! May it be an epiphany for each one of us! Amen.

Proper 10, Year C

I Say to You, Rise!

Readings: 1 Kings 17:8-24; Psalm 146; Galatians 1:11-17; Luke 7:1-17

The readings today are wonderful stories of how the action of God brings life into the desolation of our human condition. Whether it is physical healing or spiritual renewal, God is present with us.

First of all there is the story of the widow of Zarephath. God leads Elijah into the heart of enemy territory. It is a place where the god Baal has its stronghold. There he finds lodging with a widow. As a widow, she is one of the most vulnerable in her society. Yet she willingly helps him. Perhaps her willingness arises from her need. Whatever the reason, she is taking a chance. To harbour him, a foreigner, puts her at great risk. On the other hand, not doing so could mean starvation for herself and her child.

After a time her young son became very ill. “What have you against me?” she rails at Elijah. You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son.” It is a cry from the depths of the human heart and will be uttered in many ways until the end of time. The woman has lost her child. At least that is her presumption. She turns on Elijah in anger. She turns as we so often do, to the very one who is there to help her. It is pain, bereavement, loneliness, fear, all of her emotions looking for an outlet.

There is mixed with her anger, a sense of guilt. There must be a reason for the terrible suffering she is enduring. She must have done something terrible to deserve such treatment. It must be her fault.

That gives way to anger at God. The real culprit is God. After all, God could have prevented this from happening. God is the villain.

How often that is true in the minds of the bereaved. They may not give voice to it. But they will think it just the same. After all, if I rail against God will God make something even more terrible happen?

“Give me your son,” Elijah says to the woman. And then almost echoing her words he cries out to God for help. God answers the prayer. The woman’s son is restored to health.

Let us fast forward to the time of Jesus. He and his disciples, accompanied by a large crowd of people arrive at the town of Nain just as another procession, a funeral procession, approaches the gate. At the head of the procession is a woman, a widow, who is now burying her only son. Jesus has compassion on her. “Don’t cry!” he says to her. He is not telling her that crying is not a necessary human response to her loss. He is not telling her that she is weak for succumbing to her tears. He is not saying that there is something wrong with her. He is simply saying that there is no need for her to cry.

And then he speaks some words that must have startled the onlookers. “Young man, I say to you, rise!” What happened next must have shocked them even more. The dead man got up and began to speak to his mother.

We could get into the usual arguments about this healing. The favourite has always been, “He must have been in a coma. He wasn’t really dead at all.” What we need to understand is that at that moment Jesus is the source of new life to that young man and his family. By extension, we need to understand that Jesus is the source of new life to us.

Paul’s story is also a witness to God’s life giving action in the world. He loves to recount the transforming miracle of his conversion. Indeed, it almost sounds like bragging. He remembers the Damascus Road, the blazing light, the crashing fall, his blindness, the voice of God calling out to him. As surely as God gave new life to the dying child held in Elijah’s arms, as surely as Jesus gave new life to the young man outside Nain, so Christ gave new life to Paul. And he rejoices in it.

Let us fast forward once again to our own time. A friend of mine says that the saddest thing she had to do was to sell the family home following the death of her father. It brought home the reality of his death. As she packed up his things, memories welled up in her of shared family times, of her growing up years, and of wonderful family gatherings centered around food and always, she told me, there was music.

The sale of the home didn’t go well. The house was in a state of disrepair. The décor was less than up to date. It went for far less than she had expected. And along with it went her treasury of memories.

Some weeks later she had the opportunity to meet the new owners. Not only were they lovely people, but they had children and grandchildren and a wonderful sense of family. The most astounding thing was that they were a family of musicians.

Now looking back at her reaction to the sale, she reflects, “Who cares about money? If Dad’s home continues to be filled with love, life and music, then it was the perfect sale.”

Our human condition is such that there are many ways in which we can be regarded as dead. Our faith can be dead. Our love can be dead. Our sensitivity, or joy, or hope, or trust can be dead. All that Jesus can say to us is, “I say to you, rise!”

As surely as God gave new life to the dying child held in Elijah’s arms, as surely as Jesus gave new life to the young man outside Nain, as surely as Christ gave new life to Paul, so God offers new life to us.

So rise, and rejoice in it. Amen.