Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
As everyone was questioning in their hearts about John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered them all by saying, “I baptize you with water. One who is more powerful than I is coming. I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; and the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
After all the people were baptized and after Jesus himself was baptized and praying, the heavens opened and the spirit descended upon him in bodily form, like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the beloved. With you I am well pleased.”
Happy New Year. Which means it’s busy season for the diet and exercise industry as they take advantage of and market to all of our well-intentioned resolutions to turn over a new leaf for 2022.
And like some of you, I’ve been to the gym a few times this year already and the place has been busier than it was at the end of 2021. I’ve even avoided the gym a couple of times because I could tell from the overflowing parking lot I might have a hard time finding a treadmill.
And I hope it all works – for me, for the gym and for everyone who’s looking to be healthier with the help of it all. But, I’m skeptical. I wonder why I should expect 2022 to be any different than 2021, or 2020, or any other year for that matter. I suspect a great number of all those who will sweat it out in the next couple of weeks won’t be fighting for their spot at the gym by the time February or March roll around. I’m skeptical because I’ve dropped this ball more than once over the years.
And I worry that the same sort of thing threatens the Church – the Church in the world and the church here in our little corner of the Kingdom at Cross of Grace, too. First of all, I wonder if as many of us make resolutions about our faith the way we do about our weight or our diet or our exercise. I wonder do we resolve to pray more deliberately? So we commit to read our Bibles more often? Promise to get to worship more regularly? Set goals to give more generously?
And I wonder – and worry a bit about this some, I admit – because these pandemic days, have been a game-changer for churches, pastors and church leaders of all kinds. Something seems different – if not more difficult – or at least yet to be determined – about how our lives of faith together will look going forward.
I keep hearing about Sunday school attendance that’s down – for adults and for kids. (And I’ve noticed some of that here.)
I keep hearing about families who are staying away from worship to stay safe from the virus or staying away because worship online – under the covers or on the couch – isn’t so bad after all. (I tried it last week and I see some of the appeal, I’m not gonna lie.)
I keep hearing about how it seems increasingly more difficult to get volunteers for all sorts of ministries in the church.
And I keep hearing about worship trends in mainline Christian churches that are dropping slowly but steadily, all the time.
An Episcopal pastor I follow on Twitter tweeted this, just this week:
“This is probably the first time I’ve actually said this since the pandemic began: I’m not sure my church is going to recover from this. Oh, we’ll survive. We’ll still be here. But we’ll never be what we were. We won’t ‘go back’ to pre-pandemic attendance and involvement.”
And, as part of these conversations … this grief … this fear … this anxiety … in response to so much of what I read and hear about and see going on in churches out there in the world, many pastors and Church leaders are working really hard to come up with new plans and programs; different strategies and solutions; clever tricks and gimmicks, to get people connected and involved and engaged in a walk with God. They feel like new year’s resolutions to me – and I wonder if they will work or how long they will last.
And I’m not pointing fingers here. We’ve done our fair share of that, too; trying to revamp the GraceQuest program again; doing some new things with the High School kids; trying a new format for Faith Formation; I’m currently pouring over three different books, wondering which one will be the most interesting to as many of you as possible to engage in a study of some kind.
And I’m not complaining. Ministry has always been this way for me – always trying to find ways to make faith fun and engaging and relevant and attractive to as many people as possible; trying to convince people that this is worthwhile – for you, for us, and for the world. And I do it gladly (most of the time) because I’m ultimately hopeful about it all.
So, I don’t think God meant for there to be so much of the grief … the fear … the anxiety … that so many in the Church are feeling and fretting about these days. I think God made it a lot easier than all of that, if we can keep our perspective about what we’re up to.
And today is about perspective, because today, we commemorate, remember and celebrate the baptism of Jesus, so many years after his birth, which has captured our hearts and so much of our time over the last several weeks. And as we do that this morning, we’re meant not simply to reflect on the history of what happened to Jesus that day in the Jordan so many years ago. We’re meant to be filled up and inspired by what Jesus’ baptism means for those of us who’ve experienced it, and what it could mean for those of us who’ve yet to share in its promises, too.
Because in our service for baptism, after a person is washed with the water, “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” there is more to be said and done. A prayer is prayed, thanking God for freeing us from sin and for raising us up to new life and asking God to pour out upon us a Holy Spirit of wisdom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and might, a spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, a spirit of joy in God’s presence.
And then a promise is made: “…Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And a command is given: “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” And, even if you weren’t baptized in a traditional, Lutheran service, I suspect some very similar promises were made and some very similar commands were given.
And this is powerful, meaningful, holy stuff. And it’s good to be reminded about it every once in a while, because I think part of our collective problem as believers in the world doesn’t have so much to do with what we’re willing to fix about ourselves or our churches or our lives – policies and programs, I mean; strategies and solutions; well-intended resolutions to do more or to be better. I believe part of our problem is that we’ve neglected to see – or we forget too easily to celebrate – just what God has already done on our behalf.
And that’s what we’re called to celebrate today. When the heavens open and the spirit descends and a voice booms, “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased,” we’re meant to know that these words have been spoken on our behalf. It wasn’t just then and it wasn’t just Jesus. When we are baptized into Christ Jesus, we become partners in that promise. We are allowed to hear our own name in his place. We hear for every one of us, “You are my son… You are my daughter… You are my child… and with you I am well pleased.”
And what’s amazing about that in lots of ways is when you consider the point at which these words come to Jesus. He hadn’t done a thing yet. He hadn’t fed the 5,000. He hadn’t healed Jairus’ daughter. He hadn’t raised Lazarus from the dead, walked on water, or resisted the devil’s temptations. He hadn’t lost ten pounds or broken any records for worship attendance, either. But God loved him already and was pleased with him from the very start … not because of anything Jesus had done, but because of what God was promising to do for him and through him.
And we’re meant to hear the same promise and to receive the same command of Holy Baptism in precisely the same way. We’re meant to see this water of grace and to hear these words of love as daily invitations for our forgiveness, toward faithful service and from whatever it is that pulls us away from a closer walk with our creator.
As this new year gets underway, maybe you’re relieved that last year is over… Maybe you’re scared of what this year will hold… Maybe you can’t see past this morning or beyond next week, let alone the 356 days to come. Whatever the case, I hope you’ll remember your baptism this morning – or look forward to what it could mean for you, if you’ve never been. And I hope you see everything in your life and in this world in light of God’s grace because of it.
Don’t resolve to eat better or to exercise more or to lose weight (or anything else, for that matter) because you have to. Do it because God loves you even if you don’t and because you want to live long and well in response to that good news.
And don’t resolve to worship or learn or serve more – in this place or anywhere out there in the world – because you feel obligated by what God has invested in you.
No, let’s do everything we do as Children of God and as God’s Church in the world – resolution or not – with the sign of the cross clearly marked on your heads and in our collective heart of hearts. And let’s do it gratefully with the light of God’s grace shining through us – because our lives and the world we share will be different and better and blessed because of it.
Amen
