Lectionary Scripture – Matthew 3:13-17 NRSV
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
“Let It Be So”
Lifting her up from beneath the water and then at the edge of the stream, my young friend turned and said, “Thank you for doing this for me.” As her pastor, those gracious sincere words touched me deeply and I could do little more at the moment than thank Christine for having me baptize her.
At different times in the intervening years since Christine’s baptism, I have wondered if it would ever be possible to have a congregation full of people with her kind of personal and spiritual authenticity. My guess is that such a thing will remain out of reach given the wounds and brokenness that so many of us carry around and carefully hide and disguise. Yet I hope that one day such a possibility will arrive. I think the principles, tools, and means exist to create such faith communities. For many existing communities however, God is kept small as I heard one theologian describe it recently. God is kept conveniently small so no one is ever uncomfortable and the ones who generally win in such situations are whining malicious egos. Their placation, rather than attending to the healing needed in their lives, remains forever the orders of the day.
What I remain hopeful for are the Christines in our world, i.e. basically anyone whose life has been through hell or is in hell and realizes that if things are going to get better, they have to ask God for help and a hand up. Baptism can be and has been for many that iconic moment to stay the course toward healing and well-being. I miss my friend, Christine, as today she lives on the other side of the world. I am however so pleased at the direction her life has taken as she has married, lives in Europe with her husband, Erik. She’s expecting and the couple awaits the arrival of their child due in April. Robert, who is Christine’s son from a previous relationship, eagerly awaits his new sibling and is learning Dutch. I wish all of them well but regret the loss of their presence, yet I was reminded recently not to lose hope for my dream of a truly healing faith community. The reminder was actually quite simple when Christine recently sent me a note via Facebook and said, “….you mean the world to me. Thank you for being there in some of my darkest times. I like it much better out here in the light.”
The lectionary focus on baptism, Christine’s message, her faith journey, and reflecting on her baptism cause me to think more carefully about this sacrament in the Christian tradition. More often than not in the past, I have thought of baptism as a ritual or a rite of passage. Other times, I have felt quite discouraged about it due to those ministers for whom a baptism is little more than their latest bragging right or the most recent notch on their evangelistic gun-belt. At other times, it serves as a statistic of primary interest to denominational authority figures. When I’m confronted however with the effects of baptism upon someone like Christine, I find myself enticed into very different space, a strangely familiar space.
The strangely familiar space hearkens back to my own baptism and confirmation at the age of eight in my home congregation at that time in Coalville, Iowa. To that point in my life, I don’t have much memory of feeling loved by God. On the occasion however of my baptism and confirmation, when elders in our church laid hands on my head to prayerfully induct me into church membership, I was completely unprepared for what followed. And what followed was a complete and overwhelming sense of being loved, basically an infusion of God’s Spirit I had never felt before which permeated my entire being. The warmth and calming influence of that experience coupled with the sense of belonging made this singular impression, “So this is what it’s all about it. Everyone should have this!” Maybe someday everyone will.
There are those who would consider the above experience as justification for why everyone needs to become Christian. I don’t see it that way. What I do see is that baptism is one of those iconic moments through which God touches our lives in very real and concrete ways. After all, the purpose and function of an icon is simply that it assists in bridging our human souls to the nurturance which only the divine and spiritual can bring into our lives. For lack of a better analogy at the moment, consider an icon to be the fork or the spoon we use to take nourishment into our bodies. And as we all know, such implements can be quite simple and utilitarian or incredibly ornate and artistic.
Iconic moments that bridge to the Divine will be different from one faith tradition to another, they will be different even from one adherent to another in the same tradition. In the late 1980s, a co-worker learned that I was soon to leave the mental health profession to go into full time ministry. She was curious as to why I would do that particularly in terms of the Christian faith for in her perception Christianity was the last place anybody should think of investing a career anymore.
When I asked why not, I heard about her faith journey from Christianity into Buddhism and how it was far more satisfying and far less judgmental. From the conversation, I also learned that she was soon to partake in an iconic moment of her own, i.e. enshrinement -- a rite/ritual which would complete her induction into her particular Buddhist tradition. Touched by her description of this sacred event, I mentioned that my new supervisor in the church was Buddhist-Christian. Surprised, she wondered how that could be, so I shared some aspects of the faith tradition I belong to.
At the close of our sharing, I said to my co-worker, “It is my belief that in the end, no matter what our faith may be, we’re all seeking the same thing and hoping to touch the same thing. In time, I think we humans will finally discover what that is and perhaps then there will be peace for everyone.”
My co-worker closed our conversation saying, “I wish my minister could have talked about Christianity the way you do. If he had, I doubt I would have ever left it.” Thinking back on that conversation now, the words above from Jesus come to mind, "Let it be so now -- for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness."
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