On the baptism of Forrest

      God made it rather easy to slide back into Advent this week.  I had my choice of three modern sermon illustrations.  The first was within a few minutes and miles of leaving Maine.  There was a horrible crash right in front of us on I-95.  The rear-ender was clearly totaled, but the occupants seemed mostly unhurt.  The car careened off the four southbound lanes and was headed into the woods.  The passenger thought it might never stop or would hit a tree and bailed in the grass on the side of the road.  My family is used to such Good Samaritan events in our life, so David guided our car to the emergency shoulder on the right so I could see if anybody needed assistance.  Thankfully, people were shook up but mostly unhurt.  All I really had to do was threaten the driver that I would tackle her if she tried to make her way to the far left lane to check on the driver and dog of the car that got rear ended.  The lady had given me a thumbs-up as I walked back to the car, but I-95 traffic is I-95 traffic, no matter where you are on it.  People may have slowed to 65-70mph, but they were certainly whizzing between us and kicking up car parts that had ended up on the road as a result of the crash.

     As I finished up at St. Mark’s last week, a lady wanted to speak with me about Advent’s lack of clear articulation of its opposition to abortion on our web page and about the national church’s horrible policy.  That discussion was way too challenging for a homily, but I used our parable today to speak to our neighbors’ needs in different parishes.  We have way more people suffering from food insecurity and address that far more prominently, though we get a good laugh from time to time about the age of most of our women and the thought of them having a Sarai-like experience and giving birth at 100 years of age!  She was not amused, but I did ask if she thought the beaten man in today’s story cared about the Samaritan’s view on any number of subjects like abortion.  That hit home and where our conversation turned productive.

     That left me with an event from a virtual friend’s life.  I will not name him, so do not worry.  And we are not friends in real life, as we have never actually met in person, though we do trade e-mails and posts.  Some of you might possibly recognize his name from online threads and discussions, so I will leave it to him to share his identity.  The crazy thing is that we do not agree on everything in the church.  He might say that I am bit to reformed in my sacramental theology to be a good priest for him, and I would certainly say his love of sung services and smells and bells means he should not be one of those sheep given me by God.  Good!  We also mostly laugh at such discussions.

     This friend exited his gym on Monday in NYC and encountered a gentleman laying on the ground.  Despite our disagreements on some things in church and in the world, I will state that he seems always to be taking his faith seriously, far more seriously than some colleagues of mine and friends of his would like.  This past week, though, he found himself in this position unprepared.  What should he do?  NYC is a much different context than Nashville.  For one, it’s what, 12-13 times bigger than here?  That’s a LOT of people.  That means there are more con artists, scammers, and flat out criminals than we have in Nashville.  That means more people there will pretend to be helpless there than here, hoping to find a sucker or weakling.  Maybe he had a knife?  Maybe he was mentally ill?  Maybe he was really sick?  What do we do if we encounter that need?  If you find yourself worried about how you would respond, welcome to Jesus’ instruction.  Everyone who heard him in Luke’s narrative would have thought the priest and Levite acted understandably.

     I will say that every thought that went through his head was appropriate.  There was a chance a mentally ill person might take out their frustration or anger on my friend, if he offered to help.  It was possible the man was passed-out drunk.  It was possible, too, that he might be robbed.  It’s possible, too, that the individual was in desperate need of assistance, assistance that my friend was unable and untrained to give.  Heck, it was possible the man in question had just decided to sleep in that spot, for whatever reason.  What to do?

      Fortunately, within a few moments of this encounter, an ambulance came careening around the corner with lights flashing and siren wailing.  My friend said it felt like he spent hours trying to figure out what to do, though I am fairly certain it was just a few seconds, and he was embarrassed that somebody had thought to call 911 before he did.

     His real question to me and other clergy was what he should have done to glorify God in that situation.

     In truth, Scripture gives us principles rather than specific instructions.  I could not tell him to turn to 3 Thessalonians 32:3 to see what to do when one encounters a seeming emergency like this upon exiting the gym.  As we continued our conversation this week, I could not even tell him I really thought he had sinned or dishonored God in this situation.  In fact, in the simple act of staying until the EMTs arrived, he had been present, as much as the victim could be aware of his presence.  Maybe that was the role my friend was meant to play in that scene and so glorified God.  As he wrestled with this and the possibility he had unintentionally dishonored God, I could not tell him that I thought he needed Absolution.  I would have granted it were he present with me and could articulate a sin, but I was having a hard time with that.  In the end, I reminded him that we pray to God to forgive us sins unknown.  If there was an unknow sin in this situation, God would forgive him because of His desire for mercy and in spite of our ignorance.

     And then I played priest and reminded him that he would never again hear the parable of the Good Samaritan in the same way.  It would be far more personal from this week forward.  But now he had a chance to consider what he did, bounce his behavior off friends and clergy, and discern what other steps he might take in the future, were he to find himself in a similar situation.  God often disciples us in small manageable steps.  He needed to be prepared for the next similar event.  It was not until Wednesday or Thursday that he realized the parable was assigned for today.

     The story of the Good Samaritan serves as a great parable for a baptism.  Jesus reminds us that our job is to love God with everything we have and to love our neighbors as ourselves as the summation of the torah.  Baptism, in a sacramental way, reminds us of that instruction, and spells out the relationship into which we enter when we are baptized.  Those who heard the parable in the narrative of Luke would have understood why the priest and the Levite passed by, just as you and I understand why my friend struggled in his predicament.  Their likely issue was one of cleanliness as ours is one of safety.  But the reminder is that this is not what God intended.  Even at our very best, God meant for us to experience far more wonders.  Though Forest has no say in the matter today, Robyn and Patrick and the rest of his family and all of us at Advent are promising God today that we will do our very best to help Forest to grow in his love and knowledge of God and his neighbors and that, when he fails like us, he and we need only repent and return to God.  We will be successful, we acknowledge and proclaim, only with God’s help in that effort.  Much of what we do, what the Church calls liturgy, is the work of creating spiritual muscle.  We will incarnate the vow that Robyn and Patrick make today on his behalf and, hopefully, one day Forest takes on for himself at Confirmation.  God will make us signs of the individual graces that our in us, to use a bit more Episcopal language.  At our very best, our words and actions will align, but we remind ourselves this day that sin is ever present, that our values do not always align, and STILL God loves us like He does little Forest.

     In some ways, little Forest is blessed, though there may be times in the future, especially the teenage future, where he disagrees with that statement.  He is being baptized into this community.  We take our calling to love God above all things and our neighbor as ourselves seriously.  The most visible sign of that grace present in us is Body & Soul, a name chosen by Hilary & Nancy to reflect the work to which they thought us called.  We give our neighbors suffering from food insecurity our best, because God the Father gave us His very best in HIs Son our Lord.  We give those whom we serve choice, in part hoping that they, in turn, will honor the choice given them by God and choose to worship Him, to serve others in His Name.  And those working on the frontline of that ministry get to experience the wonder and joy of those whom we serve.  When we offer them steaks or lamb or lobster or fresh produce or ice cream or whatever, and they thank us, we get that bit of insight of the joy and thankfulness which God’s people throughout time and in all contexts are called to evidence in their lives, right?  Best of all, we do all of this as ourselves!  Nobody needs to pretend to be anything.  We are not holy; we are not whom we will be in Christ when He returns.  But we are serving our Lord because He first served us!  We can be ourselves, with a few self-limitations for Episcopal decorum, because we understand at a fundamental level that God loved our uniqueness enough to go through the agony of the Cross on our behalf!  We know what it truly means to have someone loving us and seeing us as individuals worth saving.

     Other ministries, such as Room in the Inn or our work with Insight or our efforts to work ecumenically with the Armenians, the Mar Thoma, and the MCF, or even our efforts to create this sacred space where people can just sit and know that God is near, enable us to incarnate that grace better, through God’s help, in the lives of all those around us, but especially for those who are likewise baptized into Christ’s Death and Resurrection. 

      Though Forest has advantages over some, life will likely not be a bed of roses.  He will make mistakes.  He will sin.  Perhaps the sins of others will impact him.  And then we get to show Him grace.  Fortunately for us, Robyn and Patrick get the bulk of THAT responsibility in young Forest’s life—that’s the big challenge of parenting.  But if Robyn and Patrick and all of us do our jobs, Forest will learn that God uses suffering over and over again to reach others, that God is aware of any suffering he might experience, and that God promises in the end to redeem our suffering for His own glory.  And because God binds Himself to Forest in this sacrament today, he and we know that God shares in the honor and dishonor which he and we experience each and every moment of life.  Best of all, he like we is promised that the baptism into Christ’s death means, in the end, he will be raised with us (hopefully some time in the long distant future) into Christ’s Resurrection!

     Best of all, and maybe craziest of all, God entrusts that knowledge and hope will be passed on by individuals like us and like Forest will, one day, become!  God calls us to love Him with everything and to love our neighbors as ourselves, that the world may know the heart of its Creator and turn to the Lord’s saving embrace.  So often that first step, that first nudge is a helping hand, a compassionate heart.  But such is the hand and heart our Lord modeled for us as He worked His way to Calvary!

 

In His Promise,

Brian+

Be merciful, as our Father is merciful . . .

      God waited until the last minute, but He finally gave me my sermon illustration I needed for today.  Joshua was upset this am as the technology stuff was not working.  Comcast was here for a few hours while we were doing the Vestry retreat, so I am guessing the problem was not yet completely fixed.  Or maybe they created a new problem.  I am of the opinion the Comcast is an unholy owned subsidiary of Satan, as, perhaps, are all the telecoms and probably a few other companies if I spent some time really considering things.  Good.  You are laughing and realize it is a bit of humor and sarcasm with a hint of plausibility.

     Anyway, it drives Joshua nuts when things do not work the way they are supposed to work.  I was trying to calm him down and remember the serenity prayer that my maternal grandmother had posted a couple places in the house and I often heard her say.  I drew a blank, though, in the Vesting Room, which is crazy given the number of AA meetings that have been held at churches where I have served.  I told him the prayer asks God to give us strength and courage to change the things I can and the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and discernment to know the difference.  Then I shared with Joshua, as I was trying to recollect the prayer, that Grandma Kitty said it a lot around me.  I chuckled, as did he.  Then he said it was a good thing that I and mom did not have it posted in our house, because we would be saying it A LOT.

     I share the story not just to give you a laugh and a bit of insight into our family dynamic, but maybe to encourage you to think about your own family dynamics.  Families are crazy good at passing down dynamics and systems.  Counselors make a small fortune off us helping us to change unhealthy patterns and dynamics because they get implanted in us, handed down to us, whether we want them to come to our families or not.  I mean, really, how many of us men swore as kids we would never tell a bad dad joke when we were kids?  Be honest now.  How many of us men are now trying hard to outdo our dads or our grandfathers because we want to be the worst dad joke tellers in our families?  I think a couple of you are going to have to confess, given a few sheepish expressions.  lol  Families are the smallest unit of community, as Aristotle famously observed, so it makes sense that we are shaped and formed, for good or for ill, by those families of which we are a part.

     The Gospel reading in Luke today is very well known.  Many non-Christians even know most of this passage.  And I must confess, I think Robert Jensen, preached a good sermon on this that stuck with me, which is to say, if this ends up being a good sermon, thank him.  If it ends up being bad, that’s all on me.  The teaching comes after Luke’s account of the Sermon on the Mount.  Luke shares that Jesus gave those who heard both blessings and woes.  Rather than stop after pronouncing the woes, Jesus forges ahead to describe a new way of relating.  Really, it is the way God intended in the beginning, but the world has always chosen darkness of His light.

     All of the verbs about how to behave in the face of evil or ill treatment by the wicked are in the present, ongoing tense.  Love, do good, bless, pray, turn, offer, and give.  Jesus is citing a number of activities that happen in the world and instructing His disciples, and us, how to behave in light of what is happening.  Chances are, whatever is causing you anxiety in the world is addressed by one of those present tense verbs.  That is not to say that Jesus’ list is exhaustive.  In fact, Jensen argued that the verbs are meant to draw us in and cause us to add to the list with more specific examples of our own day.  You know, like be patient when the person ahead of you in the grocery check out line cannot get off the phone to check out or maybe still depends on checks rather than a debit card when finally paying.  Whoa, that was a groan!  I'm with you, sometimes I think the sin against the Holy Spirit described by Jesus is when they wait until everything is rung up and THEN they start looking for their checkbook.  lol  Jesus goes on to point out that when we honor people we like, love people who love us, give to people from whom we expect to be paid back, we are no different than the wicked or the sinners.  They treat people that way.  We have a different standard, however, because of the “money statement” of the passage.

     “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”  That’s verse 36 in our passage today, and it is in red letters in those Bibles that claim to stress Jesus’ words in them.  You and I are called into this family, we call the Church or, specifically in our case, Advent.  And it is here that we are expected to practice, to test this old way, the way God intended, for us to live, before we head out into the world to do it for real.  Y’all might not be surprised at the analogy, but you attend a church that has a “we are family” banner hanging from the parish hall walls and a mission statement that stresses our multi-generational effort to make disciples.  Sally shared that observation with the Vestry yesterday during the retreat.  We are a bit unusual in the Church.  But that unusual understanding makes us perfect for the work we have to do out there, manifesting the mercy of our Father in our lives, like any son or daughter manifests any characteristic of their parent.

     What do I mean?  First, that on-going process.  Think of the people whom we know who count themselves Christians because they declared one day they believed or they underwent a believer’s baptism.  When the stress is on the choice, what often happens?  There is not always growth, discipleship, and any manifestation of God’s character in the life of the so-called believer.  Look in the wider world over the events of the last couple weeks.  How many public professing Christians are rejoicing that people are losing their jobs or scared they might be losing the job thanks to the activities of Musk and the President?  I’m talking rejoicing.  A number of non-Adventers shared on my social media these last two weeks the fact that more than 12,000 homes went on the market in and around DC.  They are excited and rejoicing people are losing homes, that children are being uprooted from schools, that communities are being broken up, that uncertainty is being thrust upon people who were only doing the job for which they were hired and trained.  Do they really think Jesus would cheer such activities and results?  Do you?  But if you believe discipleship ends with the choice, it is easier to understand why some self-described Christians do not believe there is work yet to do, formation yet to occur. 

     Or what of the non-attending believer that loves to convince me they are really Christian?  I spend literal hours every year with strangers trying to convince me they are Christian.  Mind you, almost none are Episcopalian; most find their way into my office from other denominations.  My calling, though, as a professional Christian, is to ask if they gather to worship, to pray, to study, and to exhort and be exhorted, to comfort and to be comforted, to share the amazing things God has done in their lives and to hear what our Lord has done in the lives of those around them.  More often than not, they tell me they do not need to be in a community to worship God, that they pray when they need to, and that they can study a Bible any time they want.  The truly indignant, though, will express they cannot gather with others because there are too many hypocrites in the pews.  How many times have you heard me tell them they are right and that we have room for them, too?  When they are not worshiping God, when they are not praying to and listening to God, and when they are not studying what He has caused to be gathered into Scripture, their growth is stunted, or worse, goes in directions it should not, much like a plant that will bend toward a bright light in lieu of the sun.  There’s no worry on their part because they chose Jesus on this date or that date,  He has to accept them.  Because they do not study what He says, they do not understand the fear and trembling with which we work out our faith.  They do not understand the warnings and instructions He gives to all who hear Him.  They have forgotten that Jesus reminds His disciples that in serving the least we serve Him, and that in neglecting the least we neglect Him.  And the consequence of neglecting is not something anyone likes to ponder.  But that is work that begins in the church, where we wrestle with God, where we struggle with His teachings, where we are convicted by the Holy Spirit, and where we have our first glimmers of the transformative grace that He promises to all who call upon Him.

     You are liturgical Christians, so you know this even if you do not think about it.  We pray, we read what God caused to be written, a clergy preaches and teaches on one of the readings, then we re-affirm our faith, confess our sins, are absolved and share the peace.  Then, and only then, are nourished by the Sacrament, by the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.  What we are called to do, how we are called to live, is so counter-the-world, so different, that our Lord Christ on the night before He was betrayed instituted the Sacrament.  He knew before He walked that final path of mercy that led to Calvary.  We need that mystical nourishment, so oppressive is the world in which we live, in order to live in accordance with the perspective and the instructions our Lord gives and expects of us.

     Our first practice of mercy is likely in the Church.  It is in the Church that we are reminded we do not get to choose our families.  In this case, God does.  Y’all are laughing, but only because you had families in which to learn the truth of that axiom.  Church serves the same role for God’s family.  We learn to live out His teachings by working our spiritual muscles here.  Think of the Peace as a good example.  How hard is it to shake hands with or hug or kiss someone who drives us nuts, to say nothing about those with whom we are at enmity?  Yet that is precisely what Jesus instructs us to do, especially in our reading from this day.  And we learn from Paul that approaching that altar to eat His flesh and drink His blood without settling our disputes and asking to be forgiven for our sins, means we blaspheme the Sacrament and His teaching, we reject the mercy that only He can give.  We aggrieve His heart.  “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

     Over time, as we repeat this liturgy each week, each month, and each year, we come to realize the mercy which our Lord has shown us.  As we ask Him again and again to forgive us our sins, and are absolved, we are reminded of our own need for mercy.  And as we grow in understanding of our own need for mercy, we begin to realize the need of mercy for those around us.  We begin to internalize that they are no different from us, especially in God’s eyes.  And so, in time, we become heralds of mercy or, to use the language of Epiphany, we manifest mercy to those in the world around us, that God might be honored and glorified in our lives, and that others will turn to Him, and be saved.  The style of worship we use, the liturgy which was handed down by the Apostles, steeps us in God’s mercy so that we might be merciful, just as our Father is merciful.

     I get it.  It is hard work.  The better news, though, is that God understands how hard that work is.  He makes it clear in His Scriptures.  He makes it clear in the instructions He gave during the Incarnation.  He makes it clear in our liturgy.  All of that helps us to see in our own hearts our need for mercy.  And then reminded, restored, and nourished in His mercy, we are sent back out into the world to share His mercy with those whom we encounter out there.

     But that hard work comes with the promise of great reward in the end.  It is almost as if Jesus understood the human heart.  If we are merciful, we will be shown mercy.  Or, to use the red letters of Jesus, “for with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”  Those kinds of promises are scary, aren’t they.  How we treat others is how we will be treated by God when He judges us.  Jesus does not add the “by God” at the end.  But all of us have been in families long enough to understand that promise or threat.  God instructs us to be like Him, to repent when we fail, but to be like Him.  We should be mindful when we fail of His mercy and exhorted all the more to be merciful to others, that He will treat us in that loving way in which we long to be treated.  But we refuse mercy at our own peril.  We rejoice at the sufferings of others warned of dire consequences.

     I know today’s teaching is hard.  I get that for some it sets us up to be preyed upon by the wicked and the evil.  Such would be the risk, were Jesus not raised from the dead that Easter morning.  Because He was raised you and I know God’s power and will to redeem all things in the end.  We can show mercy and risk losing everything, even our lives, because we know Christ’s expression of mercy on the Cross and God’s power to redeem even that death.  He demonstrated that mercy to each one of us, long before we called Him Lord.  Reminded of that, and of His merciful heart, we are once again a sent people, sent to be merciful, as our Father is merciful, convinced that He has already conquered those evils which would destroy us or separate us from His presence.  We sent to be merciful, just as He is merciful.

 

In His Peace and Mercy,

Brian+