Haunted

Sermon preached Sunday, January 7, 2023, Baptism of Our Lord, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour, in North Chesterfield, VA. 

I have had baptism on the brain lately.

It’s not just because I knew this reading was coming up, as it always does, right after Epiphany. No, I think it’s because there is a lot of baptism in my life right now.

You all bore witness to Ellie’s baptism in November. Very good friends of ours are having their baby baptized this morning in York, Pennsylvania. And in a couple weeks, I will be in Pittsburg participating in the baptism of my newest godson, Asher. I just ordered his “snuggly saint,” a stuffed doll of St. Brigid made my orthodox nuns in Kentucky, to go with his older brother’s St. George.
So, yes, I’ve had baptism on the brain.

And all of these baptisms have involved babies. Babies under six months old, who are still sleepy and mostly helpless. We baptize infants and young children because we know it is God acting in that water and in those words and we trust that God’s promises come through. We do not wait for people to “understand,” as if we every fully could. Still, because we baptize so young, and because infant baptism has become the norm in our tradition, sometimes the way we view baptism doesn’t get the full picture.

When we picture a baptism, we picture a family, a baby held in arms, maybe wearing a special outfit. That sweet little face is sometimes sleeping, sometimes not, sometimes screaming when the water hits their head, but that just makes the congregation chuckle a little bit. It is a sweet moment. But baptism, at its core, isn’t a sweet, saccharine thing portrayed by a Precious Moments figuring. It is, or it has the power to be, life-changing. It is a radical act of love by God.

Another pastor was talking about baptism and he used a quote from the novel “A River Runs Through It”: “I am haunted by water.” He went on to explore the things we are haunted by and how, in some parts, we are haunted by the waters of baptism.

At first reading, this troubled me. After all, “haunted” is a word with pretty bad connotations, right? We use it to talk about ghosts, or trauma, or addictions, things that are terrible, but that we can’t escape from.

I took the liberty of looking up the actual definition of haunt and, while there are some examples where the word is used to describe the paranormal or something disturbing, there is also a way in which this word means to simply be persistently in the mind of…and isn’t our baptism, ideally, something that should be persistently in our minds?

Certainly, there are those negative things we are haunted by:

  • Despair, when we see violence and the death of innocent people, or oppression and injustice.
  • Cynicism, when we know that the world is not fair and we expect others to take advantage of us at every turn.
  • Indifference, when we are faced with big issues of climate change, political turmoil, hunger, and unaffordable housing and it’s hard to imagine that our actions could have any sort of impact whatsoever.
  • Loneliness, when friendships break down and relationships become a struggle.
  • Guilt, our own guilt that we just aren’t enough—good enough, smart enough, wealthy enough, far enough along on this imaginary life checklist.

We are haunted by all the feelings that attempt to tell us, over and over again, that we aren’t okay, that we aren’t really loved, that we aren’t really forgiven, that we aren’t really God’s.

But then we can remember that we are also haunted by baptism, we are also haunted by the water that God has troubled and stirred up and made holy on our behalf, and the only water that can quiet those other persistent occupiers of our mind. This water refreshes, renews, restores, and fills up the nooks and crannies where those other haunts reside.In baptism, God makes us children and heirs of the promise of salvation. We are claimed and named as God’s beloved and sealed with the cross of Christ forever. How is that for persistence?

Baptism does not mean an easy life. It doesn’t mean a simple one. It doesn’t mean that everything we do will be perfect or that we will never struggle with those old haunts of despair or loneliness or guilt. It’s likely we will, because we are human and our brains and hearts and spirits often communicate different things to us, even things that we know aren’t true, but we still can’t shake.

No, baptism is not a magic wand for a perfect life. Instead, it is a grounding, a life-line, a way-station in a turbulent world. It never lets us forget the ultimate truth of who we are and who we belong to. Baptism means that even when (not if!) we are haunted by things that seek to hurt us or separate us from God and our neighbor, God will not allow it. The tether will hold fast and lead us back to God’s abundant grace and love and mercy.

Several weeks ago, I was talking with someone who struggled for a long time with anxiety and depression. (I have their permission to share this story.) After years with therapy and different medications, they still weren’t quite at the baseline that most of us who do not have clinical depression and anxiety live at. Last January, they began Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, or TMS, and they also embarked on a wonderful and fulfilling new relationship. Both the TMS and the relationship, along with the established meds and therapy, were life-changing.

2023 rolled along with a new sense of peace and happiness. The same things that would have caused anxiety spirals the year before were now dealt with in a more even-keeled manner. I experienced more openness and engagement in-person than I’d seen in a while.

And then, at the beginning of December, I got a text message asking to talk. When I called back, they told me that they were feeling the way they did before. It had all come flooding back, the same feelings of anxiety and depression and the helplessness of it all. And on top of it, I think there was fear that this was the new normal again.

As we talked, I reminded them again and again that the work they’d done, the progress they’d made with TMS, the development of this healthy relationship, it was not all for naught. It didn’t go away because there was this step back. It felt like drowning, but they could see the surface of the water and a hand reaching down to help them. In the end, this episode only lasted a day or two, which was pretty great compared to before.

For me, this is similar to how I think about baptism. It doesn’t erase the bad parts of our lives. It doesn’t cure physical illness or mental health struggles. It doesn’t repair broken ties in our families or communities. BUT it can keep us from drowning. It can remind us of the good in our lives, the love of God, and the support of our faith community.

We can’t keep ourselves from being haunted. We can’t create an emotional bubble suit around ourselves. Not only would it be impossible, but it would also prevent us from living the whole human experience. So yes, we will be haunted by things like loneliness and guilt and indifference. But, and most importantly, we are also and always haunted, in the best possible sense, by water, by love, by grace—by our baptism.

Amen.

Beginnings

Sermon preached Sunday, January 10, 2021, Baptism of Our Lord, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

So it’s the beginning of a new year. That’s what I’m reminded of everyday as I struggle to end my dates with a “1” instead of a “0.”

It was a tough year. So many of us are more than happy to bid goodbye to 2020.

We celebrated the new church year way back in November! The church calendar rebooted with the first Sunday of Advent, and our preparatory journey to the cradle of Christ. Today we’re celebrating the baptism of Jesus—another beginning, the beginning of Jesus’ ministry on earth.

Beginnings are all around us. What beginnings are you facing? Maybe there are some exciting ones! A new job, a new home, a new child in your life, whether it’s your own son or daughter, a grandchild, or part of another close friend or family group. Some beginnings are simply exhilarating, aren’t they?

…but then there are those beginnings which are tougher. Perhaps the beginning of being unemployed. The beginning of living without a loved one around anymore. The beginning of dealing with or treating an illness once it’s been diagnosed. Beginnings are often very scary. We don’t know what to expect from them. The very nature of them mean that they have not been experienced before!

Today’s readings are all about beginnings, too—did you catch that?

In the first reading from Genesis, we start at the very beginning—the creation of the world! God speaks light and there is light! Day and Night are created and named and thus creation has begun.

In the second reading, Paul comes to Ephesus and finds disciples who have been faithful in following Jesus, but have not been baptized and have not received the Holy Spirit. Paul baptizes them himself and when the receive the Holy Spirit, they immediately begin speaking in tongues and prophesying—this new, more focused phase of their discipleship has started.

And, finally, in the Gospel reading from Mark, Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan River. In this moment, when the Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove, Jesus’ ministry is kicked off!

The beginnings don’t come from nothing—they don’t come from a complete blank stage. Rather, these beginnings come from God entering our world and, through a new beginning, bringing about good. Because whatever beginning God makes will indeed be good.

In Genesis God is faced with a formless void of earth. The universe is chaos, churning water in the deep and darkness everywhere. God enters in and begins creation: “Let there be light.” And God saw that the light was good. Not only did God change the world with those few words, but God changed the world for good.

In the case of the Ephesian disciples, they think they are doing their best. They are following Jesus as best as they can, trying to live faithful lives. Paul joins them and informs them that they need to be baptized. They agree, God enters in, in the person of the Holy Spirit, and they are changed forever. Their lives will never be the same again, but their lives have been changed for good. They can now preach about the Holy Spirit, whom they had never heard of before! They can prophesy! They can speak in tongues! They can more effectively spread the Gospel.

And finally, at the beginnings of Jesus’ ministry on earth, God enters in again. Jesus is immersed in the water and as he is coming up, the skies are torn apart and the Holy Spirit comes down. A new beginning, marked by this coming of the Holy Spirit, has been embarked upon. And the voice from heaven says “…You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Another way to translate this: “You are my Son, the beloved; I find goodness in you.” Once again, God calls this new beginning good.

Today we celebrate this baptism of Jesus because it is important. Jesus’ baptism changed everything for us. Because of Jesus’ baptism, our baptisms do more than free us of our sins. Because of Jesus’ baptism, we are forever called children of God through ours.

Saint Paul writes, “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized in his death? …if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Romans 6:3,5)

Martin Luther wrote that “To be baptized in God’s name is to be baptized not by human beings but by [God’s own self].”

Baptism has given us one new beginning: a once-and-for-all reconciliation with God. But baptism also gives us the opportunity for a new beginning each and every day. Our baptism is a calling—a calling to love and serve our neighbor as ourselves, to share the good news of Jesus Christ, to work for peace and justice, to live in harmony with creation. And every single day we have the chance to live out that calling again. Think of it as a “daily garment” that you wear as you leave the house. [Luther’s Large Catechism: Concerning Baptism]

If you are always wearing your baptism, what might that mean? What can our baptisms cause to happen in us? What can our baptisms cause us to do, if we let them? Does our baptism call us to merely survive, or to live? There’s a difference there!

What might it look like if you took your baptism to heart and attempted to wear it proudly and vibrantly, day after day. Would you speak differently? Would you act differently picking out vegetables in the grocery store? Would you have more patience when you drove? Would you be more gracious to the rude person who cuts in front of you at the cashier at Target? Would you be more generous when asked to contribute to a good cause?

Embracing our baptismal identities like this can be really hard and really scary. Frankly, it’s usually easier to be standoffish, or to keep our guards up, than to engage people and be prepared to love them no matter what they do. If we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we can get hurt…and no one wants that. But to fully reap the rewards of living freely as God’s people, we need to live confidently in God’s grace.

Because as we have seen, God entering into our lives is never neutral. When God enters in, it is always for good. At creation, God saw that the light was good. At Jesus’ baptism, God saw that he was good. And in every way God enters our lives, God will see to it that it is good.

Not perfect. Not without fault. Not free of conflict, or confusion, or hurt, or pain, but good. Life-giving. Life-fulfilling. Purposeful. Serving the will of God and God’s desire for reconciliation with all of creation.

“It is good.”

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

What’s in a Name?

Sermon preached Sunday, January 13, 2019, Baptism of Our Lord, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

Names can have a lot of power. When we are born, names are often the first gift we are given. We have nothing in the world, no power, no wealth, no possessions, but then we are given a name—something that will belong to us for the rest of our lives. Even if we change our name, that first name will still be a part of our history.

Names are reflections of our identity, of our culture, and of our values. You share names, especially, last names, with people who come out of a similar culture. Your name might reflect a greater trend in society, when every other kid in your class had the same one. I grew up with more Katies and Ashleys than I was able to keep track of! Your name might even be one you chose as an adult, to better reflect who you understand yourself to be.

Names tell us to whom we belong. Shared family names carry weight. For those of you who have gotten married, or chosen to change your last name for your partner, I’m sure your original family name still has significance, as you celebrate traditions that came from the “Jones” side of the family or the recipe that you had every Christmas Day growing up in the “Smith” household.

Names are funny things because they both reinforce our ties and connections to others, all while keeping us independent. Our last names bind us together. Our first names assert our individuality. Names serve a lot of different purposes. Names have power.

Being called by our name is even more powerful. Sometimes it’s a silly thing: picking up our coffee at the Starbucks counter, or finally being called back to the doctor’s exam room after a long wait. There is great stock placed on being called the right name or the wrong name. Being called the right name feels good, feels right, feels validating. Being called the wrong name, however, can be frustrating, upsetting, or even feel dismissive.

What name we are called tells us who knows us well and who is a stranger. When telemarketers call and ask for “Rebecca Ajar,” I know immediately that they do not know me. And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of nicknames or pet names, the names that are only reserved for certain people. Do you have a name that only one or two other people use? It’s a special feeling, isn’t it, knowing that you have this relationship that is unique and important and valuable.

Our family knows our name, or names—the things we are called by and known as. Our friends know. Our coworkers, our acquaintances that we see occasionally as we go about our lives. All of these people know us and know our name…at least one of our names. …and so does God. God knows every name we have…and calls us by it.

“Thus says the LORD,” says the Prophet Isaiah, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:1-2)

“I have called you by name, you are mine.” What beautiful words from the mouth of God! God, the incredible creator of the entire universe, is telling us, in no uncertain terms, that we are loved and we are God’s. We belong to God and God has given us a tangible sign of that love and belonging—God has given us baptism.

This morning we celebrate and commemorate the baptism of our Lord. Jesus, after his birth, after his presentation at the temple, after the wisemen have left, after his family fled to Egypt and returned, after growing up and becoming an adult in Nazareth, Jesus comes to the Jordan River to by baptized by John, along with everyone else waiting along the banks.

Jesus’ was baptized, and it’s like our baptism, but it is not the same. It is instead an inaugural event. It is the first baptism in a new kind of baptism. John’s baptism is for the forgiveness of sins. He proclaims that the one coming after him will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Later, Jesus tells his disciples to baptize in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’ baptism is not to forgive his sins. It is instead a sign. As the Holy Spirit comes down from above, the voice of God is heard: “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Jesus’ baptism tells us who Jesus is, just as our baptisms tell us who we are.

In our own baptisms, we are claimed and named by God. We are joined to Christ in the waters of baptism. We are joined to Christ, we have died to sin and been risen to new life. We have been given a new identity with our brothers and sisters in Christ. It is almost as if the sky opened again, for each one of us, and the Holy Spirit descended and the voice of God spoke again from the prophet Isaiah: “I have called you by name, you are mine.”

Do you remember the day you were baptized? Do you ever think about it? I was an infant, only about two weeks old when I was baptized. I don’t remember anything, except what I’ve seen in pictures of my Lutheran pastor Grandpa Schmitt holding me in front of a font in Hobbs, New Mexico. Is it any different for you? Were you baptized as an infant? As a teenager? As an adult? Were you baptized in a church or in the ocean like a friend of mine from high school? Was your family there and supportive or were you instead only surrounded by friends from your church community?

Truth be told, we’re not always great at remembering and recognizing our true baptismal identity in our daily life. It doesn’t really matter how the baptism happened. We believe in one baptism for the Christian church and believe, along with most other Christians, that any baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, regardless of denomination is holy and true. I think, however, that we could do a better job of remembering that baptism is a life-long journey and vocation. It is not a one-time event so much as it is a starting point for our life in Christ and Christian community.

How can we live this way? Maybe starting by marking yourself with the cross when you pray or when you are feeling discouraged. Use that sign of the cross to remind yourself that you are a child of God. Martin Luther suggested that in the morning, as you wash yourself, you can splash around with the water a bit, reminding yourself of the water splashed on you in your baptism. As you encounter people with whom you disagree, as things happen that upset you or as you get frustrated or angry with people in or outside the church take a moment, stop, and think about your baptism and how they are a child of God as well. Think about how you are joined together with them in Christ and perhaps that will change the way you deal with that conflict.

Let’s take a minute and remember our baptism together. When we baptize, we make the sign of the cross on a person’s forehead. Look at the person next to you. If you’re sitting alone, you might need to shift a little bit to find a partner. Everyone have someone? Good.

Here’s what you’re going to say: [The Person’s Name], child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. I’ll repeat it: [The Person’s Name], child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. As you say it, trace a cross on the person’s forehead.

[When all have completed it:]

How do you feel? I hope you feel treasured and renewed. Baptism is incredible. It’s remarkable and life changing. It never goes away—it is a constant. We are irrevocably changed and connected to one another and to God. There is nothing we can do about it. We are named. We are claimed. We loved. We are God’s.

Amen.