The weather came in, and so we dug ourselves into church, and dug ourselves back out. 13 hardy souls managed to get through the snow for worship this morning. For those who couldn't make it, sermon and a little something extra of what we were doing in church today.
1st READING: Ps 29
2nd READING: Isaiah 43:1-7
3rd READING: Luke 3:15-17,21-22
SERMON
‘Called by name’
Let’s pray:
may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight,
O Lord our strength and redeemer. Amen...
That’s it: all gone.
Done and dusted for another year -
well, actually, less than a year:
because, as those of you who were gifted with
new calendars and diaries will know,
there’s only 349 days left until Christmas.
It’ll come ‘round quickly enough.
But, for the most part,
the tinsel and twinkly lights,
the baubles, and assorted other tree decorations
have been packed away:
the tree, back in it’s box -
or, in the process of being
recycled and chopped up for kindling.
The hope and expectation of Advent
has been realised.
The child has been born,
angels have visited shepherds,
shepherds have visited the stable;
wise men have followed a star to the manger,
given their presents,
and headed home by another way.
Time to move on and get those boxes
back in the loft.
[or wherever you store them!]
Time moves very swiftly in the church year -
no hanging about loitering in Bethlehem for us:
as we heard in our readings earlier,
within the passing of a week,
the babe in the manger
has become a grown man of 30,
standing on the banks of the River Jordan
watching his cousin John baptising the crowds
who have been drawn by his message of repentance.
Repentance: refocusing, reorienting and re-turning
to follow the One who, in love, made us and calls us for his own.
But perhaps it’s not quite time to put all the
boxes away - for in our gospel reading there’s a sense of Advent déjà vu.
A sense of expectation and wondering is in the air,
and it centres around the identity of John:
just who exactly is he?
Could it be...?
Could he be the Christ -
the Anointed One -
the Messiah?
His appearance, his dress, his words, and his actions
are very much prophetic:
he’s calling the people to turn back to God.
But John knows exactly who he is -
he’s the messenger
for the Messiah,
and he is quick to dispel any speculation
about his own greatness.
‘One more powerful’ is coming, ‘one more worthy’ -
and we heard possibly John’s most well-known line:
about his not being worthy enough to even untie the Messiah’s sandals.
He is John, the straightener of paths,
preparing the way:
he is not
the way.
And having answered them, I suspect the crowd then want to ask:
‘Well, if
you’re not the Messiah, then who is?’
The question of the Messiah’s identity is answered by the writer
of the gospel in an odd manner;
for the One who is the way, the truth, the life - the Messiah -
does something rather unusual.
This One, who John claims is more powerful, and more worthy than he is
quietly heads off to queue alongside those who have
come to submit to a baptism of repentance -
an act of refocusing, reorienting, re-turning their faces to God.
The Son of God,
Prince of Peace,
Wonderful, counsellor, Messiah...
doesn’t stand on ceremony,
doesn’t jump the queue
doesn’t demand first place:
he takes his turn, and stands in line
amidst those who are searching,
amidst those who feel a lack -
the sense of something - someone - missing from their lives;
amidst those who feel broken, and bereft;
those who seek comfort;
those who seek meaning;
those who somehow understand that there is more to life than
waking, working, eating, sleeping.
He is amidst and alongside:
PCUSA pastor, Bob Brearley, notes that:
‘all we know about the baptism of Jesus is that it was with “all the people”
... Jesus presented himself for baptism as an act of solidarity with a nation
and a world of sinners. Jesus simply got on line with
everyone who had been broken by the “wear and tear” of this
selfish world and had all but given up on themselves and their God.
When the line of downtrodden and sin-sick people formed in
hopes of new beginnings through a return to God,
Jesus joined them.
At his baptism, he identified with the damaged and broken people
who needed God.’
[Robert Brearley in FOTW,YrC, Vol.1]
The incarnation, beyond the birth,
shows itself through Jesus’ identifying with people -
he is flesh of our flesh,
bone of our bone:
with us,
as one of us,
demonstrating his power by choosing not to oppress,
not to lord it over us.
‘Who is this?’ the crowd at the river may ask.
He’s the Messiah, but by seeking baptism,
by walking in humility alongside them,
he’s the Messiah - but not as they've understood
what a Messiah
should be.
Is it then, a case of mistaken identity?
The theme of identity is writ large in this recounting of Jesus’ baptism.
Is John the Messiah?
No.
Is Jesus the Messiah?
Well, yes, but not quite what they were expecting.
But then, confirmation of his identity from a much higher source -
comes through the waters of baptism.
Jesus emerges from the water and,
in a small added detail that the account in Matthew doesn’t have,
he prays:
turns his focus upon God,
identifies with God -
recognising that he doesn't walk on the journey of faith in his own strength;
he doesn't make this journey alone:
God - Father and Spirit - are right there with him...
In this sense, perhaps, he views his baptism as a defining marker:
having lived a private life, his baptism serves as an act of commitment -
a signal that the moment had come to begin his ministry:
he consciously turns from his old life going about his carpentering in the workshop,
to his new life on the journey with God -
and on his journey towards Jerusalem,
that city which doesn’t honour its prophets.
God confirms this act of baptism with his blessing:
as Jesus prays that the heavens open,
the Spirit, like a dove, descends,
and a voice from heaven is heard, saying:
‘You...are my Son,
whom I love;
with you I am well pleased.’
It’s a great divine affirmation.
Having witnessed to his humanity through showing his relationship with people
through standing in solidarity with them
by standing in line and by being baptised with them -
we see Jesus reveal his divinity,
through showing his relationship with God through prayer.
His baptism is one of identity and belonging:
Son of Man
Son of God.
But baptism
is essentially about identity and belonging.
As followers in faith here and now,
baptism is about who we
are and
whose we are.
Baptism is a sign of reconciliation and relationship:
a way of showing that our face is turned
towards God, not away from God;
a way of showing that relationship with God is also about relationship with others:
the people of God.
We are baptised into Christ:
joined to God,
and joined to one another;
standing for God
and for each other.
Baptism is a sign of what God has done,
is doing, and will do in our lives - both now and for all time
We are baptised into life - not death;
baptised into freedom - not slavery;
baptised into community -
being baptised is not just about ‘me and my God’
We are all of us God’s children -
members of God’s family;
brothers and sisters in Christ.
Who
are we?
I love the words in our reading from Isaiah today:
we are -
created and formed by God;
we are redeemed;
we are known - for God calls us by name;
we are God’s;
we are precious in God’s sight - and because of that,
not worthless, but worthy of honour;
we are loved.
We are God’s people and he is with us.
‘Our core identity lies not in our roles as individuals,
or in our relative size and wealth as [a congregation],
but in God’s identification of us as
“precious in my sight, and honoured.”
Our sense of belonging comes not from the acceptance of our peers
or the status of our communities but from the One who
claims us and will never let us go.’
[W. Carter Lester in FOTW]
Baptism marks us as God’s people.
We turn our face towards God -
and there are days when we relax in God’s love,
and days when we resist God’s love;
days when we catch fleeting glimpses of
what God’s kingdom of heaven could be like on earth;
and days when it feels more like hell on earth.
We skip, and we stumble,
and we sometimes stop beside still waters to rest...
Baptism marks us as a people on a journey.
We wonder at the incarnation - of God walking for a time as one of us.
We ponder on the challenge that Jesus, the Messiah, calls us to -
which is to share, in word and in deed,
the good news that God is with us,
and to live life fully, abundantly.
In faith, we recognise the presence of the One
whose desire is to love us,
and who seeks to be loved in return.
Whether babe in the manger
or baptised man,
the good news of Jesus can’t be contained:
we may have packed away the physical signs and tokens of Christmas -
the tree may be gone, but the message remains:
as God is for us,
as God became one of us -
so we are for God,
so we become his hands, his feet,
seeing with his eyes of compassion
as we look around our world.
The great civil rights preacher, Howard Thurman, wrote:
"When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among people,
To make music in the heart."
We are called by name - and are God’s own.
As we live into our baptism,
as we live into our identity as God’s precious ones,
so we continue to bring the light and hope of the Messiah
into our hearts,
our homes,
our world.
And perhaps, at the deepest of levels, the reality of Christmas
is born in us each time we do.
Amen.
[immediately following the sermon, we took some time to remember and reflect
on our baptism. Every had been given a stone as they came into worship.
At the front of the church, the font had a large glass jar with water in it.
The following is basically what we did...]
REMEMBERING OUR BAPTISM
There’s an old tradition in some communities of the baptised,
that happens either on New Year’s Eve,
or early in the new year - often on the Sunday focusing upon Jesus’ baptism.
It’s a time for remembering and reflecting upon our baptism:
hard to remember for those of us who may have been babes in arms -
but each time we have a baptism in church, in a way,
we’re reminded of the vows made on our behalf.
And so, today, on this second Sunday of the new year,
and the Sunday upon which we've been thinking about Jesus’ baptism,
let’s take a quiet moment now to think upon our own identity
as God’s beloved ones...
as someone who is precious in his sight -
[silence space for reflection]
Sometimes, it’s hard to accept that affirmation
of God's love, but here and now, remember:
you are God’s son,
you are God’s daughter:
with you,
he is well pleased.
As you came in this morning, each of you were given a stone.
As you can see, placed on our baptismal font is a large container of water...
and by the side, a candle, symbolising the light that has come into
the world through Jesus.
Over the next wee while, having been thinking of your baptism,
and of who you are and whose you are,
I’d invite you to come forward and place the stone into the water
as a reminder of your baptism...
and as the stones are gathered together,
let them remind us also that in baptism we are bound together -
as Christ’s body, and as brothers and sisters...
[people brought their stones and placed them in the water...
followed by a time of quiet reflection. Thereafter, we said the following
prayer together...]
I am no longer my own but yours.
Put me to what you will,
rank me with whom you will.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for you or laid aside for you,
exalted for you or brought low for you.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal. Amen
.
Sunday 31 Jan - and another welcome return: this time Uniting Church of Australia minister, the Rev Sarah Agnew.
Our Lent discussion groups will once again combine faith and film.
