The amazing chronicle of the Christmas tsunami is
continuing - the lead story on the news every night. Over
150,000 dead, 5-million homeless across twelve nations.
Shocking. Now survivors face serious health threats with
safe drinking water, sanitation and medicine at a premium in
many areas. In a rare positive note, the World Health
Organization reported yesterday that no major disease
outbreaks have occurred so far in the crowded camps where so
many have sought refuge. Still, the devastation of lives
and property has been just awful.
What has NOT been awful is the gratifying outpouring of
assistance from around the world. Presbyterian Disaster
Assistance has already sent $320,000 from One Great Hour of
Sharing funds to provide emergency relief -- food, potable
water, temporary shelter, blankets, and medicine. PDA's
goal is $2.5 million. Church World Service, the global
humanitarian arm of the National Council of Churches' 36
member communions, has dispatched $1 million in immediate
aid to the region, and has set a goal of $5 million to be
raised to support its recovery work in partnership with
councils of churches and other ecumenical agencies on the
scene in especially hard-hit areas. Former U.S. presidents
George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton are leading a nationwide
fund-raising campaign, channeling the donations through
established relief agencies.
Last Sunday, one of my colleagues reported that, on the
way out of church, one of the worshipers handed him a check
with the "pay to the order of" line blank and asked him to
fill in the appropriate destination. It was for $10,000.
Good sermon. Sally Hayes saw the leaflet in last week's
bulletin about ways to help, noticed the need for personal
sanitation supplies, and now has her fifth-graders at Beatty
making Health Kits. Others of you are doing similar things.
Good.
Who could have imagined that WATER could be so
powerful? Well, truth be told, that is a trick question
because the Christian Church has always known it. This
second Sunday of January every year is the day we remember
the Baptism of the Lord. The scene down by the river. A
throng of people from all walks of life are there. They
have made a mini-pilgrimage into the countryside, come to
see an itinerant preacher who is more than passing strange:
a coarse camel's hair tunic with a leather belt around his
waist, the uniform of a prophet since the days of Elijah.(1)
They had come because there was a sense that something was
missing in their walk with God, so they were ready to listen
to a new voice. And this was a powerful voice.
Then one day it happened...Jesus. The request for
baptism. John's initial reluctance, then acquiescence.
Finally, the dramatic climax. As our lesson has it, "As
soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At
that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God
descending like a dove and lighting on him. And a voice
from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I
am well pleased."
THIS CHANGED EVERYTHING! Jesus' baptism ushered in a
new baptism. Christian baptism became not just a washing
away of sin, as John's baptism was, but the baptism that
brings the power of the Holy Spirit and a special
relationship with God.(2) Why? For no reason other than God
chooses to do it.
Part of the message of Jesus' baptism and our own is
that we are loved. Most folks understand that, and that is
why they get all warm and fuzzy when it comes to presenting
their little ones for the sacrament. But there is more: WE
HAVE WORK TO DO. Remember, this happened at the START of
Jesus' work. This was his commissioning service. Now,
almost 20 centuries later, when someone is baptized in the
church, whether infants or adults, it is no different. We
still have work. We are receiving our commission.
If that scares you a bit, there is one more piece of
good news I have for you about your baptism. Remember that
picture at the Jordan - there is the crowd, John,
Jesus...and the dove. The Holy Spirit. Do not forget the
dove. Clearly, scripture wants us to understand that from this
moment on, Jesus and his ministry are EMPOWERED by the
living presence of the Holy Spirit.
If you were here on Christmas Eve, you witnessed the
baptism of young Mitchell Hallgren. Mitch is not as young
as many of the children I baptize - he is almost ten years
old. At the conclusion of the ceremony, I told him that
this would be a day he would always remember, and that he
and his pastor would have one special memory in common
because it was on Christmas Eve 60 years ago that I was
baptized. My emotions welled up as I told him that and the
words almost choked on the way out, something that happens
to me regularly when I perform a baptism. Not because of
some warm-fuzzy-isn't-this-a-nice-family picture kind of
feeling, but because this is when the church gets dangerous.
This sets someone on a journey that has the potential to
change the world. And maybe because it is so dangerous, so
threatening, so radical, that people either flee the church
as they get older, or they weep when we have the opportunity
to reaffirm our baptismal vows.
Yes, there IS something powerful in baptism. The story
is told of a pastor's words to a baby shortly after he had
baptized her. No doubt, the minister was speaking as much
to the congregation as to the infant. "Little sister, by
this act of baptism, we welcome you to a journey that will
take your whole life. This isn't the end. It's the
beginning of God's experiment with your life. What God will
make of you, we know not. Where God will take you, surprise
you, we cannot say. This we do know and this we say -- God
is with you."(3)
Our friend Fred Craddock tells of a little community in southwest Oklahoma where the Native American Black Kettle
and most of the women and children of his little tribe were
massacred by General Custer as he and his troops swept down
in the early morning hours. The community is named for the
general, Custer City. Fred ministered there for about three
years. The population was around 450. There were four
churches: a Methodist church, a Baptist church, a Nazarene church, and a Christian church. Each had its share of the
population on Wednesday night, Sunday morning, and Sunday
evening. Each had a small collection of young people, and
the attendance rose and fell according to the weather and
whether it was time to harvest the wheat and all of that.
But the most consistent attendance in town was at the
little cafe where all the pickup trucks were parked, and all
the men were inside discussing the weather, and the cattle,
and the wheat bugs, and the hail, and the wind, and are we
going to have a crop. All their wives and sons and
daughters were in one of those four churches. The churches
had good attendance and poor attendance, but the cafe had
consistently good attendance, better attendance than some of
the churches. They were always there. Once in a while they
would lose a member there at the cafe, because their wives
finally got to them or their kids, and you'd see them go
sheepishly off to one of the churches. But the men at the
cafe still felt strong. "We are still the best, biggest,
and strongest group in town." And so they met on Wednesdays
and Sundays and every other day, discussing weather and
crops - not bad men, but good men, family men, hardworking
men.
The patron saint of the group that met at the cafe was
named Frank. Frank was seventy-seven when Fred first met
him. He was a good, strong man; a pioneer, a rancher and
farmer, and a prospering cattle man too. He was born in a
sad house; he had his credentials, and all the men there at
the cafe considered him their patron saint. "Ha! Ol' Frank
will never go to church." Fred met Frank on the street one
time. He says, "[Frank] knew I was a preacher, but it has
never been my custom to accost people in the name of Jesus,
so I just was shaking hands and visiting with him, but he
took the offensive. He was not offensive, but he took the
offensive. He said, 'I work hard, I take care of my family,
and I mind my own business. Far as I'm concerned,
everything else is fluff.' You see what he told me? 'Leave
me alone, I'm not a prospect.' I didn't bother Frank.
"That's why I, the entire church, and the whole town
were surprised, and the men at the cafe church were
absolutely bumfuzzled when old Frank, seventy-seven years
old, presented himself before me one Sunday morning for
baptism. I baptized Frank. Some of the talk in the
community was, 'Frank must be sick. Guess he's scared to
meet his maker. They say he's got heart trouble. Going up
there and being baptized, well, I never thought Ol' Frank
would do that, but I guess when you get scared…' All kinds
of stories.
But this is the way that Frank told it to the preacher.
They were talking the next day after his baptism, and Fred
said, "Uh, Frank, you remember that little saying you used
to give me so much: 'I work hard, I take care of my family,
and I mind my own business'?"
He said, "Yeah, I remember. I said that a lot."
Fred asked, "You still say that?"
He said, "Yeah."
Fred said, "Then what's the difference?"
Frank responded, "I didn't know then what my business
was." He discovered what his business was - to serve human
need.
And so Fred baptized Frank. He raised his hand and
said, "In the presence of those who gather, upon your
confession of faith in Jesus Christ, and in obedience to his
command, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son,
the Holy Spirit. Amen."(4)
When church gets dangerous. In a moment, you will
reaffirm your baptism, the beginning of God's experiment
with your life. What God will make of you, we do not know.
God is not done with you yet. As has been said, life should
NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving
safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather
to skid in sideways, book of memories in one hand, Bible in
the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and
shouting "Hallelujah! What a Ride!" Where God will take
you, surprise you, we cannot say. This we do know and this
we preach -- God is with you, now and always.
Amen!
1. 2 Kings 1:8
2. Brian Stoffregen, via Ecunet, "Gospel Notes for Next Sunday," #2764, 1/5/97
3. William H. Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas, Resident Aliens, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989), pp. 52-53
4. Mike Graves & Richard Ward, eds., Craddock Stories, (St. Louis : Chalice Press, 2001), pp. 67-69
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