Sermon January 8, 2012 - Baptism of Our Lord
Sermon for Baptism of Our Lord
January 8, 2012
Michael Coffey
Mark 1:4-11
The beginning.
That’s what Mark said.
This
is the beginning.
The
verse that begins Mark’s Gospel,
just before what we heard in the
Gospel reading, says:
The
beginning of the good news of Jesus.
And
what is that beginning?
Jesus’
baptism.
It
is all about that beginning, and it is a good beginning.
Everyone’s story needs a good
beginning,
your
story and mine.
Our
stories need a good beginning
because
we want to live life fully and fearlessly and faithfully.
And
the beginning sets the tone and direction
for
the rest of the story.
The only problem is,
we
don’t control much of our beginnings,
and
they are not always good.
And
we are often living with the impact and power and pain
of
a flawed or diminishing beginning.
It’s a curious thing that Mark tells
us nothing about Jesus’ life
before
his baptism.
Nothing about his birth, or his
childhood,
or
his religious formation,
or
his daily work.
It’s as if nothing that comes before
Jesus’ baptism matters,
nothing
that comes before this beginning,
which
isn’t the beginning of Jesus’ life story,
but it seems to be the beginning that
really matters.
Baptism is a rich and sacred ritual
that
has been a part of the church since the beginning.
It is a sacrament of initiation,
a
sacrament of beginning.
Initiation is a practice that occurs
throughout cultures,
ancient
and contemporary.
And initiation is always about
getting the beginning right.
Since
initiation usually happens around adolescence,
it
is about getting the beginning of the mature, adult life right.
And you want to get it right at the
beginning
so
that the rest of life flows from that good start.
But too often, too many of us are
living life apart from that blessed start.
Somehow
along the way
it
faded into a distant memory and we stopped trusting
whatever
good beginning we had.
Sadly, too many people make it all
the way to the end
without
ever getting the beginning right.
Too many of us die with too many
regrets,
die
with the sense that we missed something,
we
didn’t do it right,
we
lost track of what matters.
A woman who worked for years in
palliate care for the dying
wrote
a blog and then a book about the experience.
Bonnie Ware is the author of the book
“The Top 5 Regrets of the Dying.”
It
is a reminder of what really matters to us in life,
what
we come to realize often too late,
what
we wish we knew or trusted from the beginning,
what
appears with utter clarity at one’s death bed.
After listening for years to patients
who died with deep regret,
she
came up with this list of the top regrets:
1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life
others expected of me.
This was the top
regret. Too many people living the life
they think others want them to live, instead of their own, God-given life.
2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
She said this was particularly true
of men.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends
5. I wish I had let myself be happier
What if there were a start to this
journey
that
made the decisions and choices and confusing options
coming
into more clarity and light?
What if there were a beginning
that
helped us get the rest of life right?
In Jesus’ story as Mark tells it,
Jesus’ baptism is that
beginning.
It
is a powerful, necessary word from God spoken to his wet ears:
You are mine. I love you.
You are pleasing to me.
The text says that the heavens were
torn open
and
the Spirit descended upon him.
This is beginning language,
creation
language, renewal language.
The heavens are not torn open very
often in Scripture,
and
when they are, God comes in to make a new start.
Jesus’ baptism, then,
is
a central and clarifying event in Jesus’ own life
as
he begins a life of risky love for the sake of God’s kingdom on earth.
It is also a sign of our own lives
lived in God
and
how we get our true start.
It is startling and perhaps
embarrassing language.
It
might seem to play into our egos too much
and
sound narcissistic, and it could be.
But everything we do in baptism in
the church
tells
us that when we are baptized
the
heavens are torn open once again,
and
the Spirit descends to bless and renew and empower,
and
the voice from heaven speaks:
You are mine. I love you.
You are pleasing to me.
That
is the beginning that gives our lives direction and purpose.
I suppose it would be nice to stay
there
and
keep hearing that voice
and
feel warm and wrapped up in a blanket of love life an infant.
But just like Jesus,
this
is not the end, but the beginning.
And if we get this beginning right,
the
rest of life flows out from it,
the
life of mature adulthood lived in God
as
beloved sons and daughters.
And the right beginning is this
voice, this epiphany, this theophany:
You are mine. I love you. You are pleasing
to me.
In the early church
the
baptism of Jesus was one of the most important festivals celebrated.
Even before Christmas became part of
the liturgical calendar,
the baptism of Jesus was as
a part of the church calendar of holy days.
In the Orthodox churches,
it
is the chief meaning and understanding of the celebration of Epiphany,
which
they also call Theophany: God made
manifest.
The divine voice speaking to Jesus.
The loving Father embracing the son.
The authorization and empowerment
to live the life God gave Jesus to
live.
The reason the Orthodox make such a
big deal out of this day,
besides
its revealing power to us about who Jesus is,
is
its revealing power to us
about who we are as those baptized
into Christ.
It is the day that reminds us about
our true beginning,
our
powerful start in this life:
Baptized
into God’s belovedness
with,
and by the grace of, Jesus’ own baptism.
The
divine voice speaking to us.
The
loving embrace.
The
authorization and empowerment
to
live the life God gave us to live,
not
the life we live because of what others tell us,
not
the life of fearfully hiding our true selves,
but
the life, the one true life we have to live.
Now, in case you think I’m some kind
of romantic idealist
about
church or sacraments or life:
we
all know that just because we got the beginning,
doesn’t
mean we live without mistakes and regret.
It
doesn’t mean everything flows easily and rightly afterwards.
We know that this life gets messier
than we can handle,
and
we believe our fears and doubts
more than we believe our belovedness
in God.
But here’s the thing about God, and
baptism, and Jesus:
The
beginning doesn’t come at the beginning.
The
beginning comes whenever we reach an end.
The
beginning is given to us every day in Christ
as
the new creation, the re-creation, of our lives
reformed and remade in God’s love.
Baptism marks the true beginning of a
life lived in God by grace, yes.
But
it isn’t a clear-cut path from there
through
a sunlight dappled forest with birds chirping sweetly.
It is too often a dark, difficult,
despairing journey
where
we keep living out of our old fears and failures
instead
of our new beginning.
This is why we keep getting wet in
church.
This
is why we keep sprinkling and remembering
and
giving thanks and telling the story.
The beginning that God provides
is
grace to start each day anew,
to
wake up and make this the day we get the beginning right,
to
walk out into the world wearing our belovedness
because
we have drowned our fear and failure in the river.
This daily beginning is God’s gift to
us
as
much as the rising of the sun is God’s gift to us
to
enlighten our way.
There’s a song by the rock group U2
that captures this wonderfully,
although
I can’t replicate the power cords, and shimmering guitar
and
gutsy vocals.
But here’s what they sing in the
chorus of the song Breathe:
Every day I die again, and again I’m reborn
Every day I have to find the courage
To walk out into the street with arms out
Got a love you can’t defeat
Neither down or out
There’s nothing you have that I need
I can breathe
Breathe now
Every day I have to find the courage
To walk out into the street with arms out
Got a love you can’t defeat
Neither down or out
There’s nothing you have that I need
I can breathe
Breathe now
And then in the rapturous ending:
We are people borne of sound
The songs are in our eyes
Gonna wear them like a crown
Walk out, into the sunburst street
Sing your heart out, sing my heart out
I’ve found grace inside a sound
I found grace, it’s all that I found
And I can breathe
Breathe now
The songs are in our eyes
Gonna wear them like a crown
Walk out, into the sunburst street
Sing your heart out, sing my heart out
I’ve found grace inside a sound
I found grace, it’s all that I found
And I can breathe
Breathe now
The voice from heaven speaks to us
anew:
You are mine. I love you.
You are pleasing to me.
The
Spirit, the breath of God, descends upon us again
because
of the life of Jesus.
This
Spirit-breath is in you so you can breathe in and out every day
the
endless grace of God
and
walk out into the street with arms wide open
embracing
and living the life God gave you alone to live.
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