The several sections are supposed to evoke some of the symbolic meanings we attach to baptism as Presbyterians. When John Calvin wrote about the sacraments in The Institutes of the Christian Religion he described a metaphysical connection between a symbol and the reality to which it points. So in the spiritual realm and through the mysterious work of the Holy Spirit, the communion bread is connected with the reality of Jesus' body on the cross, the thing it symbolizes. So also, the wine is spiritually connected with Jesus' real blood. When a believer eats and drinks the communion elements, that one is participating in the reality of Jesus' crucifixion in the realm of the spirit. This has benefit of lifting believers to Jesus' presence, rather than dragging Jesus' body across time and space to be where the believers are. It also avoids the unpleasantness of actually eating anyone's flesh, even if it is Jesus'. Further, it spares Jesus the indignity of having his body consumed, digested, and ... shall we say "passed through the system" every time communion is celebrated. In the case of baptism, there are several symbolic meanings for the water, and by the Holy Spirit, the baptized participates in the realities to which they point.
Which brings us to the sermon, "End to End - Take 2." The "Take 2" is added because I used "End to End" for the sermon last week, thinking it would be this sermon, but it was something else. Here we go.
* * *
Birth
He was waiting. Still. He’d been waiting for a long, long time -- seemed like all his life! Maybe it was. He’d gotten used to the place, of course, although it felt like it was continually getting smaller the longer he was there. At first he thought of it practically as an infinite space, but now it seemed to be closing in around him.
Sometimes he wondered what would come next. Would this life just continue forever? It seemed unlikely, but he could hardly imagine anything beyond this. Could anything exist without the water, without the cord, without the steady thumping thing he heard all the time? He also heard things that seemed to come from outside, whatever that meant, but how could there be anything beyond the MomSpace continuum? And yet, as he got older and older, he felt like he would have to leave this life, and probably sooner than later. It was starting to feel like a compulsion, that he had to leave, that he MUST go.
Then one day it happened. With a determination he didn’t really understand, almost in partnership with the MomSpace, he put his head down and started to push. It was hard and it took a long time, but he pushed and pushed and pushed and….
aaaaaAAHAAAAAHHHH!! WOOAHH!! WOOOAHHH!! BRIGHT!!!! COLD!!!
CAN’T…. EPP… EPPPH…. WHHAAAAAAAHHH!!!
And like every human being, born of woman, he passed through the waters into a new life.
Baptism
What was taking so long? Why did she have to sit in this strange place? It was bad enough she had had to leave the MomSpace, but she had adjusted to the new place. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, being so big and bright and drafty, but the Faces took good care of her. But this place, this was a whole different thing. For one thing, it was full of Faces, everywhere she looked, all sitting in rows, and she didn’t recognize most of them. The light was different, too, and there was a lot more of it. Really, really bright lights and hangy-down lights on top part, and soft and colorful lights on the side parts. And the sounds! At one point all the Faces stood up and starting making sounds together. It was pretty and soothing, mostly, but that never happened at the other place.
And what was with this outfit? Usually the Faces put colorful, warm, comfortable cloth on her, but this was just all white and kind of scratchy. I mean, WHITE? Really? Don’t they know what will happen to that after lunch? she thought. And speaking of lunch, why were they off schedule? It must be that Face in the weird black dress. It just kept talking and talking. This was all so strange.
Then finally, something happened. Her Faces gathered her up and they all moved to where the talking Face was. Finally, some action, she thought. Hey, is that water? I like water, she said to herself. It reminded her of the MomSpace and of the times when the Faces put her in water and rubbed the dirt and gunky bits off her and…. What’s the talking Face doing with the ….
wwwaaaaaaAAAAAAHAHHHHH!!! THAT’S COLD AND WET!! WOAH!!
And like countless others souls, she passed through the waters of baptism into a life of faith.
Forgiveness
Oh, that had not been a good idea. Sure, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but … well, no, that wasn’t true. He had known it was a bad idea from the start, but he just wanted to try something that was bad for a change.
His room seemed unreasonably bright, even with his eyes closed. And loud. He had never noticed that his clock made so much noise. He rolled over and opened his…
wwwooooOOOOAHHHHHHH!!! Ow ow ow uugh. SHhhhhhh! Oh, my head!
How had this happened? He was one of the good kids, after all, wasn’t he? But he had always been, and frankly he was tired of being good. At least that’s what he thought. I mean, it’s hard when everyone else expects you to be perfect because you always have been or because they need you to be so they can brag about you or because… ugh.. he didn’t even know because why. But when their team had gone to the championship, and Butch had said he knew a guy that could help them celebrate in style, he thought that sounded pretty good. Didn’t he deserve it? He had worked so hard on the team to do his part in getting them to the top and had worked just as hard at his classes to keep his grades up. He deserved to have some time off from being good, he had told himself. So after he had taken a shower and told everyone he was going to bed, he snuck out and went to Butch’s. Everyone was there, including the guy who had brought the booze. Everyone was there, except Butch’s parents, of course. So they partied to celebrate being champions, being the best, being good.
And it was fun! At first, any way. Then things started getting a little crazy, and a little fuzzy. He started to remember some of what he had said, propelled by his big red solo cup. The more he remembered the more ashamed he was. Some of it was pretty rude and just down right mean. Then there was a point after which he didn’t remember much of anything. Just a flash or two of stumbling home…. throwing up in the neighbors’ bushes… Hail to the victor!
He sat up, reached for the water bottle on his night stand, took a sip, then poured a little on his hands and rubbed it on his face. “Oh my God!” He said it out loud, but he wasn’t being vulgar. It was the beginning of a prayer. He rolled over, on his knees, face down on the mattress, and started again to pray. How many people in his hungover state have repented because of the headache and queazy stomach, swearing off the drink forever. But that wasn’t his heart. He wasn’t just ashamed of getting drunk, but of being out of control and for saying such hurtful things to other people, about other people, people he cared about. He knew better. “Oh my God, this is not who I am. You have made me a child of God and taught me to love, to treat everyone else like a child of God. Please, Jesus, forgive me.”
And like countless penitent sinners, he was washed from his sin, as pure as snow.
Freedom
She turned on the radio, tuned to that New Agey station that played the nondescript kind of music that was supposed to calm your spirit, the kind you were supposed to meditate to or do yoga to or something. Not that she had time for anything like that, even if she knew how. Plus, she figured that meditating in traffic might not be a good idea. She just wanted something that would help her feel a little bit of peace on her commute.
How long had this been going on? It seemed like forever. Maybe it was. It had seemed like a great opportunity at first, full of possibilities for advancement and maybe for making a difference in people’s lives. And the pay sounded like more money than she could imagine. But that was a long time ago. Now she knew that advancement was for brown-nosers, yes-men, and unprincipled toadies who played the system. Making a difference was for chumps. It wasn’t quite the official policy of the company, but it might as well have been. As for the money, well, it was pretty good when you were just coming out of college, but now with a family, two kids, a mortgage, and all, well, that hadn’t really worked out the way she had expected, either.
The rain fell harder, and the traffic tightened up even more. The wipers beat, not quite in time to the trippy music and just out of sync with the throbbing in her head. She felt so trapped. She knew she should be thankful for what she had, and she knew there were real-life slaves out there, but she felt like she had gotten pretty close. A corporate slave, paid but not enough to escape the mounting debt, spending more and more time at the job to make ends meet. No different than all the other cogs in the machine, though, right?
She had asked for some time off, so she could spend some quality time with Tom and the girls. They were growing up so fast, and she felt like she was missing it. And when was the last time she and Tom had a night alone -- you know, really alone, just to be lovers again? So she asked for the time off, and her boss had denied it. “Can’t spare anyone right now, after the last round of layoffs, and all. We’ve all got step up… blah blah blah.” “You can’t expect a person to keep up this kind of pace!” she had said, almost breaking right there in front of him. “Person? You aren’t a person, you’re an executive!”
wwwooooOOOOAHHHH!! Wait, WHAT??
An SUV in the oncoming lane hit a puddle and the water splashed hard on her windshield, snapping her out of her unhappy revery. But something was changing in her. She was remembering some other old stories, too. Things she had learned in church about justice and fairness, about keeping the sabbath day holy, about folks who left their nets and followed Jesus, about the providence of God. She was remembering something about the questions of ultimate meaning in life, about identity, destiny, and purpose. She remembered that she didn’t owe her soul to the company store, because it already belonged God who had bought it with a huge price. And she wept hopeful tears.
And like the Hebrew children crossing the sea out of slavery, she passed into a new life of freedom.
Body of Christ
The alarm went off. Again. He groaned as he reached for the clock, slapping at the buttons. Then with more effort that it really deserved, he sat up to start his day.
aaaaaahhhhhUUUUHHHHHHHH!!! OOoooow.
All he had done was stretch. When did sleep start making him stiff and sore, for God’s sake? It wasn’t just that he had been working in the yard yesterday. He knew he’d pay for that, but it was like this most mornings any way, whether he pushed his body the day before or not. He was still surprised at how many things popped and creaked when he stood up, twisted a little, shuffled off to the bathroom. Shuffling? Crud, when did he start shuffling, for God’s sake? Probably when he got that gout in big toe. Whatever. All he knew was it was a lot more challenging just getting up than it used to be. Oh, sure, there had been tough mornings when he was young, but those were the morning-after-the-night-before. Now it just happened, even when he behaved himself. One thing would start hurting, and when he tried to compensate for that, something else would pinch. When he shifted for that, then another part would start yelling. He longed for the halcyon days of youth when his body seemed to work like magic.
Well, he wasn’t quite dead yet. He managed his morning routine and headed off for the church. It would be a busy day. He enjoyed the Sunday School lesson on Romans 12, especially the insights from all the other members of the class. Then after getting a cup of coffee, a quick meeting with the pastor to make sure everything was ready for the service and for the session meeting later that week. When the bell rang out the hour, he headed for his pew, the same one he had been occupying for decades. “I’ve got it shaped to fit my body,” he would tell people with a twinkle in his eye.
He loved it here, really. Oh, sure there were good days and bad days in the kingdom of God, as the preacher said, but on the whole he had always liked being in church. He liked the architecture. He liked the stained glass. He even liked the organ music AND the guitar music. But mostly he liked the people. As the prelude began, he began turning his attention to what God was going to do with them all there today. When it came to the first hymn, he stood and sang. He didn't think of himself as a good singer, but he was singing for God, and he figured God had made his voice and had heard worse. So he sang the best he knew how. He listened to the sermon. It was on a familiar passage, and there wasn't much about the sermon that was new to him, but he was always glad to hear about God's grace, forgiveness, and love, and that God was making all things new.
Then came time for his part. Just as the young family with the baby was making their way to the front, so did he, taking out the pages that had the liturgy and his lines. While the pastor read her parts about why they were all there, he looked around at who actually was there. Some of them were old, old friends. Some of them were just old! Some were new faces he didn't know very well. Some were the elders and deacons, mostly younger than he, but now leaders in the congregation, even though a few of them he had taught in Sunday School when they were little. He knew many of these people and pretty well. This one had had cancer and survived. That one had just lost her husband. That couple was expecting. That one had just quit her job to start doing social work. They all had stories, and most of them had pain, but here they were, all sitting together in this room, because God had invited them.
ooOOOOOOoohh, he said to himself. I get it! It's just like my body this morning. DIfferent parts have aches and pains, but when it comes down to it all the parts are stronger together than they are on their own. We aren't perfect by any means by ourselves, but because of this water, when we come here and do this, it is just what God has in mind to strengthen us all.
He suddenly became aware the pastor was looking at him! So was the couple. Oh, it was time for his line: "Madame Moderator, on behalf of the session, I present this child, whose parents have brought him to receive the sacrament of baptism." Then he watched as the pastor poured water into the font.
And like all disciples in every time and place, he knew he was part of the whole Body of Christ.
Death and Resurrection
She was waiting. Still. She’d been waiting for a long time now, although it just seemed like all her life! Maybe it was. She’d gotten used to the place, of course, although it felt like it was getting smaller the longer she was there.
She wondered what would come next. She knew this life couldn't just continue forever. She had heard the stories, of course, in scripture and in culture, but she could hardly imagine anything beyond this. Could anything exist without the body, without everything she had known and called "real" all her life? What is real? And what would it be like to pass from one reality into another? And yet, as she got older and weaker, she knew she would have to leave this life, and probably sooner than later. It was starting to feel like a compulsion, that she had to leave, that she MUST go. But she was unafraid. Baptized into the faith as a wee child and raised in the faith all through her life, she was ready one more time to take God's hand and follow into the undiscovered country.
Then one day it happened. Having said her goodbyes to the ones she loved most in this life, and almost in partnership with the universe, she closed her eyes one last time, and she breathed her last.
aaaaaAAHAAAAAHHHH!! WOW! WOW!!
And like every human being, and like all who are born from above of water and the Spirit, she passed from death to life eternal, and then, in the twinkling of an eye, beheld the Mystery of faith made sight.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, the One God who calls us into life. Amen.
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