Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Satan, Baptism, Death, Oh my: June 25, 2023

 Year A, Pentecost 4                             Romans 6:1-11                                                                                

            Normally we are not fortunate enough to have a reading coincide with baptismal themes.  For instance, if you were listening when I read the Gospel, you probably found that language about setting a man against his father and a daughter against her mother less than appealing for a baptism. I read that and thought, well that’s a horrible text for a baptism.  I mean, I could probably find some connections if I tried really hard, but it would have been a stretch. I was relieved when I saw that Romans actually talked about baptism because that meant I had a legitimate reason to choose Romans rather than the Gospel.  Then I read Romans carefully and I was sad again…because it’s a complicated reading.  It was a real roller coaster of emotions for me.   Our readings rotate on a three year cycle and coincide with whatever is going on in the church year. It’s called the lectionary.  It’s inconvenient at times to have such limited flexibility in terms of what we hear on Sunday.  At the same time, it means that our Bible reading is uncensored in some respects.  The preacher can’t just choose the safe readings.           

            I always like to go through the baptismal liturgy line by line when I meet with the parents and godparents of the child about to be baptized.  We have a saying in the Episcopal Church—that praying shapes believing.  In others words, what and how we pray shapes and in some ways shows what we believe.   If you read our whole baptismal liturgy, you will get a really wonderful overview of what we believe in the Episcopal Church. That said, there are a few places when it’s obvious to me that Iose the parents and godparents.  The first is when we talk about renouncing Satan. Obviously, no one is interested in approving of Satan, but people are confused as to why we are talking about Satan during a baptism when we don’t talk about it in any other worship service.  I will come back to that.

            The 2nd place in the liturgy where I see people squirm a little is in the section called “Thanksgiving over the water,” specifically when we talk about what the water symbolizes and the role water has played in critical moments in the Judeo-Christian story.  We say, “In it we are buried with Christ in his death.”  Now you see why I was so excited that we had this reading from Romans today.  #1—this is proof that the Book of Common Prayer is based on the Bible.  #2. We get to see that some of what we believe about baptism comes directly from the Apostle Paul.  In our reading from today, he wrote, “Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death…” I know what you are thinking, well now it all makes perfect sense. Obviously, this is why we talk about death when we are baptizing an adorable baby. No?  Not yet clear?  Well that’s ok, because that’s what I want to talk about. I am going to tell you why death in this context…is good news.

            For Paul, the death he was talking about was a figurative death.  It was and is dying to sin.  It’s the idea that sin no longer has control over us because Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice when he died for us.  When he died for us, he was wiping the slate clean for all God’s people.  This is a major tenant of our faith but one that I think a lot of modern Christians struggle with.  Why did Jesus have to die in order that we might live? I am not sure.  Tomes of theology books are written on the topic, but I am not yet convinced as to why it had to be that way.  What I know is that Jesus died because it was the only way for him to be the person God called him to be. His goodness, his divinity, offended the people in power. He wasn’t willing to back down.  He wasn’t willing to be someone else.  So they killed him.

            That sacrifice, that determination to be his authentic self, allowed Jesus to show his love to people who were hell bent on rejecting him.  It’s what separated him from the false messiahs, of which there were many.  It was a demonstration of such immense love, that it broke the chains that enslaved God’s people.  It allowed God’s people to be free from sin.  It’s what I talked about last week---it’s grace. It’s the free gift that we didn’t deserve or know we needed. 

            Does that mean that now we are all sin free?  Clearly not. We all know that we sin.  However, what makes us free is not that we never sin, but that sin doesn’t define us.  It’s part of who we are, but it’s not all of who we are.  One of the last things we do in the baptismal service is anoint the individual with oil and proclaim, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”  Baptism is about a new identity, it’s an identity where you can truly be yourself because you are created to be good and loving. You are created to love others and to love God and you can do that because you have gone through this figurative death.

            Now, Edie is young.  While she certainly has character and her own unique identity, no one would label her as a sinner in need of redemption.  At the same time, sin is inevitable and this baptism gives her freedom to always be defined not by her faults or sins, but by the grace that God has given her.  It’s the job of the parents, godparents, family and all the people in the church to remind her that her identity as a baptized child of God is steeped in goodness, and that is a goodness that can never be taken away.

Photo by Jon Tyson 
            So back to the devil thing.  Why do we renounce the devil in baptism? I think it’s to remind us that while we have been freed from sin, sin is still a relentless foe.  Evil is around us.  We can’t ignore it.  But we also can’t internalize it.  We can’t let it fester in our souls.  We must remember that evil is the enemy and it has to be renounced because our identity as children of God is goodness and light. Again, that doesn’t mean we are perfect. It means that we not defined by our imperfections.  We are defined—no---we are loved---by a God who refused to let the evil of this world change his identity. No matter what God’s people did, God’s reaction was to forgive and to love.  That was true when Jesus died and rose again.  It’s still true today.  God is a God of love and forgiveness and we who worship that God, we are people of love and forgiveness as well.    

Monday, June 19, 2023

Prisoner of Hope: June 18, 2023

 Year A, Pentecost 3                                        Romans 5:1-8                                                                       

Desmond Tutu was the Archbishop of Cape Town South Africa for over 30 years.  For even longer than that he led the fight against apartheid in South Africa.   Being black in South Africa during that time was a struggle— being black and on the frontlines of that struggle would have no doubt led to suffering and frustration.  He didn’t have an easy life.  Even after apartheid ended in 1994, he continued the hard work of truth telling by leading the Truth and Reconciliation Committee that worked to address the injustices committed during apartheid.  Archbishop Tutu never shied away from hard truths.  Yet I think what he is best known for is his joy, love, hope and his infectious laugh.  At the same time, he made sure to distinguish the hope that he practiced from the sunny optimism the world often associates with the word hope. He said, “I have never been an optimist. I am a prisoner of hope.”

            The Apostle Paul, the author of our 2nd reading, would not have called himself an optimist, but was definitely a proponent of hope.  In his letters, he mentioned hope over 50 times.  In today’s reading he says, “…but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us...”  One commentator described this as “chain reaction of grace” because it starts with the fact that we are standing in grace.  Grace is the free, undeserved gift that God has given all of us.  It’s the love that God gives us regardless of whether we deserve it or even want it. We have all been called to stand in grace.

            I have to say that I both love and hate these words of Paul.  I love the idea that suffering can create endurance which would then lead to character and inevitably hope.  I love the idea.  What I am not too fond of is the actual experience of suffering.  I don’t know anyone who is.  It kind of reminds me of that phrase “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”  I have never liked that phrase much either.  Because I have witnessed a lot of suffering that didn’t lead to strength or hope.  Sometimes suffering just leads to anger or depression. 

            It would be easy to say well the difference is that as Christians, we have faith and that enables us to transform our suffering into strength and hope.  Yet I have seen many Christians who can’t make it to the other side of suffering. And it’s not because they weren’t good Christians.  It’s not because they weren’t faithful enough.  Sometimes it’s because the suffering was too intense, too endless. There was no reprieve.  I don’t believe that Christians have some special sauce that enables us to have hope in the midst of pain.  I think our hope is different. 

            You see our hope isn’t based in some idyllic life that we have been promised.  It’s not based merely on what can be. It’s based on what Jesus did for us and what he continues to do for us.  Christian hope is born not in life, but in death, in the death of Jesus Christ.  Jesus suffered in both his life and death.  That suffering is what enabled Jesus to be resurrected and thus enables us all to have new life.  Our hope is different than the hope we might read about in greeting cards and chicken soup for the soul kind of messages. Our hope was forged out of darkness and death. [1] That is why darkness and death cannot defeat Christian hope...because darkness and death---they birthed hope.  That is what makes the hope we have in Jesus so incredibly powerful.

            But here’s the thing, this Christian hope isn’t easy.  Having it doesn’t even make our lives easier. In some ways, life becomes harder with hope.  Esau McCauley, a priest and writer, wrote, “Hope is a demanding emotion that insists on changing you.  Hope pulls you out of yourself and into the world, forcing you to believe more is possible.” [2]

            That’s what Archbishop Tutu meant when he said that he was a “prisoner of hope.” Once that hope took hold of him, he could not give up.  He could not despair.  Despair is a horrible feeling, it really is.  No one would want despair.  Yet while hope is demanding, “despair allows us to give up our resistance and rest.”[3]  That makes being in a state of despair easier because we can stop trying to make the world better….we can stop being aware of the pain and anguish that surrounds us.  We can just stop.  And I have to say, that can be tempting sometimes.  In a world that is broken and in desperate need of repair, it’s tempting to throw our hands up in the air and say, “Well, there is obviously nothing I can do about this, I might as well just stop trying…stop hoping.”

            We think that hope is something that should come to us naturally…but it’s not our natural state.  It’s something we have to work for.  That work can be exhausting.  You might be thinking, that doesn’t sound very good.  If that is what hope is, why would we want it? Why?  Because we Christians stand in grace.   That is God’s gift to us.  It’s our starting point.  And while hope is challenging, it’s also uplifting.  It brings joy.  It is life giving.  It gives us life and it gives those around us life.  Despair, it’s easier because we don’t have to do anything.  We don’t have to face the hard truths or our world. We don’t have to face how even our actions contribute to the despair of others.  But that is not why God put us on this earth.  We are not here to lean into despair.  We have not been given grace so we can squander it.  We, (the church) must be beacons of hope in this dark and lonely world.  We cannot give into the despair or the hate or the apathy. 

            Our Gospel reading says that Jesus saw the crowds and had compassion on them because they were harassed and helpless.   Then he told the disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into the harvest.” The harvest is the people who are living in despair, who can’t see out of their despair. Sometimes we are part of the harvest.  There are times, when we all might be in that place.  But there is also a lot of time when we are the laborers, when we are prisoners of hope who can’t possibly give up.  The harvest is plentiful.  Despair and darkness can indeed feel overwhelming.  But never forget that Christian hope was forged in darkness and death, which is what makes it indestructible and impenetrable.  Be a prisoner of hope.  Let hope captivate you.   Whatever is happening in our world, whatever suffering we might encounter, never forget Christianity was created because death was defeated. And that—that is a hope that never disappoints.  



[1] This idea comes from a commentary by Scott Hoezee and can be found here: https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2016-05-16/romans-51-5/

[2] https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/08/opinion/easter-jesus-judas-hope.html?searchResultPosition=2

[3] https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/08/opinion/easter-jesus-judas-hope.html?searchResultPosition=2