Letting Our Light Shine

January 13, 2008 First Sunday After Epiphany The Baptism of Christ Sermon: Letting Our Light Shine Texts: Isaiah 42: 1-9, Matthew 3: 13-17 A few years ago, I read a story of a pastor from an urban area taking her 11 year old son on a trip into the Grand Canyon. It is a grand story, an Epiphany story, a story that helps us prepare our hearts for the significance of Jesus' baptism and his invitation for discipleship. First Pastor Heidi (Transfiguration Lutheran Church, New York) talked about the documents she had to sign before they could even begin the descent into the Grand Canyon with her 20 year old mule, Blackjack At the orientation, warnings were repeated that were in the documents. "If you are afraid of heights, have recently had open heart surgery or are prone to whining-get out now and get your money back. If you are not willing to hit the thick-skinned mule with your crop in order to keep him within a yard of the next mule-get out now and get your money back. "If you are not willing to drink your water on command and get hosed down halfway through to prevent heat exhaustion and dehydration-get out now and get your money back. If the switchback turns, where you will find yourself hanging over a 6,000-foot drop, will make you dizzy or upset-get out now and get your money back." (Christian Century 12-12-01, p4 The mule ride that Pastor Heidi took gave her opportunity to speak about what it was like to ride a mule down into the Canyon. She was, of course, thinking of Mary riding to Bethlehem when she wrote her article. But, as I read it again, and pondered its meaning, I felt drawn to the parallels of the journey we begin with baptism in the Christian life. Do you think we really understand what is involved when we say "yes" to baptism and begin the journey of the Christian life? Do we understand the depth of our commitment when we are confirmed and become adult members of the church? Matthew's account of Jesus' baptism leads us to recognize the importance of the event of baptism in the life Jesus. When Jesus came to John at the Jordan it was not a spur of the moment impulse; he came in order to be baptized. It was his intention; it was planned; it was public. It was thought through because Jesus embraced the righteousness of God and believed it was God's purpose for all people. I believe that Jesus remembered the words of Isaiah and took seriously the scriptural role for Israel, the chosen people. The text said they were to be a light to the nations and the means through which God will redeem the world. For Jesus, being baptized was an act of faithfulness to the vision God had given through God's people. He took the words and promise of God to lead and do something new in his life seriously. It is our belief in the Christian tradition that baptism with water is a sign and symbol of God's grace and is a call to us to find an identity as God's beloved children. The moment of the naming in baptism, whether as an infant or an adult, is a holy moment. The moment is holy because we have made a commitment to be faithful to the will of God and act accordingly. This holy moment reminds us that, in a sense, none of us has a name, an identity until the church tells us who we are. In baptism, the church says, "you are someone to whom a name has been given-you belong to Christ." You are called to a higher righteousness, to God's goodness, to God's justice and to God's mercy and compassion. Sometimes I wonder if the Christian life is like Pastor Heidi's experience of riding the mule into the Grand Canyon. Do we wish we had stopped and studied the admonitions a little closer before embarking on this difficult, treacherous journey with numerous risks? We have high expectations for those who carry the name "Christian," don't we? This conversation makes me remember stories of those expectations. One of the stories is the account of the clergyman who reported, just after September 11, of a New Yorker who noticed his clerical collar and stopped and asked him on the street these questions, "Where is God in the death and devastation that struck on 9-11? Where is the church in these events?" Or, I remember visiting in a nursing home back in the Boston area a few years ago and being approached by an estranged church member who demanded an answer as to why God would punish the patients who were suffering from numerous physical and psychological conditions. "Where is God, where is the church in this suffering?" she asked. When these tough questions come to us, do we flee from the questions and join those who have lost sight of the mission of the church? Do we stand firm and try to respond the best we are able with the little "lights" we carry? I hope we are able to say that the church is where it has always been, witnessing to Jesus' message that God is love, feeding the hungry, giving sanctuary to the weary, tending to the sick, and comforting those who mourn. As those who have said "yes" to the journey to walk the Christian life, we say, as tough as this journey is through life, we witness to a crucified God who suffers with us all to the very end of our darkest, most desperate moments. The old spiritual says it all: "You Can't be a Beacon if Your Life Don't Shine." Christianity, perhaps more than any other religion, depends on the testimony of the people. Ours is a faith that relies on witnesses to tell speak the feelings deep in the heart that have arisen from the passion of the Spirit. For Martin Luther King, for Rosa Parks, for all those we can name today who have led the way for our communities to be transformed by the power of the non-violent gospel, it was about feeling God in the heart and knowing it's passion in life. We remember those who were active in the civil rights movement around this time of celebrating the birth of Martin Luther King because many took a treacherous journey. It is good to recall Dr. King's life and stories he told in his own words to give us an account of the risks. Out of school and pastoring the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, Martin Luther King, Jr., we learn that he was given a "crash course" in following the radical Jesus. It was a tired, 42 year old African-American seamstress named Rosa Parks who refused to give up her seat on the bus that hurled him right into the middle of what became the Montgomery bus boycott. The boycott had been in progress for more than a year and King, chosen to be its leader and principal spokesperson, was fearful, tired and frustrated. He knew he was called, he felt right about where he was and what he was doing but, oh, how his faith was being tried. One night while trying to sleep he received a telephone call which threatened his life and the lives of his family. Not wanting to wake or alarm his wife, Dr. King went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, thinking it would calm his nerves. When the coffee didn't ease the overwhelming feeling of helplessness, King fell down on his knees and prayed, "Lord, I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and.....I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I've come to the point where I can't face it alone." (Strength to Love, pg 113) It was at that moment of loneliness, despair and hopelessness that Martin felt a response come back. He said he heard a voice on the inside say, "Martin, stand up for righteousness, stand up for truth. God will be at your side forever." (ibid.) We are called to be counted among the righteous who will not shy away from the mandate to do justice and to discuss the nature of justice. We are not to fear dialogue on important issues around homosexuality, stem cell research, or peaceful resolutions to difficult conflict in international affairs. And while on this treacherous, risky journey of Christian discipleship, we are to remember the promise of the guide. Jesus speaks to us, "I know this path. I have gone before you. Just listen to me. You'll make it." It's the words of the Psalmist (46), "God is our shelter and our strength, ever ready to help in time of trouble." (Jerusalem Bible) When Pastor Heidi concluded her Grand Canyon journey, she gave us these words of hope: "Midway on the journey we came to a plateau. Spring flowers studded the desert plain spread before us. There were yellow starbursts inside white primroses, magenta blooms of beavertail cactus, pale orange petals on the mariposa lilies fluttering in the wind, and ruddy stalks of Indian paintbrush---each one magnifying the Lord and echoing around the canyon walls." Our journey as disciples of Christ will take us to the desert plateau's that will help us remember that God's hope is in the lives we lead and the ways we carry the Christ light into the world. May our lives magnify the Lord, may they echo words of hope and light around the canyon walls. Amen.