You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Arguably the most important gift of baptism is never articulated in the ritual itself: being told we are loved beyond measure by the God who made us and sustains our life. It is implicit in the rite as well as in the whole Gospel story. “For God so loved the world….” begins one of the best-known summaries of the Good News. But it’s not explicit in the liturgical language.
It was when Jesus was baptized: Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Why can’t that voice ring more loudly for us? Our awareness of being beloved is so easily drowned out by the criticisms of others, the judgments of the world, and our own harsh self-appraisals. I wonder if Jesus was able to recall that deep affirmation in the moments when he was most under attack or stress. I hope he was.
How can we better remember, proclaim and live out of our belovedness? One way is to remind ourselves in prayer every morning, when all possibilities are new: You are beloved. And again at the end of the day, when we can be tempted to regret things we’ve done or left undone: Can we park those regrets at the door marked “Beloved: Please Come In?” (Casting Crowns has a good song about that...)
Of course, we generally understand belovedness most fully when we experience it from other people. Maybe we can make a practice of letting others feel beloved, whether or not they return the favor. I’m reminded of the promise in the marriage vows, to “love, honor and cherish.” That word “cherish” seems to me to be the most neglected in many marriages, and even friendships. The word is rooted in the Latin carus, from which we also get charity and love.
We are more than loved by God, my friends. We are cherished. We are delighted in. We are pleasing in God's sight. God sees us even now, through Christ, as we will fully be, and so God is already as delighted with us as can possibly be. We don’t have to do one more thing. Except receive God’s love, take it in, let it grow in us, and accept that we are cherished.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label baptism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baptism. Show all posts
1-9-25 - Empowered
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When John the Baptizer was asked if he was the Messiah, or Elijah returned, he demurred: “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
Baptism in water is only the visible part of the gift. It is our unseen baptism in the Holy Spirit that changes everything. Too often churches neglect this greatest of all gifts, so dazzled by the play of water we don’t notice the fire at work. But fire is promised, and the Spirit is given to us, just as Jesus was anointed by the Spirit in his baptism.
The question is, what happens to that gift if we never use it, if we leave it wrapped up in a closet somewhere like that punch bowl Aunt Edna gave you for your wedding? I don’t believe the Spirit leaves us, but neither will the Spirit make his presence felt if we don’t invite her and exercise her gifts. Most of us have the ability to run a marathon, but unless we train and exercise, we lack the capacity. Similarly, many Christians leave the gifts of the Spirit unexercised. Then, when we’re confronted by what feels like a big prayer, a big need for healing or peace or reconciliation, we feel daunted and lacking in power.
Well, guess what? We have the power! We are given the power at baptism and it is confirmed in us at confirmation (that’s what “confirmed” means – confirmare, to strengthen). The power that made the universe and raised Christ from the dead lives in us. Will we exercise it or leave it on the shelf?
Like the other gifts of baptism we’re exploring this week – adoption, forgiveness, inclusion, belovedness – the gift of the Spirit’s power gets stronger when we remind each other it’s there. We can build our power-paks by asking for prayer more often. I know people who always say, “I’m fine,” when asked how they might be prayed for. That denies the Christians around that person the chance to exercise their spiritual gifts. Don’t say, “No thank you.” Tell people where in your life you’d like to see God’s power and love manifest. Don’t hold back or just ask for easy things. Be bold in prayer.
When you ask another person to pray for you, you’re more likely to pray for them. When we have a whole community exercising its faith in prayer, we get an empowered church, and nothing can stand in its way.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
When John the Baptizer was asked if he was the Messiah, or Elijah returned, he demurred: “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
Baptism in water is only the visible part of the gift. It is our unseen baptism in the Holy Spirit that changes everything. Too often churches neglect this greatest of all gifts, so dazzled by the play of water we don’t notice the fire at work. But fire is promised, and the Spirit is given to us, just as Jesus was anointed by the Spirit in his baptism.
The question is, what happens to that gift if we never use it, if we leave it wrapped up in a closet somewhere like that punch bowl Aunt Edna gave you for your wedding? I don’t believe the Spirit leaves us, but neither will the Spirit make his presence felt if we don’t invite her and exercise her gifts. Most of us have the ability to run a marathon, but unless we train and exercise, we lack the capacity. Similarly, many Christians leave the gifts of the Spirit unexercised. Then, when we’re confronted by what feels like a big prayer, a big need for healing or peace or reconciliation, we feel daunted and lacking in power.
Well, guess what? We have the power! We are given the power at baptism and it is confirmed in us at confirmation (that’s what “confirmed” means – confirmare, to strengthen). The power that made the universe and raised Christ from the dead lives in us. Will we exercise it or leave it on the shelf?
Like the other gifts of baptism we’re exploring this week – adoption, forgiveness, inclusion, belovedness – the gift of the Spirit’s power gets stronger when we remind each other it’s there. We can build our power-paks by asking for prayer more often. I know people who always say, “I’m fine,” when asked how they might be prayed for. That denies the Christians around that person the chance to exercise their spiritual gifts. Don’t say, “No thank you.” Tell people where in your life you’d like to see God’s power and love manifest. Don’t hold back or just ask for easy things. Be bold in prayer.
When you ask another person to pray for you, you’re more likely to pray for them. When we have a whole community exercising its faith in prayer, we get an empowered church, and nothing can stand in its way.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
1-8-25 - Welcomed
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Our world is in the midst of a protracted refugee crisis, with some 122.6 million forcibly displaced persons as of mid-2024, nearly 40 million of them refugees. The U.S. continues to see refugees on our southern border, and to contend with violence against immigrants. Jesus’ call to welcome the stranger is hotly debated, even among those who claim to follow him.
Spiritually speaking, we are all refugees, people who have been welcomed into what Jesus called the Kingdom of God, a realm wholly separate from the realm of this world but accessible from anywhere. And the rite by which our welcome is sealed is baptism. In baptism, we are given a passport and all the rights of citizenship – insight, hope, and power beyond comprehension. There are no second-class citizens or resident aliens in the Realm of God. All have equal rights and equal status – and equal responsibility.
The reason that we, our holiness imperfect at best, can be welcomed into the Realm of God where holiness reigns, is that Jesus brought his perfect holiness into the realm of this world. In that sense, he too was a refugee from another place, needing to acquire the language and customs of an alien land. His baptism in the Jordan River was a sign of his taking on this world, submerging himself in human reality, including the reality of death.
And, as we know from the story the Gospels tell, Jesus was welcomed about as warmly as many refugees are in today’s world. The clash of values, and the discomfort both his poverty and his power caused, led ultimately to his death. Yet in that death and his rising again he opened the way for us to be welcomed into God-Life.
How does it challenge you spiritually to think of yourself as a refugee welcomed into the Realm of God? What new customs and language and ways of relating to others do you need to learn in order to thrive in this land? What support groups might you join to ease your assimilation into this Life? And how might you help others assimilate?
As we explore the gifts of baptism this week, let’s remember our dual citizenship and seek to become ever more comfortable in that land where there is no death. And let’s reach out our hands to offer Life to those seeking to join us.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Our world is in the midst of a protracted refugee crisis, with some 122.6 million forcibly displaced persons as of mid-2024, nearly 40 million of them refugees. The U.S. continues to see refugees on our southern border, and to contend with violence against immigrants. Jesus’ call to welcome the stranger is hotly debated, even among those who claim to follow him.
Spiritually speaking, we are all refugees, people who have been welcomed into what Jesus called the Kingdom of God, a realm wholly separate from the realm of this world but accessible from anywhere. And the rite by which our welcome is sealed is baptism. In baptism, we are given a passport and all the rights of citizenship – insight, hope, and power beyond comprehension. There are no second-class citizens or resident aliens in the Realm of God. All have equal rights and equal status – and equal responsibility.
The reason that we, our holiness imperfect at best, can be welcomed into the Realm of God where holiness reigns, is that Jesus brought his perfect holiness into the realm of this world. In that sense, he too was a refugee from another place, needing to acquire the language and customs of an alien land. His baptism in the Jordan River was a sign of his taking on this world, submerging himself in human reality, including the reality of death.
And, as we know from the story the Gospels tell, Jesus was welcomed about as warmly as many refugees are in today’s world. The clash of values, and the discomfort both his poverty and his power caused, led ultimately to his death. Yet in that death and his rising again he opened the way for us to be welcomed into God-Life.
How does it challenge you spiritually to think of yourself as a refugee welcomed into the Realm of God? What new customs and language and ways of relating to others do you need to learn in order to thrive in this land? What support groups might you join to ease your assimilation into this Life? And how might you help others assimilate?
As we explore the gifts of baptism this week, let’s remember our dual citizenship and seek to become ever more comfortable in that land where there is no death. And let’s reach out our hands to offer Life to those seeking to join us.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
1-7-25 - Forgiven
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Most Christian traditions agree that baptism confers some measure of forgiveness, a washing away of sin. They argue about just how much sin is forgiven, and how completely. Are sins we have yet to commit washed away in baptism, or only those already laid to our account? Is it only "actualized" sin, or the proclivity to sin itself which is cleansed? And if the cleansing is both is retroactive and anticipatory, why bother baptizing babies who have barely had a chance to get busy sinning? Some even ask, why the focus on sin at all? Isn’t baptism just a happy occasion for God’s grace to flood us?
Yes, yes, and yes. Whether or not we use the word “sin,” most would agree that human beings are wired to benefit ourselves, and this ingrained self-orientation often leads to words and actions that adversely affect others and our connection with God. That's what we call sin. Yes, we’re capable for pushing past this wiring to be other-directed, but I don’t believe there is a person in the world for whom that is the default position. Oh wait, maybe there was one…
It is this basic orientation toward self for which we receive forgiveness in baptism. And so this sacrament, made holy by virtue of Jesus’ baptism, confers on us ultimate forgiveness, deservedly or not. Baptism is the source of our identity as forgiven sinner/saints. And as we understand, believe, appropriate and incorporate our identity as already forgiven, we are better able to push past our natural motivation toward self. The saint in us gradually overwhelms the sinner.
All that in a few drops of water? Yes! That’s the beauty of sacraments – it’s not the signs and symbols that do the work, but the Holy Spirit, invited and active in the gathered community, who effects eternal changes in this temporal realm. How differently might we behave if we felt eternally forgiven in the very midst of our messy, often self-seeking lives? How much freer we would be if we wore ID bracelets that read, “Forgiven!”
Maybe we should try that… or at least remind each other more often. So here I am reminding you. You are forgiven. Forever.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Most Christian traditions agree that baptism confers some measure of forgiveness, a washing away of sin. They argue about just how much sin is forgiven, and how completely. Are sins we have yet to commit washed away in baptism, or only those already laid to our account? Is it only "actualized" sin, or the proclivity to sin itself which is cleansed? And if the cleansing is both is retroactive and anticipatory, why bother baptizing babies who have barely had a chance to get busy sinning? Some even ask, why the focus on sin at all? Isn’t baptism just a happy occasion for God’s grace to flood us?
Yes, yes, and yes. Whether or not we use the word “sin,” most would agree that human beings are wired to benefit ourselves, and this ingrained self-orientation often leads to words and actions that adversely affect others and our connection with God. That's what we call sin. Yes, we’re capable for pushing past this wiring to be other-directed, but I don’t believe there is a person in the world for whom that is the default position. Oh wait, maybe there was one…
It is this basic orientation toward self for which we receive forgiveness in baptism. And so this sacrament, made holy by virtue of Jesus’ baptism, confers on us ultimate forgiveness, deservedly or not. Baptism is the source of our identity as forgiven sinner/saints. And as we understand, believe, appropriate and incorporate our identity as already forgiven, we are better able to push past our natural motivation toward self. The saint in us gradually overwhelms the sinner.
All that in a few drops of water? Yes! That’s the beauty of sacraments – it’s not the signs and symbols that do the work, but the Holy Spirit, invited and active in the gathered community, who effects eternal changes in this temporal realm. How differently might we behave if we felt eternally forgiven in the very midst of our messy, often self-seeking lives? How much freer we would be if we wore ID bracelets that read, “Forgiven!”
Maybe we should try that… or at least remind each other more often. So here I am reminding you. You are forgiven. Forever.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
1-6-25 - Adopted
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, for centuries the occasion when the early church celebrated Jesus’ birth, until someone came up with Christmas. Epiphany celebrates all the ways that Christ’s identity was made known to the nations beyond his own Jewish people – his birth, the visitation of the magi, his first miracle at the wedding in Cana, his transfiguration on the mountaintop, and his baptism, always the gospel reading for the first Sunday in the season of Epiphany. Of all the “showings” that revealed Jesus’ Messianic identity, his baptism was among the most significant. This story's inclusion in all four gospels (though “off-screen” in John’s account…) attests to its foundational importance for the early church. Indeed, Jesus’ baptism has been seen by Christians in all generations as the font from which our rite of baptism sprang, and it has shaped our understanding of this one ritual that all Christians have in common.
Instead of exploring Sunday's gospel text this week, we will reflect on baptism itself, addressing some of the different ways the Church understands this primal rite of initiation. Let's start with the new identity we receive in baptism as we are adopted into the family of God.
Our catechism and baptismal liturgy speak of baptism as a rite of adoption. What happens when someone is adopted? They don’t lose their prior identity, but are welcomed into a new family, not as a guest or servant, but as a son or daughter with equal rights and responsibilities as other family members. Baptism confers such a complete affirmation and status upon us that it’s the exact opposite of that old expression, “Blood is thicker than water.” The waters of baptism override every other form of relationship, inviting us into a vast and eternal family in which the most recent addition is as valued and precious as the eldest.
Our families of origin are wonderful and terrible and everything in between. Our spiritual family is meant to be a place of healing and growth. Does it help you in your spiritual walk to know that you have been adopted into a new family, made a true sister or brother with Jesus himself? What would help you remember that at times when you feel low?
On this day when we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, the showing forth of God's revelation, let’s celebrate the unseen gifts of baptism and make Christ known in the way we display his power and love. How wonderful it would be if followers of Christ went around reminding each other of our adoption as precious sons and daughters of God, treating each other as true sisters and brothers. In Christ, we are. Water is way thicker than blood!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, for centuries the occasion when the early church celebrated Jesus’ birth, until someone came up with Christmas. Epiphany celebrates all the ways that Christ’s identity was made known to the nations beyond his own Jewish people – his birth, the visitation of the magi, his first miracle at the wedding in Cana, his transfiguration on the mountaintop, and his baptism, always the gospel reading for the first Sunday in the season of Epiphany. Of all the “showings” that revealed Jesus’ Messianic identity, his baptism was among the most significant. This story's inclusion in all four gospels (though “off-screen” in John’s account…) attests to its foundational importance for the early church. Indeed, Jesus’ baptism has been seen by Christians in all generations as the font from which our rite of baptism sprang, and it has shaped our understanding of this one ritual that all Christians have in common.
Instead of exploring Sunday's gospel text this week, we will reflect on baptism itself, addressing some of the different ways the Church understands this primal rite of initiation. Let's start with the new identity we receive in baptism as we are adopted into the family of God.
Our catechism and baptismal liturgy speak of baptism as a rite of adoption. What happens when someone is adopted? They don’t lose their prior identity, but are welcomed into a new family, not as a guest or servant, but as a son or daughter with equal rights and responsibilities as other family members. Baptism confers such a complete affirmation and status upon us that it’s the exact opposite of that old expression, “Blood is thicker than water.” The waters of baptism override every other form of relationship, inviting us into a vast and eternal family in which the most recent addition is as valued and precious as the eldest.
Our families of origin are wonderful and terrible and everything in between. Our spiritual family is meant to be a place of healing and growth. Does it help you in your spiritual walk to know that you have been adopted into a new family, made a true sister or brother with Jesus himself? What would help you remember that at times when you feel low?
On this day when we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, the showing forth of God's revelation, let’s celebrate the unseen gifts of baptism and make Christ known in the way we display his power and love. How wonderful it would be if followers of Christ went around reminding each other of our adoption as precious sons and daughters of God, treating each other as true sisters and brothers. In Christ, we are. Water is way thicker than blood!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
1-4-24 - Voice of Love
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
We’ve been looking this week at the story of Jesus’ baptism, and how each element has become incorporated into our own baptismal services. We pour the water, we invoke the Holy Spirit’s anointing by applying oil to the baptized person. Where, though, does this aural affirmation come in?
We might say, “It goes without saying.” The whole act of baptism is a response to the Love of God. We see it as incorporation into the family of God. Do we need to hear God’s “I love you?” when we’re bathed in it?
Well… yes. We’re human, and limited, and we need to hear it. Jesus heard it, and it’s not like HE needed to be reminded of his Father’s love. Or did he? Was the mission he was just starting going to be so hard and lonely and dangerous, that he very much needed to be reminded how beloved he was?
Maybe God is always telling us how pleased God is with us, reminding us how beloved we are, but we aren’t tuned to that frequency. This world and its messages throws out a lot of static. (Casting Crowns has a good song about that, Voice of Truth.) Our own inner sense of inadequacy or insecurity, however we come by that, so often overrides that message of love. How can we hear it for ourselves?
One way is to tune in every day – whether it’s a quiet time of prayer in the morning, or a step off the treadmill sometime mid-day, or in reflection in the evening. If we can cultivate the daily reminder of our baptismal life and the promises God has made to us, we might find ourselves more often dwelling in our belovedness.
But we also need to remind each other. No one is called into Christian life in a vacuum. The “noise” around us will always overwhelm us if we don’t encourage and support each other. Who has been good at reminding you that you are beloved of God, delightful and pleasing to God? Who in your life might need a reminder this week?
At one point during the Episcopal baptismal service, the congregation is asked, “Will you support this person in her life in Christ?” And the answer is to be a resounding “We will!” That’s one of the times in the liturgy when we hear the voice of the beloved, God, speaking through us.
God has not stopped speaking through us. Who will hear through you today how beloved he is, she is? That's the only way the world will hear it.
And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
We’ve been looking this week at the story of Jesus’ baptism, and how each element has become incorporated into our own baptismal services. We pour the water, we invoke the Holy Spirit’s anointing by applying oil to the baptized person. Where, though, does this aural affirmation come in?
We might say, “It goes without saying.” The whole act of baptism is a response to the Love of God. We see it as incorporation into the family of God. Do we need to hear God’s “I love you?” when we’re bathed in it?
Well… yes. We’re human, and limited, and we need to hear it. Jesus heard it, and it’s not like HE needed to be reminded of his Father’s love. Or did he? Was the mission he was just starting going to be so hard and lonely and dangerous, that he very much needed to be reminded how beloved he was?
Maybe God is always telling us how pleased God is with us, reminding us how beloved we are, but we aren’t tuned to that frequency. This world and its messages throws out a lot of static. (Casting Crowns has a good song about that, Voice of Truth.) Our own inner sense of inadequacy or insecurity, however we come by that, so often overrides that message of love. How can we hear it for ourselves?
One way is to tune in every day – whether it’s a quiet time of prayer in the morning, or a step off the treadmill sometime mid-day, or in reflection in the evening. If we can cultivate the daily reminder of our baptismal life and the promises God has made to us, we might find ourselves more often dwelling in our belovedness.
But we also need to remind each other. No one is called into Christian life in a vacuum. The “noise” around us will always overwhelm us if we don’t encourage and support each other. Who has been good at reminding you that you are beloved of God, delightful and pleasing to God? Who in your life might need a reminder this week?
At one point during the Episcopal baptismal service, the congregation is asked, “Will you support this person in her life in Christ?” And the answer is to be a resounding “We will!” That’s one of the times in the liturgy when we hear the voice of the beloved, God, speaking through us.
God has not stopped speaking through us. Who will hear through you today how beloved he is, she is? That's the only way the world will hear it.
1-3-24 - Oil
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We use two materials when we baptize someone, at least in the “sacramental” Christian traditions, Catholic, Orthodox, Lutheran and Anglican. The most obvious is water. No less important is oil.
We don’t use oil in the same quantities as we do water, but in some early church communities a candidate’s whole body might be anointed with it, and in others oil was poured into the font along with water. In some early baptismal rites, a baptizand’s hands, feet, face and head were anointed.
This may well have been a baptismal ritual as St. Paul knew it in the earliest days of the Church. In Ephesians, he writes, “When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit…” That’s just what we say when we make the sign of the cross in oil on the forehead of someone being baptized: “You are sealed with the Holy Spirit in baptism, and marked as Christ’s own forever.” Paul likened that anointing to a down-payment of sorts: “…the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession.”
It is the oil, chrism, that gives us the word “christening.” That’s how fundamental is the chrismation part of the baptismal ritual. For oil is the Sign or symbol for the Holy Spirit. At Jesus’ baptism, it was the anointing with the Spirit that revealed him as the Anointed One, or the “Christ” (same root word as chrism).
We might even deem the oil more important than the water. The water symbolizes the cleansing, forgiving, dying and rebirth realities of baptism. But it is the gift of the Holy Spirit uniting us with Christ that makes us Christians. That’s where our new identity comes from, the birth of a new person, you + Jesus. Without the Holy Spirit we are just strivers; with the Spirit of Christ in us we are carried along on the Mission of God – and that cannot fail.
One of the readings appointed for next Sunday is from the book of Acts, about a time when Paul came upon a group of church leaders from Ephesus who had been baptized by disciples of John the Baptist. “He said to them, ‘Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?’ They replied, ‘No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.’" Paul baptizes them into the name of Jesus and lays hands upon them in prayer – and they are filled with the Spirit.
Do you feel you’ve received the Holy Spirit? If you’ve been baptized in the Episcopal Church, you have. But our churches can be awfully quiet about the Spirit, so that we become almost like those Ephesians, barely aware of this Life Force by which we are renewed to be most fully who we are and empowered to do more than we can “ask or imagine.” If you don’t feel well acquainted with the Holy Spirit, there’s some spiritual work to do. We can begin with the simplest of prayers: “Come, Spirit of Christ, fill me. Come, Spirit of the Father, renew me. Come, Holy Spirit, empower me.” And then see what happens.
We have been sealed. The deposit has been made. It’s time to start spending our inheritance; it will never run out.
We use two materials when we baptize someone, at least in the “sacramental” Christian traditions, Catholic, Orthodox, Lutheran and Anglican. The most obvious is water. No less important is oil.
We don’t use oil in the same quantities as we do water, but in some early church communities a candidate’s whole body might be anointed with it, and in others oil was poured into the font along with water. In some early baptismal rites, a baptizand’s hands, feet, face and head were anointed.
This may well have been a baptismal ritual as St. Paul knew it in the earliest days of the Church. In Ephesians, he writes, “When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit…” That’s just what we say when we make the sign of the cross in oil on the forehead of someone being baptized: “You are sealed with the Holy Spirit in baptism, and marked as Christ’s own forever.” Paul likened that anointing to a down-payment of sorts: “…the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession.”
It is the oil, chrism, that gives us the word “christening.” That’s how fundamental is the chrismation part of the baptismal ritual. For oil is the Sign or symbol for the Holy Spirit. At Jesus’ baptism, it was the anointing with the Spirit that revealed him as the Anointed One, or the “Christ” (same root word as chrism).
We might even deem the oil more important than the water. The water symbolizes the cleansing, forgiving, dying and rebirth realities of baptism. But it is the gift of the Holy Spirit uniting us with Christ that makes us Christians. That’s where our new identity comes from, the birth of a new person, you + Jesus. Without the Holy Spirit we are just strivers; with the Spirit of Christ in us we are carried along on the Mission of God – and that cannot fail.
One of the readings appointed for next Sunday is from the book of Acts, about a time when Paul came upon a group of church leaders from Ephesus who had been baptized by disciples of John the Baptist. “He said to them, ‘Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?’ They replied, ‘No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.’" Paul baptizes them into the name of Jesus and lays hands upon them in prayer – and they are filled with the Spirit.
Do you feel you’ve received the Holy Spirit? If you’ve been baptized in the Episcopal Church, you have. But our churches can be awfully quiet about the Spirit, so that we become almost like those Ephesians, barely aware of this Life Force by which we are renewed to be most fully who we are and empowered to do more than we can “ask or imagine.” If you don’t feel well acquainted with the Holy Spirit, there’s some spiritual work to do. We can begin with the simplest of prayers: “Come, Spirit of Christ, fill me. Come, Spirit of the Father, renew me. Come, Holy Spirit, empower me.” And then see what happens.
We have been sealed. The deposit has been made. It’s time to start spending our inheritance; it will never run out.
1-2-24 - Water Life
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Exploring Jesus’ baptism this week gives us an opportunity to examine the sacrament of baptism. There’s a fancy name for teaching about sacraments: mystagogy, the study of the sacred mysteries. Mystagogy flourished in the fourth century, when the emperor Constantine’s declaring Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire brought a flood of would-be converts to seek baptism. A few bishops – notably Ambrose of Milan, John Chrysostom, Cyril of Jerusalem and Theodore of Mopsuestia (say that three times fast!) offered instruction about the sacraments to catechumens before they were baptized.
Our mystagogy this week will be simple – we’ll just focus on the elements involved in baptism. We begin with water, the most fundamental of fluids for life, and for God-Life.
Sometimes I think we belong in the water – our life starts in a sealed, watery place, nine months floating in a sack of amniotic fluid, with embryonic arms like flippers. And then we’re born – which is freedom, but also makes us fish out of water. Some people spend their whole life trying to get back to that warm enclosed place – to live in the water.
Do you like a nice, hot bath after a hard day? Easing yourself in because it’s just a little too hot, letting the water close over your tired feet, aching muscles, letting your back settle in, enclosed in warm water.... Or are you a shower person, standing in the flow, letting it wash over your face, your shoulders and neck…. Or let’s go bigger: walking into a cool lake on a hot day, the smooth, gentle water enveloping you… Swimming in the ocean can feel the most freeing of all. It’s bracing, it’s huge, you can dive down and float on the waves, it’s vast and refreshing. Sometimes I think we belong in the water.
The Bible is full of significant water, from Creation to the Ark to the Red Sea to the Jordan River. And there, symbolically, is where we all begin our life in Christ, going with him down into the water, letting the merely human person in us die and be reborn as the new creation that emerges with Christ from the depths. That’s why water, lots of it, is so important in the sacrament of baptism – it is symbolically enough water to drown in, and also enough to birth us into new life.
The baptismal water is where our eternal life truly begins. Once with water and the three-fold name of God, it’s accomplished. It’s done. And whether you were sprinkled, toe-dipped, dunked or half-drowned, you got the whole thing. You went down and were laid in the watery tomb with Christ. You got up and were raised to life eternal with Christ. You were baptized in the waters of life for ever and ever!
One way to feel more alive as Christ followers is to practice remembering our baptism every day. We are surrounded with reminders – the water we drink, bathe in, wash dishes with. What if we cultivate the habit of remembering our baptism every time we feel water on our skin? Remind ourselves that we were washed and cleansed and reclaimed and reborn in water? Maybe we’d remember how beloved we are, which might make us more loving.
One of my favorite bands, The Lone Bellow, has a song says it. Let's all go Deeper in the Water.
Exploring Jesus’ baptism this week gives us an opportunity to examine the sacrament of baptism. There’s a fancy name for teaching about sacraments: mystagogy, the study of the sacred mysteries. Mystagogy flourished in the fourth century, when the emperor Constantine’s declaring Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire brought a flood of would-be converts to seek baptism. A few bishops – notably Ambrose of Milan, John Chrysostom, Cyril of Jerusalem and Theodore of Mopsuestia (say that three times fast!) offered instruction about the sacraments to catechumens before they were baptized.
Our mystagogy this week will be simple – we’ll just focus on the elements involved in baptism. We begin with water, the most fundamental of fluids for life, and for God-Life.
Sometimes I think we belong in the water – our life starts in a sealed, watery place, nine months floating in a sack of amniotic fluid, with embryonic arms like flippers. And then we’re born – which is freedom, but also makes us fish out of water. Some people spend their whole life trying to get back to that warm enclosed place – to live in the water.
Do you like a nice, hot bath after a hard day? Easing yourself in because it’s just a little too hot, letting the water close over your tired feet, aching muscles, letting your back settle in, enclosed in warm water.... Or are you a shower person, standing in the flow, letting it wash over your face, your shoulders and neck…. Or let’s go bigger: walking into a cool lake on a hot day, the smooth, gentle water enveloping you… Swimming in the ocean can feel the most freeing of all. It’s bracing, it’s huge, you can dive down and float on the waves, it’s vast and refreshing. Sometimes I think we belong in the water.
The Bible is full of significant water, from Creation to the Ark to the Red Sea to the Jordan River. And there, symbolically, is where we all begin our life in Christ, going with him down into the water, letting the merely human person in us die and be reborn as the new creation that emerges with Christ from the depths. That’s why water, lots of it, is so important in the sacrament of baptism – it is symbolically enough water to drown in, and also enough to birth us into new life.
The baptismal water is where our eternal life truly begins. Once with water and the three-fold name of God, it’s accomplished. It’s done. And whether you were sprinkled, toe-dipped, dunked or half-drowned, you got the whole thing. You went down and were laid in the watery tomb with Christ. You got up and were raised to life eternal with Christ. You were baptized in the waters of life for ever and ever!
One way to feel more alive as Christ followers is to practice remembering our baptism every day. We are surrounded with reminders – the water we drink, bathe in, wash dishes with. What if we cultivate the habit of remembering our baptism every time we feel water on our skin? Remind ourselves that we were washed and cleansed and reclaimed and reborn in water? Maybe we’d remember how beloved we are, which might make us more loving.
One of my favorite bands, The Lone Bellow, has a song says it. Let's all go Deeper in the Water.
1-1-24 - New Year, Every Day
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Why the fuss over a turn of the calendar? Isn’t it the same revolution in the same orbit around the same sun that we traverse every day and night and day again? Time doesn’t march; it rolls us ever into a new place in the same old space, over and over.
Ah, but who doesn’t yearn for a new beginning?
Church time rolls in circles too. This week we return to that Jordan River where we saw John baptizing people – only now we are further along in the story, and see Jesus himself come out to be baptized. We will explore this week what baptism is and means, but above all it offers new life, the birth of the new creation we are in Christ.
On this New Years Day, take some time to ask yourself:
What in your life do you wish was new?
What feels old or stale or over?
Where do you see new life emerging, inside of you, outside of you?
What life do you yearn for?
Why the fuss over a turn of the calendar? Isn’t it the same revolution in the same orbit around the same sun that we traverse every day and night and day again? Time doesn’t march; it rolls us ever into a new place in the same old space, over and over.
Ah, but who doesn’t yearn for a new beginning?
Church time rolls in circles too. This week we return to that Jordan River where we saw John baptizing people – only now we are further along in the story, and see Jesus himself come out to be baptized. We will explore this week what baptism is and means, but above all it offers new life, the birth of the new creation we are in Christ.
On this New Years Day, take some time to ask yourself:
What in your life do you wish was new?
What feels old or stale or over?
Where do you see new life emerging, inside of you, outside of you?
What life do you yearn for?
Invite God into the answers and the questions, the joys and the yearning.
One promise of baptism is that we were made new once, and somehow are being made new all the time. Pray to be connected with your baptismal self. That person exists, right here and now. She or he may be sharing space with a whole lot of other selves, but that baptismal self of ours is a holy, eternal creation.
What if we spent some time each morning inviting our baptismal self into the foreground? How might it change the way we interact with the day and the people we encounter in it? How might it change the way we treat ourselves?
Faith and even ministry may not always begin with baptism, but each Christian traces membership in the eternal Body of Christ back to that river Jordan, back to that water of life. Let’s go down to the river again.
Blessed New Year!
One promise of baptism is that we were made new once, and somehow are being made new all the time. Pray to be connected with your baptismal self. That person exists, right here and now. She or he may be sharing space with a whole lot of other selves, but that baptismal self of ours is a holy, eternal creation.
What if we spent some time each morning inviting our baptismal self into the foreground? How might it change the way we interact with the day and the people we encounter in it? How might it change the way we treat ourselves?
Faith and even ministry may not always begin with baptism, but each Christian traces membership in the eternal Body of Christ back to that river Jordan, back to that water of life. Let’s go down to the river again.
Blessed New Year!
12-14-23 - Water and Oil
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The temple authorities sent a delegation to investigate John’s ministry because they needed to know by what authority he was operating. Having established that he was not an earthly incarnation of a holy figure, they wanted to know, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?”
Once more, John does not answer their question directly, saying rather, "I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal."
It would be easier to grasp if the writer of John’s gospel had used the fuller quote the other three evangelists cite: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
In that version, the water baptism John offered is contrasted with the Spirit baptism Jesus will initiate. In effect, his reply to the questioners is, “It doesn’t matter who I am, really – I’m not the main event. My baptism in water as a sign of repentance is just preparing people to receive the much more powerful, transforming baptism of Spirit – and that will come from someone already in your midst, whom you do not recognize, whose sandals I am unworthy even to untie.”
When we are baptized into the Christian faith, what matters most is the gift of the Spirit. Too many modern baptismal rituals emphasize the water and are weak on conveying the Spirit, which is symbolized by the oil of chrism with which candidates are anointed. In some early Christian rites, the oil was so important, candidates were covered with it. Both elements are crucial to the sacrament of baptism, and our celebration of that sacrament is enhanced when the “sign value” is enlarged, the quantities and gestures expansive enough to convey the power that is being invoked and invited into our midst.
We can feel the water; that’s important. It symbolizes both the cleansing of a bath and a drowning in which our natural selves die, and our eternal, spiritual selves are born as the union of our spirits with Christ’s spirit. The gift of Spirit, though, cannot be felt with our senses, except through that little dab of oil on the forehead, but that is where everything we need to live in God-Life is bestowed on us.
If we were christened as infants, we may not remember our baptisms, but this baptism of Spirit can be relived, re-experienced as often as we’re willing to pray, “Come, Holy Spirit. Fill me. Guide me. Work through me.”
Like John, we point to the One by whom our works are made possible. We are not worthy to untie his shoe laces – yet he has seen fit to stoop to us, to dwell with us, to dwell in us. That gift is forever.
The temple authorities sent a delegation to investigate John’s ministry because they needed to know by what authority he was operating. Having established that he was not an earthly incarnation of a holy figure, they wanted to know, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?”
Once more, John does not answer their question directly, saying rather, "I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal."
It would be easier to grasp if the writer of John’s gospel had used the fuller quote the other three evangelists cite: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
In that version, the water baptism John offered is contrasted with the Spirit baptism Jesus will initiate. In effect, his reply to the questioners is, “It doesn’t matter who I am, really – I’m not the main event. My baptism in water as a sign of repentance is just preparing people to receive the much more powerful, transforming baptism of Spirit – and that will come from someone already in your midst, whom you do not recognize, whose sandals I am unworthy even to untie.”
When we are baptized into the Christian faith, what matters most is the gift of the Spirit. Too many modern baptismal rituals emphasize the water and are weak on conveying the Spirit, which is symbolized by the oil of chrism with which candidates are anointed. In some early Christian rites, the oil was so important, candidates were covered with it. Both elements are crucial to the sacrament of baptism, and our celebration of that sacrament is enhanced when the “sign value” is enlarged, the quantities and gestures expansive enough to convey the power that is being invoked and invited into our midst.
We can feel the water; that’s important. It symbolizes both the cleansing of a bath and a drowning in which our natural selves die, and our eternal, spiritual selves are born as the union of our spirits with Christ’s spirit. The gift of Spirit, though, cannot be felt with our senses, except through that little dab of oil on the forehead, but that is where everything we need to live in God-Life is bestowed on us.
If we were christened as infants, we may not remember our baptisms, but this baptism of Spirit can be relived, re-experienced as often as we’re willing to pray, “Come, Holy Spirit. Fill me. Guide me. Work through me.”
Like John, we point to the One by whom our works are made possible. We are not worthy to untie his shoe laces – yet he has seen fit to stoop to us, to dwell with us, to dwell in us. That gift is forever.
12-8-23 - Baptized In Spirit
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The baptism that John the Baptist administered in the Jordan River was more than a bath, though not precisely what we know as baptism. This ritual submersion symbolically enacted the spiritual work of repentance entered into by those who flocked to hear John’s message. Perhaps it was akin to the mikveh known in Judaism today. John knew this was a rite of preparation, not the whole deal.
John had a mission: to help people prepare for a revelation of God no one could truly anticipate, not even John. Who could imagine God embodied before beholding that mystery? John only knew that the One to come was more powerful and holy than could be conceived. He had just one job: to invite repentance, a clearing of spiritual space. His water ritual could convey that reality. Beyond that was another baptism that only Christ could effect: baptism with the Holy Spirit.
He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
What does it mean to be “baptized with the Holy Spirit?” Pentecostals' use of that language can make “mainline religious" folks kind of twitchy. But here it is, right in the gospels. What does it mean? Some see it as being filled with the Holy Spirit to the point where there is a discernible manifestation like speaking in tongues or prophesying or power to heal. This was what it meant to Paul’s Corinthian congregations, who were very focused on discernible manifestations of the Spirit’s power.
What might “baptism in the Spirit” mean to us? Let’s try a thought experiment. Imagine being submerged in water. Let yourself experience it in your mind. What happens when you sink into deep water? You get wet all over; the water even gets into your nose and mouth. Depending on temperature differential with the air, you might find yourself pleasantly warmed or cooled, refreshed, comforted. You find yourself supported by the water’s density; it’s not all up to you.
Let’s assume that’s what baptism in the Spirit means: we are drenched and filled with the Spirit of the Living God, uniting with our spirit to fill us with God-Life. We might find ourselves getting very warm, or cool – we feel energy coming into us, and we are refreshed. We find ourselves in the presence of another Presence – we are not alone; we are conduits for power from outside us. It’s not all up to us.
I wish more Christians would crave being filled with the Holy Spirit, would ardently seek spiritual gifts to support them in the ministries to which they feel called. The Holy Spirit is the Gift that gives more gifts, always replenishing us – as we ask. For some reason, the Spirit seems to want invitation.
If you desire a deeper experience of the Holy Spirit, pray for it. Be open to the sensations you might experience. Be open to not experiencing anything in that moment – you might realize something has changed down the line.
The Holy Spirit is our gift at baptism, renewed in eucharist, replenished whenever we are active in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation. In fact, the Spirit is how we find ourselves reclaimed, restored and renewed.
The baptism that John the Baptist administered in the Jordan River was more than a bath, though not precisely what we know as baptism. This ritual submersion symbolically enacted the spiritual work of repentance entered into by those who flocked to hear John’s message. Perhaps it was akin to the mikveh known in Judaism today. John knew this was a rite of preparation, not the whole deal.
John had a mission: to help people prepare for a revelation of God no one could truly anticipate, not even John. Who could imagine God embodied before beholding that mystery? John only knew that the One to come was more powerful and holy than could be conceived. He had just one job: to invite repentance, a clearing of spiritual space. His water ritual could convey that reality. Beyond that was another baptism that only Christ could effect: baptism with the Holy Spirit.
He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
What does it mean to be “baptized with the Holy Spirit?” Pentecostals' use of that language can make “mainline religious" folks kind of twitchy. But here it is, right in the gospels. What does it mean? Some see it as being filled with the Holy Spirit to the point where there is a discernible manifestation like speaking in tongues or prophesying or power to heal. This was what it meant to Paul’s Corinthian congregations, who were very focused on discernible manifestations of the Spirit’s power.
What might “baptism in the Spirit” mean to us? Let’s try a thought experiment. Imagine being submerged in water. Let yourself experience it in your mind. What happens when you sink into deep water? You get wet all over; the water even gets into your nose and mouth. Depending on temperature differential with the air, you might find yourself pleasantly warmed or cooled, refreshed, comforted. You find yourself supported by the water’s density; it’s not all up to you.
Let’s assume that’s what baptism in the Spirit means: we are drenched and filled with the Spirit of the Living God, uniting with our spirit to fill us with God-Life. We might find ourselves getting very warm, or cool – we feel energy coming into us, and we are refreshed. We find ourselves in the presence of another Presence – we are not alone; we are conduits for power from outside us. It’s not all up to us.
I wish more Christians would crave being filled with the Holy Spirit, would ardently seek spiritual gifts to support them in the ministries to which they feel called. The Holy Spirit is the Gift that gives more gifts, always replenishing us – as we ask. For some reason, the Spirit seems to want invitation.
If you desire a deeper experience of the Holy Spirit, pray for it. Be open to the sensations you might experience. Be open to not experiencing anything in that moment – you might realize something has changed down the line.
The Holy Spirit is our gift at baptism, renewed in eucharist, replenished whenever we are active in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation. In fact, the Spirit is how we find ourselves reclaimed, restored and renewed.
2-28-23 - Water and Spirit
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
In the early church, there was a strong understanding that in baptism a new creation is birthed – so strong, in fact, that some baptismal fonts were designed to evoke wombs or even birth canals:
Since many people were baptized as adults, long after their physical births, the experience was meant as a rebirth, in line with Jesus' words:
“Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anew.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.”
Maybe Jesus is being frustratingly figurative – and Nicodemus unnecessarily literal in his question about re-entering the womb. But it does prompt Jesus to clarify what he means by “born anew,” or “born from above” (the Greek allows either). He is saying that physical birth – our mere humanness – does not equip us to see nor “enter” the kingdom of God. We must be born of water and Spirit.
Water hints at baptism – John’s Gospel was likely the latest written, when baptism as a Christian ritual would already have been well established. His is the only gospel to mention Jesus baptizing anyone. And, of course, water, or fluid, is an integral part of physical birth as well – that’s partly why it is such a potent symbol of new birth for Christians, because every human comes into being in a bath of amniotic fluid. It is life outside the water, post-birth, that is the real shock.
But what does it mean to be born of Spirit? Well, even before Jesus came on the scene, John the Baptist is heard to say, “I baptize you with water; one is coming whose sandals I am unworthy to tie – he will baptize with the Holy Spirit, and with fire.” The idea of being “baptized” with the Holy Spirit suggests being bathed, immersed, drenched in the power and presence and peace of the Spirit of God. It implies spiritual purification and transformation so complete, it’s like a new birth. In fact, we claim a new creation does result from that union of Christ’s Spirit with ours in baptism.
Does your head hurt yet? Don’t worry – this conversation gets more confusing. Today let’s try to wrap our minds around the idea of being born anew or born from above. And here’s a fact: no one can get themselves born. Being born happens to us. It is someone else’s work. We can’t even really resist the birth process – it happens, ready or not. The only difference with spiritual birth is, we get to say “yes.”
Have you ever had an experience of the Holy Spirit that you could feel? A sense of filling, or being surrounded with love? Sometimes there are manifestations like tingling, or our hands getting hot, or even weeping. Sometimes we feel our spirits want to praise and thank God. If you would like to know that aspect of God, simply ask the Spirit to come. “Come, Holy Spirit, I’m open…“will do just fine. Or ask someone else to pray for you to be filled with the Spirit. And don’t worry if you do or do not feel anything – sometimes we know the Spirit’s been with us later, by the fruits that result from that encounter.
Our physical birth was one event. Long, short, easy or challenging, it was eventually done and we were born. Our spiritual birth takes a lifetime. In some ways, what we are doing all our lives in this world is being born anew, being prepared for life in that Life where there is no death, only life and more life.
In the early church, there was a strong understanding that in baptism a new creation is birthed – so strong, in fact, that some baptismal fonts were designed to evoke wombs or even birth canals:
Since many people were baptized as adults, long after their physical births, the experience was meant as a rebirth, in line with Jesus' words:
“Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anew.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.”
Maybe Jesus is being frustratingly figurative – and Nicodemus unnecessarily literal in his question about re-entering the womb. But it does prompt Jesus to clarify what he means by “born anew,” or “born from above” (the Greek allows either). He is saying that physical birth – our mere humanness – does not equip us to see nor “enter” the kingdom of God. We must be born of water and Spirit.
Water hints at baptism – John’s Gospel was likely the latest written, when baptism as a Christian ritual would already have been well established. His is the only gospel to mention Jesus baptizing anyone. And, of course, water, or fluid, is an integral part of physical birth as well – that’s partly why it is such a potent symbol of new birth for Christians, because every human comes into being in a bath of amniotic fluid. It is life outside the water, post-birth, that is the real shock.
But what does it mean to be born of Spirit? Well, even before Jesus came on the scene, John the Baptist is heard to say, “I baptize you with water; one is coming whose sandals I am unworthy to tie – he will baptize with the Holy Spirit, and with fire.” The idea of being “baptized” with the Holy Spirit suggests being bathed, immersed, drenched in the power and presence and peace of the Spirit of God. It implies spiritual purification and transformation so complete, it’s like a new birth. In fact, we claim a new creation does result from that union of Christ’s Spirit with ours in baptism.
Does your head hurt yet? Don’t worry – this conversation gets more confusing. Today let’s try to wrap our minds around the idea of being born anew or born from above. And here’s a fact: no one can get themselves born. Being born happens to us. It is someone else’s work. We can’t even really resist the birth process – it happens, ready or not. The only difference with spiritual birth is, we get to say “yes.”
Have you ever had an experience of the Holy Spirit that you could feel? A sense of filling, or being surrounded with love? Sometimes there are manifestations like tingling, or our hands getting hot, or even weeping. Sometimes we feel our spirits want to praise and thank God. If you would like to know that aspect of God, simply ask the Spirit to come. “Come, Holy Spirit, I’m open…“will do just fine. Or ask someone else to pray for you to be filled with the Spirit. And don’t worry if you do or do not feel anything – sometimes we know the Spirit’s been with us later, by the fruits that result from that encounter.
Our physical birth was one event. Long, short, easy or challenging, it was eventually done and we were born. Our spiritual birth takes a lifetime. In some ways, what we are doing all our lives in this world is being born anew, being prepared for life in that Life where there is no death, only life and more life.
1-9-23 - You and Jesus
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
John the Baptist is front and center during Advent, and rarely seen the rest of the church year. Yet here he is in January, popping up as an eyewitness to the identity of Christ. His testimony is remarkable:
The next day [John] saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.”
The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. That’s a mouthful, signifying from the beginning of the story the sacrificial aspect of Jesus’ mission. And John is very sure of who Jesus is. “This is the one I was talking about, who I said was coming, who is greater than I. He is why I do this!” If John is unhappy about his season waning while another’s ripens, he doesn’t show it. He is clear about who he is and who Jesus is. That’s where spiritual maturity begins.
It is generally unwise to define ourselves in comparison to someone else. But if that someone else is Jesus, it can help give us a clearer picture. Here’s a prayer experiment to try today: Sit quietly, maybe light a candle, let your breathing slow and deepen, let yourself get centered. Close your eyes, and picture yourself. Where are you? What are you wearing? What do you hear, smell, see? What do you think about what you see? What do you feel?
Then bring Jesus into the picture. Imagine him sitting with you. No need to stress about what he looks like or if you have a visual sense of him – just let him be a presence. How do you look next to him? Who do you see when you look at yourself through his eyes?
If feelings come up that you want to speak, go ahead – that’s prayer, talking with God.
John the Baptist is front and center during Advent, and rarely seen the rest of the church year. Yet here he is in January, popping up as an eyewitness to the identity of Christ. His testimony is remarkable:
The next day [John] saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.”
The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. That’s a mouthful, signifying from the beginning of the story the sacrificial aspect of Jesus’ mission. And John is very sure of who Jesus is. “This is the one I was talking about, who I said was coming, who is greater than I. He is why I do this!” If John is unhappy about his season waning while another’s ripens, he doesn’t show it. He is clear about who he is and who Jesus is. That’s where spiritual maturity begins.
It is generally unwise to define ourselves in comparison to someone else. But if that someone else is Jesus, it can help give us a clearer picture. Here’s a prayer experiment to try today: Sit quietly, maybe light a candle, let your breathing slow and deepen, let yourself get centered. Close your eyes, and picture yourself. Where are you? What are you wearing? What do you hear, smell, see? What do you think about what you see? What do you feel?
Then bring Jesus into the picture. Imagine him sitting with you. No need to stress about what he looks like or if you have a visual sense of him – just let him be a presence. How do you look next to him? Who do you see when you look at yourself through his eyes?
If feelings come up that you want to speak, go ahead – that’s prayer, talking with God.
If you hear a response from Jesus, that’s great. That’s prayer, God talking with us. If visualizing in prayer isn’t for you, just ask God, “Who do you see when you look at me?” Wait to see if you sense a response; I often find they come quickly and are surprising. God wants us to know who we are in God’s eyes.
When we look at ourselves with Jesus in the picture, we know at least three things: We know we’re not God; we know we’re not perfect; we know we’re loved.
And when we know these things about ourselves, we tend to be gentler with ourselves, more compassionate with other people, and a whole lot freer with our love. That’s what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, an apostle of the Good News, and a saint in God's church.
.
When we look at ourselves with Jesus in the picture, we know at least three things: We know we’re not God; we know we’re not perfect; we know we’re loved.
And when we know these things about ourselves, we tend to be gentler with ourselves, more compassionate with other people, and a whole lot freer with our love. That’s what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, an apostle of the Good News, and a saint in God's church.
.
1-5-23 - Affirmation
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We could name the "movements" in Jesus' baptism: Assent, Immersion, Emergence, Anointing, and then Affirmation. Something extraordinary occurs when Jesus comes up from that river - not only does the Spirit of God descend upon him in a visible form, there is an auditory phenomenon as well:
And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
Here we see all three persons in the One Triune God participating in the launch of Jesus’ mission on earth: the Spirit, the Father, and the one whom the Father claims as Son. When early church thinkers were working out theological implications of the Good News, scriptural passages like this helped to inform the doctrines of the Trinity and of Jesus’ nature as fully human and fully divine. Jesus, alone of humans born of woman, is called God’s Son.
That is the only part of the baptism unique to him. The pattern in Jesus’ baptism, Assent, Immersion, Emergence, Anointing and Affirmation, is true for us as well, if more internalized. We, or someone acting on our behalf, offer assent to the Story into which we are baptized. We undergo the dying and rising symbolically, in our interaction with the water, whether it’s actual immersion or not. We receive the anointing with oil of chrism, and the affirmation of belovedness. We are adopted as members of God’s household through our spiritual bond with the Son. And we receive God’s eternal “yes," claimed as beloved forever.
When have you heard God's "yes" spoken into you? Sometimes it comes through human agents, sometimes we feel it directly, inside. Remember those moments of spiritual affirmation, of being loved by your Creator for who you are. Recall them in moments when faith seems difficult, or you can’t see your way forward. More than any other message I have ever received in prayer I have heard God say, “I love you. Rest in my love.” Those are prayer times I can return to, remember, reclaim.
Let's note that the Father’s naming and claiming Jesus as his own, "the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased," comes before Jesus has actually “done” anything. His first thirty years appear to have been spent with his family, sharing his earthly father’s carpentry craft. His public ministry is still to come – and yet already, the Father proclaims himself “Well pleased.” All Jesus has done so far is show up.
I hope and pray we can remember this ourselves in moments when we feel inadequate or less than lovable – God loves us just as we show up and offer ourselves for relationship. There is nothing we can or need to do to earn that love – God already loves us “the most.” As we are able to accept that, we are able to show that kind of love to ourselves, and to one another, and beyond. What the world needs now...
We could name the "movements" in Jesus' baptism: Assent, Immersion, Emergence, Anointing, and then Affirmation. Something extraordinary occurs when Jesus comes up from that river - not only does the Spirit of God descend upon him in a visible form, there is an auditory phenomenon as well:
And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
Here we see all three persons in the One Triune God participating in the launch of Jesus’ mission on earth: the Spirit, the Father, and the one whom the Father claims as Son. When early church thinkers were working out theological implications of the Good News, scriptural passages like this helped to inform the doctrines of the Trinity and of Jesus’ nature as fully human and fully divine. Jesus, alone of humans born of woman, is called God’s Son.
That is the only part of the baptism unique to him. The pattern in Jesus’ baptism, Assent, Immersion, Emergence, Anointing and Affirmation, is true for us as well, if more internalized. We, or someone acting on our behalf, offer assent to the Story into which we are baptized. We undergo the dying and rising symbolically, in our interaction with the water, whether it’s actual immersion or not. We receive the anointing with oil of chrism, and the affirmation of belovedness. We are adopted as members of God’s household through our spiritual bond with the Son. And we receive God’s eternal “yes," claimed as beloved forever.
When have you heard God's "yes" spoken into you? Sometimes it comes through human agents, sometimes we feel it directly, inside. Remember those moments of spiritual affirmation, of being loved by your Creator for who you are. Recall them in moments when faith seems difficult, or you can’t see your way forward. More than any other message I have ever received in prayer I have heard God say, “I love you. Rest in my love.” Those are prayer times I can return to, remember, reclaim.
Let's note that the Father’s naming and claiming Jesus as his own, "the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased," comes before Jesus has actually “done” anything. His first thirty years appear to have been spent with his family, sharing his earthly father’s carpentry craft. His public ministry is still to come – and yet already, the Father proclaims himself “Well pleased.” All Jesus has done so far is show up.
I hope and pray we can remember this ourselves in moments when we feel inadequate or less than lovable – God loves us just as we show up and offer ourselves for relationship. There is nothing we can or need to do to earn that love – God already loves us “the most.” As we are able to accept that, we are able to show that kind of love to ourselves, and to one another, and beyond. What the world needs now...
1-4-23 - Anointing
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.
Nothing like being dive-bombed by the Holy Spirit! Of course, it only says the Spirit of God descended like a dove… But the literal-minded imagine a bird landing on Jesus’ head, a comical image that might obscure the power of what gospel writers describe here: the moment when the Spirit of God, present at Jesus’ conception, fully indwells him. This is when Jesus moves fully into his identity as the Christ, “the Anointed One.” (“Christ” is from the same Greek word for oil, or ointment, from which we get “chrism.”) This is the moment when his public ministry begins, when he takes up his mission of transformation and redemption.
We receive the Spirit at baptism as well. We are baptized in water and by invocation of the three-fold name of God, and then we are anointed with oil, signed with a cross on our foreheads. That oil signifies the Holy Spirit. In some early east Syrian baptismal rites, the oil was as important as the water, or more, so crucial was it to convey the power of the Spirit to be released in the newly baptized.
The gift of the Holy Spirit is often our most neglected, like a punch bowl gathering dust in the cupboard, or the wedding china left in the buffet except for “special occasions.” Yet St. Paul calls this gift of the Spirit a down-payment on our inheritance that we can access now. He writes to the Ephesians, “When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.”
In essence, we have a huge inheritance in the bank, which will never run out. At baptism we receive the card and the pin number. We can leave it sitting there – or we can use it to bring spiritual power to bear on all kinds of pain and brokenness and stuckness we encounter in ourselves and others. Among the gifts Paul cites are insight, hope and spiritual power, which we can exercise now.
Are you aware of the presence of the Spirit in you and around you? When do you access that power? Sometimes we can simply invite the Spirit to make him/herself known (the Spirit has no gender… but is not an “it.”)
Today you might sit quietly for a time, get comfortable, both feet on the floor, spine straight but relaxed, and pray, “Come, Holy Spirit. Fill me. Let me know you’re here.” And wait, with attention.
Or, if you’re confronted with a tense or challenging situation, invoke the Spirit into it, praying silently, “Guide me, give me the right words, protect me…,” whatever seems right. Think how engaged our churches can be in our communities when we all exercise the gift of the Spirit!
We aren’t always aware of such cosmic activity at baptism – yet I believe that each time we enact that sacrament, the heavens are opened, and the Spirit of God descends and alights on us. And once the heavens are opened to us, we have lifetime access to the God of the universe. Lifetime, and beyond.
And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.
Nothing like being dive-bombed by the Holy Spirit! Of course, it only says the Spirit of God descended like a dove… But the literal-minded imagine a bird landing on Jesus’ head, a comical image that might obscure the power of what gospel writers describe here: the moment when the Spirit of God, present at Jesus’ conception, fully indwells him. This is when Jesus moves fully into his identity as the Christ, “the Anointed One.” (“Christ” is from the same Greek word for oil, or ointment, from which we get “chrism.”) This is the moment when his public ministry begins, when he takes up his mission of transformation and redemption.
We receive the Spirit at baptism as well. We are baptized in water and by invocation of the three-fold name of God, and then we are anointed with oil, signed with a cross on our foreheads. That oil signifies the Holy Spirit. In some early east Syrian baptismal rites, the oil was as important as the water, or more, so crucial was it to convey the power of the Spirit to be released in the newly baptized.
The gift of the Holy Spirit is often our most neglected, like a punch bowl gathering dust in the cupboard, or the wedding china left in the buffet except for “special occasions.” Yet St. Paul calls this gift of the Spirit a down-payment on our inheritance that we can access now. He writes to the Ephesians, “When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.”
In essence, we have a huge inheritance in the bank, which will never run out. At baptism we receive the card and the pin number. We can leave it sitting there – or we can use it to bring spiritual power to bear on all kinds of pain and brokenness and stuckness we encounter in ourselves and others. Among the gifts Paul cites are insight, hope and spiritual power, which we can exercise now.
Are you aware of the presence of the Spirit in you and around you? When do you access that power? Sometimes we can simply invite the Spirit to make him/herself known (the Spirit has no gender… but is not an “it.”)
Today you might sit quietly for a time, get comfortable, both feet on the floor, spine straight but relaxed, and pray, “Come, Holy Spirit. Fill me. Let me know you’re here.” And wait, with attention.
Or, if you’re confronted with a tense or challenging situation, invoke the Spirit into it, praying silently, “Guide me, give me the right words, protect me…,” whatever seems right. Think how engaged our churches can be in our communities when we all exercise the gift of the Spirit!
We aren’t always aware of such cosmic activity at baptism – yet I believe that each time we enact that sacrament, the heavens are opened, and the Spirit of God descends and alights on us. And once the heavens are opened to us, we have lifetime access to the God of the universe. Lifetime, and beyond.
1-3-23 - Water
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
In Robert Duvall’s great film, The Apostle, there is a scene in which Duvall’s character, a wayward evangelist fleeing an attempted murder charge, stands waist deep in a river. Slowly he sinks down and submerges himself. He’s down there awhile – we wonder if he’s coming back up. Then just as slowly he breaks through the surface. From here on he assumes a new identity and adopts a new name, “The Apostle EF.” We never quite know whether this is grace or scheming – that’s part of the power of the film. The scene infers, though, that he was baptizing himself, allowing his old identity to die and a new one to be born.
Baptism is the premiere rite of new beginnings. In the church, it has long been the entry point for life in Christ, though sometimes it comes long after faith has taken hold. One reason baptism always includes water is because Jesus was baptized in water. “Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.” Some reason that Jesus in this way sanctified all waters.
We all begin life in the water, the amniotic fluid in which we grow before birth. And, of course, water can also be a place of death – imagery which our baptismal texts emphasize as the drowning of the old self and the rising with Christ of the new, eternal soul. Christian baptismal rites emphasize both birth and death – some early baptismal fonts were designed to suggest wombs, tombs or both.
I find it a great blessing that an element we encounter numerous times each day should be the sacramental sign of our new life in Christ, for we can be constantly reminded of our status as beloved of God. Martin Luther is said to have instructed followers, “When you wash your face, remember your baptism.” I would go further and say, “When you have a bath or a shower, remember your baptism. When you go swimming or pass a puddle, or fill your coffee pot or water glass, remember your baptism.”
If you can’t remember yours, spend a little time today imagining it in prayer. What water source would you choose? A font, a pool, a beach, a water fall, a fountain?
Would you like to go into the water or have it poured over you? In your imagination, can you see those waters as healing? What do you want healed? Regenerated? Renewed?
There was a time when my prayer life consisted of meeting Jesus on a beach in my imagination – sometimes he had a fire there and we talked. More than once, he invited me to wade into the sea with him, a profound reminder of my baptism.
Wherever and whenever you were baptized, and whoever was there, remember that Jesus also was there through his Spirit, sanctifying the water in which you were born anew. That birth process takes a lifetime – and we can dip into those waters any time we want.
In Robert Duvall’s great film, The Apostle, there is a scene in which Duvall’s character, a wayward evangelist fleeing an attempted murder charge, stands waist deep in a river. Slowly he sinks down and submerges himself. He’s down there awhile – we wonder if he’s coming back up. Then just as slowly he breaks through the surface. From here on he assumes a new identity and adopts a new name, “The Apostle EF.” We never quite know whether this is grace or scheming – that’s part of the power of the film. The scene infers, though, that he was baptizing himself, allowing his old identity to die and a new one to be born.
Baptism is the premiere rite of new beginnings. In the church, it has long been the entry point for life in Christ, though sometimes it comes long after faith has taken hold. One reason baptism always includes water is because Jesus was baptized in water. “Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.” Some reason that Jesus in this way sanctified all waters.
We all begin life in the water, the amniotic fluid in which we grow before birth. And, of course, water can also be a place of death – imagery which our baptismal texts emphasize as the drowning of the old self and the rising with Christ of the new, eternal soul. Christian baptismal rites emphasize both birth and death – some early baptismal fonts were designed to suggest wombs, tombs or both.
I find it a great blessing that an element we encounter numerous times each day should be the sacramental sign of our new life in Christ, for we can be constantly reminded of our status as beloved of God. Martin Luther is said to have instructed followers, “When you wash your face, remember your baptism.” I would go further and say, “When you have a bath or a shower, remember your baptism. When you go swimming or pass a puddle, or fill your coffee pot or water glass, remember your baptism.”
If you can’t remember yours, spend a little time today imagining it in prayer. What water source would you choose? A font, a pool, a beach, a water fall, a fountain?
Would you like to go into the water or have it poured over you? In your imagination, can you see those waters as healing? What do you want healed? Regenerated? Renewed?
There was a time when my prayer life consisted of meeting Jesus on a beach in my imagination – sometimes he had a fire there and we talked. More than once, he invited me to wade into the sea with him, a profound reminder of my baptism.
Wherever and whenever you were baptized, and whoever was there, remember that Jesus also was there through his Spirit, sanctifying the water in which you were born anew. That birth process takes a lifetime – and we can dip into those waters any time we want.
1-2-23 - Submission
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This coming Sunday we explore the story of Jesus’ baptism. For many decades in the early church, Epiphany was when Jesus' birth was celebrated (Christmas didn't come around till the 4th century and did not become prevalent until the 9th), and was considered the holiest time of the year for baptisms. Baptism is where our formal life in Christ begins – and baptism is where Jesus of Nazareth formally became the Christ. Yet this momentous blessing almost didn’t occur:
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”
Maybe the evangelist Matthew was a lawyer; so often he seems to be citing precedent, marshalling supporting arguments, and anticipating objections. He alone of the Gospel writers tells us that John was uncomfortable having Jesus submit to his ritual of repentance. After all, by the time Matthew is writing, Jesus is already risen and ascended, worshiped as the sinless Son of God. Matthew is getting out in front of those who would question why Jesus should have undergone a baptism of repentance. So here John objects to what he perceives as the lesser baptizing the greater.
But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfil all righteousness.” Then he consented.
Jesus recognized that, if he was to share fully in our humanity, he needed to undergo this rite of cleansing. He willingly submits to this ritual, as later he submits to a corrupt trial and unjust sentence and hideous death. Over and over Jesus submits – and so subverts the sin and death from which he came to free us. Indeed, his Incarnation itself – God taking on the limitations of human flesh and nature, of boundedness in time and space – is submission, freely submitting in order to set others free.
Some in our churches, reacting to centuries of forced submission endured by women, people of color, enslaved and oppressed persons, would remove the language and rituals of submission from our liturgies. Though I understand the sentiment, this may be throwing out the baby with the bathwater. I suggest that the art of voluntary submission is at the heart of following Christ. It is central to the self-emptying love Jesus taught and lived. In following him, we voluntarily submit our prerogatives, our priorities, our time and resources, our wills, to the cause of self-giving love that heals and transforms the people around us. We might even say that submission is the heart of spiritual growth – learning to gradually submit ourselves to the love of God, overwhelming as that can be.
Where in your life do you submit – voluntarily, or not. (Not all submission is life-giving… yet in choosing to submit, we can often give life.)
This coming Sunday we explore the story of Jesus’ baptism. For many decades in the early church, Epiphany was when Jesus' birth was celebrated (Christmas didn't come around till the 4th century and did not become prevalent until the 9th), and was considered the holiest time of the year for baptisms. Baptism is where our formal life in Christ begins – and baptism is where Jesus of Nazareth formally became the Christ. Yet this momentous blessing almost didn’t occur:
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”
Maybe the evangelist Matthew was a lawyer; so often he seems to be citing precedent, marshalling supporting arguments, and anticipating objections. He alone of the Gospel writers tells us that John was uncomfortable having Jesus submit to his ritual of repentance. After all, by the time Matthew is writing, Jesus is already risen and ascended, worshiped as the sinless Son of God. Matthew is getting out in front of those who would question why Jesus should have undergone a baptism of repentance. So here John objects to what he perceives as the lesser baptizing the greater.
But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfil all righteousness.” Then he consented.
Jesus recognized that, if he was to share fully in our humanity, he needed to undergo this rite of cleansing. He willingly submits to this ritual, as later he submits to a corrupt trial and unjust sentence and hideous death. Over and over Jesus submits – and so subverts the sin and death from which he came to free us. Indeed, his Incarnation itself – God taking on the limitations of human flesh and nature, of boundedness in time and space – is submission, freely submitting in order to set others free.
Some in our churches, reacting to centuries of forced submission endured by women, people of color, enslaved and oppressed persons, would remove the language and rituals of submission from our liturgies. Though I understand the sentiment, this may be throwing out the baby with the bathwater. I suggest that the art of voluntary submission is at the heart of following Christ. It is central to the self-emptying love Jesus taught and lived. In following him, we voluntarily submit our prerogatives, our priorities, our time and resources, our wills, to the cause of self-giving love that heals and transforms the people around us. We might even say that submission is the heart of spiritual growth – learning to gradually submit ourselves to the love of God, overwhelming as that can be.
Where in your life do you submit – voluntarily, or not. (Not all submission is life-giving… yet in choosing to submit, we can often give life.)
And where do you sense yourself hanging on to avoid submitting? What might be asked of you? To trust more? To give more? To spend time with someone difficult? To change careers? Ask Jesus to show you where he is inviting you to submit more of yourself, your agenda, to his. How do you respond? Our “yes” sometimes takes awhile…
Jesus does not ask of us anything he has not already done – perhaps that’s why the sinless one chose to go into the water that day. It was the beginning of his taking on the burden of our repentance. It was the beginning of life for us, there in that river.
Jesus does not ask of us anything he has not already done – perhaps that’s why the sinless one chose to go into the water that day. It was the beginning of his taking on the burden of our repentance. It was the beginning of life for us, there in that river.
5-24-22 - God's Love On Board
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The great theologian Karl Barth was once asked by a reporter to sum up his life's contribution to Christian thought. This legendary intellect and author of volumes of complex theology articulating the nature of God, man, Christ, and much more, said this, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
Does it really just come down to love? Jesus said so…
The great theologian Karl Barth was once asked by a reporter to sum up his life's contribution to Christian thought. This legendary intellect and author of volumes of complex theology articulating the nature of God, man, Christ, and much more, said this, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
Does it really just come down to love? Jesus said so…
“I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
In his prayer to his heavenly Father on his last night in human form, Jesus spoke of having made known the name of God to his followers, so that God’s love, with which Jesus had been loved, would reside in them – and further, that he himself would be in them. That is what we claim happens at baptism (and may happen in other times and ways; baptism is simply a guarantor): that we are united with Christ, and his spirit dwells within us forever. Already. Now.
That means we are filled with the Father’s love too. Do you feel filled with God’s love? I confess it’s not what I’m most aware of most of the time. I’m aware of being filled with energy or anxiety, peace or hope or fury or love for another. Rarely am I conscious of being a repository of God’s love, made available to the world, through me, through you.
Yet that is arguably our most important goal in the spiritual life: to become conscious, intentional conduits of that love that made the universe into a world thirsty for it. We need to be aware of our belovedness and share that gift with others. This is old news, and yet so difficult to live into.
We don’t have to find this love and ingest it – Jesus said it is already in us, on board, because he made God’s name known to his followers. And we are their descendants, apostles ourselves. Our job is to release this love into the world around us. How will we to do that today?
In his prayer to his heavenly Father on his last night in human form, Jesus spoke of having made known the name of God to his followers, so that God’s love, with which Jesus had been loved, would reside in them – and further, that he himself would be in them. That is what we claim happens at baptism (and may happen in other times and ways; baptism is simply a guarantor): that we are united with Christ, and his spirit dwells within us forever. Already. Now.
That means we are filled with the Father’s love too. Do you feel filled with God’s love? I confess it’s not what I’m most aware of most of the time. I’m aware of being filled with energy or anxiety, peace or hope or fury or love for another. Rarely am I conscious of being a repository of God’s love, made available to the world, through me, through you.
Yet that is arguably our most important goal in the spiritual life: to become conscious, intentional conduits of that love that made the universe into a world thirsty for it. We need to be aware of our belovedness and share that gift with others. This is old news, and yet so difficult to live into.
We don’t have to find this love and ingest it – Jesus said it is already in us, on board, because he made God’s name known to his followers. And we are their descendants, apostles ourselves. Our job is to release this love into the world around us. How will we to do that today?
1-6-22 - Empowered
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When John the Baptist was asked if he was the Messiah, or Elijah returned, he demurred:
“I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
Baptism in water is only the visible part of the gift. It is our unseen baptism in the Holy Spirit that changes everything. Too often churches neglect this greatest of all gifts, so dazzled by the play of water we don’t notice the fire at work. But fire is promised, and the Spirit is given to us, just as Jesus was anointed by the Spirit in his baptism.
The question is, What happens to that gift if we never use it, if we leave it wrapped up in a closet somewhere? I don’t believe the Spirit leaves us, but neither will the Spirit make his presence felt if we don’t invite her and exercise her gifts. Most of us have the ability to run a marathon, but unless we train and exercise, we lack the capacity. Similarly, many Christians leave the gifts of the Spirit unexercised. Then, when we’re confronted by what feels like a big prayer, a big need for healing or peace or reconciliation, we feel daunted and lacking in power.
Well, guess what? We have the power! We are given the power at baptism and it is confirmed in us at confirmation (that’s what “confirmed” means – confirmare,to strengthen). The power that made the universe and raised Christ from the dead lives in us. Will we exercise it or leave it on the shelf?
Like the other gifts of baptism we’re exploring this week – adoption, forgiveness, inclusion, belovedness – the gift of the Spirit’s power gets stronger when we remind each other it’s there. We can build our power-paks is by asking for prayer more often. I know people who always say, “I’m fine,” when asked how they might be prayed for. That denies the Christians around that person the chance to exercise their spiritual gifts. Don’t say, “No thank you.” Tell people where in your life you’d like to see God’s power and love manifest. Don’t hold back or just ask for easy things. Be bold in prayer.
When you ask another person to pray for you, you’re more likely to pray for them. When we have a whole community exercising its faith in prayer, we get an empowered church, and nothing can stand in its way. On this day when we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, the showing forth of God's revelation, let’s celebrate the unseen gifts of baptism and make Christ known in the way we display his power and love.
When John the Baptist was asked if he was the Messiah, or Elijah returned, he demurred:
“I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
Baptism in water is only the visible part of the gift. It is our unseen baptism in the Holy Spirit that changes everything. Too often churches neglect this greatest of all gifts, so dazzled by the play of water we don’t notice the fire at work. But fire is promised, and the Spirit is given to us, just as Jesus was anointed by the Spirit in his baptism.
The question is, What happens to that gift if we never use it, if we leave it wrapped up in a closet somewhere? I don’t believe the Spirit leaves us, but neither will the Spirit make his presence felt if we don’t invite her and exercise her gifts. Most of us have the ability to run a marathon, but unless we train and exercise, we lack the capacity. Similarly, many Christians leave the gifts of the Spirit unexercised. Then, when we’re confronted by what feels like a big prayer, a big need for healing or peace or reconciliation, we feel daunted and lacking in power.
Well, guess what? We have the power! We are given the power at baptism and it is confirmed in us at confirmation (that’s what “confirmed” means – confirmare,to strengthen). The power that made the universe and raised Christ from the dead lives in us. Will we exercise it or leave it on the shelf?
Like the other gifts of baptism we’re exploring this week – adoption, forgiveness, inclusion, belovedness – the gift of the Spirit’s power gets stronger when we remind each other it’s there. We can build our power-paks is by asking for prayer more often. I know people who always say, “I’m fine,” when asked how they might be prayed for. That denies the Christians around that person the chance to exercise their spiritual gifts. Don’t say, “No thank you.” Tell people where in your life you’d like to see God’s power and love manifest. Don’t hold back or just ask for easy things. Be bold in prayer.
When you ask another person to pray for you, you’re more likely to pray for them. When we have a whole community exercising its faith in prayer, we get an empowered church, and nothing can stand in its way. On this day when we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, the showing forth of God's revelation, let’s celebrate the unseen gifts of baptism and make Christ known in the way we display his power and love.
1-5-22 - Welcomed
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Our world is in the midst of a protracted refugees crisis, with some 26.6 million refugees as of mid-2021. The U.S. continues to see unaccompanied minors on our southern border, and to contend with violence against immigrants. Jesus’ call to welcome the stranger is hotly debated, even among those who claim to follow him.
Spiritually speaking, we are all refugees, people who have been welcomed into what Jesus called the Kingdom of God, a realm wholly separate from the realm of this world but accessible from anywhere. And the rite by which our welcome is sealed is baptism. In baptism, we are given a passport and all the rights of citizenship – insight, hope, and power beyond comprehension. There are no second-class citizens or resident aliens in the Realm of God. All have equal rights and equal status – and equal responsibility.
The reason that we, our holiness imperfect at best, can be welcomed into the Realm of God where holiness reigns, is that Jesus brought his perfect holiness into the realm of this world. In that sense, he too was a refugee from another place, needing to acquire the language and customs of an alien land. His baptism in the Jordan River was a sign of his taking on this world, submerging himself in human reality, including the reality of death.
And, as we know from the story the Gospels tell, Jesus was about as welcome as many refugees are in today’s world. The clash of values, and the discomfort both his poverty and his power caused, led ultimately to his death. Yet in that death and his rising again he opened the way for us to be welcomed into God-Life.
How does it challenge you spiritually to think of yourself as a refugee welcomed into the Realm of God? What new customs and language and ways of relating to others do you need to learn in order to thrive in this land? What support groups might you join to ease your assimilation into this Life? And how might you help others assimilate?
As we explore the gifts of baptism this week, let’s remember our dual citizenship and seek to become ever more comfortable in that land where there is no death. And let’s reach out our hands to offer Life to those seeking to join us.
Tonight I begin a new bible study on the Gospel of John - please join me 7-8 pm EST on Zoom.
Our world is in the midst of a protracted refugees crisis, with some 26.6 million refugees as of mid-2021. The U.S. continues to see unaccompanied minors on our southern border, and to contend with violence against immigrants. Jesus’ call to welcome the stranger is hotly debated, even among those who claim to follow him.
Spiritually speaking, we are all refugees, people who have been welcomed into what Jesus called the Kingdom of God, a realm wholly separate from the realm of this world but accessible from anywhere. And the rite by which our welcome is sealed is baptism. In baptism, we are given a passport and all the rights of citizenship – insight, hope, and power beyond comprehension. There are no second-class citizens or resident aliens in the Realm of God. All have equal rights and equal status – and equal responsibility.
The reason that we, our holiness imperfect at best, can be welcomed into the Realm of God where holiness reigns, is that Jesus brought his perfect holiness into the realm of this world. In that sense, he too was a refugee from another place, needing to acquire the language and customs of an alien land. His baptism in the Jordan River was a sign of his taking on this world, submerging himself in human reality, including the reality of death.
And, as we know from the story the Gospels tell, Jesus was about as welcome as many refugees are in today’s world. The clash of values, and the discomfort both his poverty and his power caused, led ultimately to his death. Yet in that death and his rising again he opened the way for us to be welcomed into God-Life.
How does it challenge you spiritually to think of yourself as a refugee welcomed into the Realm of God? What new customs and language and ways of relating to others do you need to learn in order to thrive in this land? What support groups might you join to ease your assimilation into this Life? And how might you help others assimilate?
As we explore the gifts of baptism this week, let’s remember our dual citizenship and seek to become ever more comfortable in that land where there is no death. And let’s reach out our hands to offer Life to those seeking to join us.
Tonight I begin a new bible study on the Gospel of John - please join me 7-8 pm EST on Zoom.
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