Can I Be Baptized?

Can I be baptized?

In an age where many people are not baptized as infants, I receive this question often from adults who have not been baptized. Some hesitance in the asking of this question usually involves follow-up questions such as: What if I don’t think I am ready to be baptized? What if I am not good enough or educated enough?

Our Holy Scriptures give us, especially in the Book of Acts, examples of baptisms in the early Church. In no instance is someone told to wait on being baptized because they aren’t ready or they aren’t good enough or they don’t have a seminary education to explain the theology of baptism. In all instances, baptism is presented in the Book of Acts as a gift, a gift of the Holy Spirit that propels us to do the work of Jesus in the world.

Beginning on Monday, January 16, St. Alban’s will enter into a 5 week exploration of the Book of Acts. You will have 3 opportunities each week to attend a session. These sessions will be augmented by Adult & Youth Sunday School each week.

I invite you to enter into the fullness of your baptism by exploring the Book of Acts. I invite you to discover that you are never ready enough or smart enough or good enough to receive the free gift of God’s Holy Spirit.

Group Project

Sermon from September 4, 2011
(Pentecost 12 – Year A)
Matthew 18: 15-20
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

When I was a boy in school, I really did love school work.
I was eager to learn and diligent in doing my homework.
I got especially energized by school projects.
I enjoyed delivering book reports about Tom Sawyer or about the life of Thomas Jefferson.
In science, I remember a project on the respiratory system where I used two plastic baggies to simulate the work of human lungs.
In social studies, I used scrap plywood to construct a map of Washington, DC, using blue paint for water and green paint for land.
I really liked it when my teacher would exclaim:
“Class, I have a wonderful project for you to work on all by yourself!”

Yet I did not like it when my teacher would proclaim:
“I have a very special project for you to work on.
And this project - is to be a group project!”

At the mention of a group project, the classroom would erupt in with squeals of delight.
Yet I remained stoic and skeptical.

Now I hope that by now you know that I do love people.
But I did not like working on group school projects.

In group school projects, I always felt like I ended up doing the majority of the work - without getting the majority of the credit.
Invariably, there was kid in my group who figured out that he could just coast by and do nothing.
Invariably, there was kid in my group who thought that her ideas were better than mine.
In the midst of those group projects, in my mind, I wanted to kick out the non-productive kid.
I wanted to kick out the bossy kid.
I wanted to kick out the kid who got on my nerves.
I just did not like group school projects.

Yet living in Christian community is much like a group school project.
And Jesus teaches us how to handle when we have a problem with someone in our group.

Jesus says that if we have a problem with someone,
Before kicking them out, we should have a one-on-one conversation with them.

Then if that doesn’t work, bring others into the conversation.
And if that doesn’t work, then bring the whole classroom into the conversation.

Since I am a person who enjoys clear directions on projects, I am really liking Jesus’ methodical and clear cut ways of dealing with conflict.
As I listen to Jesus’ directions, I am just itching for a good reason for the ax to fall and to get rid of the problem children.

Yet Jesus then gets a big grin on his face.
He looks into the self-righteous eyes of his students, students who are looking for an honorable way to get rid of people.
And Jesus says:
“If all of those steps do not work, then treat the other kids in your group as Gentiles and tax collectors.”

My heart sinks.
For how does Jesus treat lazy Gentiles and know-it-all tax collectors?
Jesus does the exact opposite of kicking out the Gentiles and tax collectors.
Instead, Jesus treats Gentiles and tax collectors with extra grace and extra care.

So now it sounds like I must learn to work on the group science project with the girl who smacks her bubble gum and twists her hair.
And it sounds like I must learn to work with the boy who is dyslexic and has trouble reading the textbook.
It sounds like I must learn to work together on the group project of the Christian journey – instead of kicking anyone out.
It sounds like we are stuck with each other.

Our concept of church is different than the concept of the Christian community in the first century.
We tend to think of church as an activity on Sundays, maybe with some worship and education during the week in the St. Alban’s community.
In this 21st century, we have the option of keeping our church relationships and our everyday relationships separate.

However, church in the first century was not separate from the community that you lived in.
In the early days, church was where you cooked together, prayed together, worked in the fields together, shared wine over dinner together and blew out the candles at the end of a long day together.
Most likely, the church community that the writer of the Gospel of Matthew was addressing was more like a group school project on steroids.

And Jesus says to this faith community:
“To those who offend you, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.
To those who offend you, show them extra grace and extra care.
For truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in eternity.”

We are bound to each other on earth.
We are stuck with each other for eternity.

Today we are baptizing James Lane Hughes.
We are binding another person into our faith community, a person whom we will give extra grace and care to.

And Jamie is being assigned a group project.
In this group project of love, Jamie is to work with us to love God and to love his neighbors.
Jamie is making a covenant.
And we are making a covenant.
This baptismal covenant will bind him to us and will bind us to him, on this earth and into eternity.
Jamie doesn’t know it yet, but he is stuck with us.

And as Jamie grows up, he will learn how to walk the Christian journey, yet not as his own private project.
Instead Jamie will walk the Christian journey together with us, as a group.

Because when we get tired of each other and disputes get heated, we have bound ourselves to Jesus and to each other.
When we get on each other’s nerves, we have promised to treat each other as Gentiles and tax collectors.
We have promised to show extra grace and care to each other, in God’s grand group project of love.

I would imagine that there are people in your life whom you might like to kick out of your group project:
The lazy co-worker who always comes in late to work and who always leaves work 15 minutes early.
The strange cousin who overstays his welcome and never says thank you for anything.
The old friend who is always asking to borrow money from you and yet who never repays a dime.

And Jesus says that if a brother or sister offends you, then have a conversation.
And if that doesn’t work, don’t kick them out, but treat them as a Gentile or a tax collector, with extra grace and love.

You see, the Christian faith and life is not lived and practiced as our own individual project.
In our Baptism, we are bound together.
We are stuck with each other.

For Jesus, our teacher, does not say:
“I have a wonderful project for you to work on all by yourself!”

But Jesus proclaims:
“I have a special project for you to work on.
And this project - is a group project.”

AMEN.

They are Israelites...

People will ask me on occasion: What should Christians think about people who are Jewish? In his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul answers this question directly in the 9th chapter, from which we read last Sunday in our worship.

About those who are born as Jews, Paul writes this: “They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen. (9:4-5)”

Jesus was and is Jewish. And the Jewish people are God’s chosen people, forever. The good news of Jesus Christ is that God opens up to all people the power to become God’s chosen people.

I was not born into a Jewish family. Yet through my baptism into the family of Jesus, I am now one of God’s chosen people, as well! To all of us who are baptized into God’s family, now to us, also, belongs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises. God blessed forever. Amen!

Change

Written on the back of the worship leaflet for Sunday, January 16, 2011:

Change. The word that strikes fear into the hearts of so many of us, especially in the church. People will sometimes chuckle at jokes about how people in the church are resistant to change. I no longer find those jokes to be funny because I have found that people and churches and organizations who refuse to change are refusing to grow and live the abundant life that God calls us to. Adamant resistance to change is the hammer that nails us into our coffins of fear and sameness and death.

I no longer find “jokes” about change to be funny because my reading of Holy Scripture shows me that change and transformation are absolutely at the core of the message that Jesus preaches! The first followers of Jesus, whom we hear about in today’s reading from the Gospel of John, embrace change. The church was born, not in fear of change, but out of a full embrace of the transformation of lives!

Today is a day of huge change at St. Alban’s; we are offering a new weekly worship service here at 5:00 PM each and every Sunday. Today is the day when we refuse to laugh at jokes about our fear of change, as we give the gift of worship to more and more people in our city. Today is the day when we are transformed! Today, I love change!

Beloved

Sermon from January 9, 2011
(Epiphany 1 – Year A)
Matthew 3: 13-17
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

The first movie I ever saw in my life in a movie theater was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
I must have been about three or four years old when I first saw Snow White.
Snow White is the story of a beautiful woman who takes refuge in a tiny little cabin with seven little dwarfs.
The names of the seven dwarfs are:
Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey, Doc, Happy, Grumpy, and Bashful.
And the names of each of the seven dwarfs correlate with what each of the dwarfs do.
Sneezy is always sneezing all the time.
Sleepy can never keep his eyes open.
And Grumpy is scowling in the corner.

People and characters are often named because of what they do.

My mother went to an all-girls school for high school.
At this all-girls school, my mother, whose real name is Nancy, was given a nickname.
At school, my mother was named Peppy, because it was descriptive of the girl who was the ringleader for most of the fun and lively shenanigans on campus.
For many, many years, my mother went by Peppy, until finally, as a young married woman, she retook her given name of Nancy back.

What we name ourselves – and what others name us – has a lot to do with how we are perceived by others and how we think of ourselves.

At the very beginning of his earthly ministry, Jesus goes to the Jordan River to be baptized by John the Baptist.
After Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan, the heavens are opened, the Spirit of God descends on Jesus, and a voice from heaven says:
“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

At the very beginning of his earthly ministry, Jesus receives a name, a name that describes who Jesus is – and not what Jesus does.
Jesus receives a name, as the voice from heaven says:
“This is my Son, the Beloved.”

The voice from heaven, if you notice, does not give Jesus a name that describes what he does.
The voice from heaven does not say:
This is my Son, the Teacher or the Healer.
No, instead, the voice from heaven proclaims:
“This is my Beloved.”

Because at the very beginning, at the foundation, we are loved for who we are, rather than what we do.

Today, we are baptizing Victoria Margaret Davis.
Victoria will be baptized in water just as Jesus was.
Victoria will be united with Christ in his death, so that she will be united with Christ in his resurrection.
And in her baptism, Victoria will receive a name.

Certainly, she will be named by her parents as Victoria Margaret.
Yet I also believe that a voice will come from heaven, giving her a different name.

The voice from heaven will name her, saying:
“This is my daughter, the Beloved, in whom I am well-pleased.”
At the very beginning of her earthly ministry, Victoria is named for who she is, as God’s beloved child, long before she has a chance to be named something else based on what she does.
Because long before Victoria goes off to school and the kids on the playground give her a nickname,
She is named Beloved.
Long before she brings boys home and her father, Jesse, cross-examines them,
She is named Beloved.
Long before she messes up and falls short of the glory of God,
She is named Beloved.

Because at the very beginning, at the foundation, we are loved by God for who we are, rather than what we do.

When I was in my mid-30s, I read a book that had a huge impact on my life.
The book is called “The Return of the Prodigal Son” and it is written by Henri Nouwen.
Henri Nouwen was a Roman Catholic priest who died in 1996.
In this book, Nouwen meditates on a Rembrandt painting of the Return of the Prodigal Son.

The Return of the Prodigal Son is a story that is told by Jesus in the Gospel of Luke.
It is a story about two different sons.
The younger son goes away and lives a foolish life, squandering all of his father’s inheritance.
The younger son therefore receives the nicknames:
“Bad Boy” and “Irresponsible.”

The older son, instead, stays at home with his father to manage the family business.
The older son receives the nicknames:
“Good Boy” and “Dutiful.”

Yet, when the younger son returns home repentant into his father’s embrace, both sons have an epiphany.
The two boys then realize that their Father does not care so much about what his sons do.

Instead they realize that their father loves both of his boys equally,
Because their father has given each of them a name.
The father has named both of his sons:
Beloved.

I suppose that the book “The Return of the Prodigal Son” has spoken to me so deeply, because the words of Henri Nouwen call me to hear the voice of my heavenly Father, calling me his beloved son.
You see, when I first read this book, I had believed that I was named:
“Conservative Accountant” and “Suburban Dad” and “Fearful of Change.”
Yet, in my own life since that time, I have constantly tried to reorient my thinking and my heart, to hear the father’s voice from heaven telling me that I am loved, not because of what I do, but because of who I am as God’s son.

And for me, when I try to experience times of silent prayer, I try to not get caught up in the mechanics of ‘doing prayer’ –
But instead, in prayer, I try to simply ‘be’ –
To simply rest in God’s presence, to simply listen for God’s voice, calling me his beloved.
For prayer can be as simple as recalling the voice of your Father that was spoken at your baptism, saying,
“This is my son, this is my daughter, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Therefore, your name is not based on what you do,
But your name is based on whose you are.

Your name is not Grumpy or Sleepy or Dopey or Peppy.
Your name is not Lazy or Stupid or Messy or Drunk.
Your name is not even Skinny or Smart or Stylish or Successful.

Your name…is Beloved.

AMEN.

I Believe I Am So Called

I believe I am so called.

These words are the first words that are uttered by someone who is being ordained as a deacon or as a priest when they are being examined by the bishop. The bishop asks the person who is entering ordained ministry: “My sister/brother, do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church?” And the answer, firmly and resolutely, is: “I believe I am so called.”

Last week, 32 people from St. Alban’s traveled to Christ Church Cathedral in Houston to witness the Ordination of Deacons. We gathered in that historic and beautiful church, with its dark wood and stained glass windows, to see 12 men and women kneel before the Bishop of Texas to be ordained. The bishop asked them: “My brothers and sisters, do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church?” And the answer rang out through that cathedral: “I believe I am so called.”

In The Book of Common Prayer that the Episcopal Church uses, the question is asked (on page 855, a rarely viewed page): “Who are the ministers of the Church?” And the answer is: “The ministers of the Church are lay persons, bishops, priests and deacons.” The first category listed is the people who are the most numerous: lay persons. Sometimes I think that our focus on the ordained ministers of the Church diverts our attention away from the largest number of those who believe they are so called, the lay persons.

I wish that we had a service of Ordination for lay persons. But wait; we do. We call it: Baptism. Yet I wish that at Baptisms, and at several other times in our spiritual journey, that we had an opportunity to hear:

Do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to take the food basket to Caritas? I believe I am so called. Do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to work with the Youth Group? I believe I am so called. Do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to go visit the homebound/at-home parishioners on Sunday afternoon? I believe I am so called. Do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to wash the windows in the Parish Hall? I believe I am so called.

The lay people of St. Alban’s (which is everyone minus two people, me and Jimmy) have been truly called by God and his Church through Baptism to do the work of mission and ministry. Pray about what that ministry looks like, so that you may answer:

I believe I am so called.