First Sunday after Epiphany--baptismal letter

A letter to Alexandria Marie Denley upon the occasion of her baptism.
Dear Alex,
Today is an important and exciting day in your life and in your life of faith. Today you are baptized into Christ’s body which means that you will be a new creation, a new Alex. You will have new brothers and sisters in this church and in all baptized people who promise to walk with you and to help you in this new journey. You will make promises about how you will try to live your life, modeling your actions, your choices, your words upon the teachings of Jesus, who taught that we must love everyone, be kind to everyone, and especially help those who are poor, elderly, and sick. You will teach us things, and we will teach you things, and we will all be better off because we are in this thing together.
You have already taught me something, and I want to share it with you and these people here today. When we met a few weeks ago to talk about your baptism, there was a lot going on around us. I was distracted, you were probably a little restless, your parents were distracted because you were restless. We were there meeting together because it was important, because it was what we were supposed to be doing, because it was something that we had promised to do…a part of our responsibility, a part of our duty.
But do you remember what happened toward the end of our time together? It is something that I will never forget! I asked you if you wanted to hear the story about Jesus, this story into which you are being baptized this day, and you said yes.
I told you the story—how he was born, how he was baptized and proclaimed as God’s beloved son, how he lived his life: preaching, teaching, healing; how he showed people the way to God and taught us that it’s important to love each other and to help each other. I told you how he had a group of friends and they would eat together, and I told you about the special meal, their last meal that they had the night before Jesus died, and about how we remember and share in that meal together every Sunday.
And then I told you about how he died, nailed to a cross, and I will never forget how so very still you became, looking at me with big, round eyes.
I told you how his friends were so very heartbroken, and they buried him, rolling a big, heavy stone in front of the opening of his tomb. And then they came back later to do the burial rites, and guess what they found! The stone had been moved, the tomb was empty, and there was a messenger there who told his friends, “He is not here! He is risen!”
“ ‘He is risen?’” You said. “What on earth does that mean?”
That’s exactly what they said! I told you. It means that God’s love is stronger than anything, even death, and that we can live our lives in the freedom that gives us, that even when we die, it is not the end, but just another part of our journey back to God. And I finished the story, telling you how Jesus was there with them again until he was taken up to heaven and how he sent the Holy Spirit, to whisper in their hearts, to be present with them and to help them. And they spent the rest of their lives telling people the amazing thing that had happened to them, and that is what we are supposed to do too.
Do you remember how the four of us sat there in silence for several minutes, in wonder of the holiness of what we had experienced together?
That time with you taught me and helped me to remember that sometimes when we offer love because it is what we are supposed to do, because it is our duty, our responsibility as Christians, what we have promised to do in our baptism, then God takes that duty, that love that we offer, and God transforms it—like the bread and the wine—so that it becomes so much richer, fuller, broader, greater than a love that is born from duty. It becomes a brush with Mystery; pure grace; it becomes one brief glimpse of the face of God.
And so this day, when you make your baptismal vows, your promises to God, and on every day in the future when you renew them, may you remember that you are God’s beloved child, and you are marked as Christ’s own forever. May you remember that you need not be afraid of anything because God’s love is stronger than anything, even death. May you remember that you have been given the gift of the Holy Spirit, which will help you pray and will whisper in your heart and help you know what to do and even give you strength and courage. May you remember, during those times in your life, when darkness weighs upon you like a tomb, that the light of Christ, our Savior who is the light of the world, shines within you and will light your way in the dark.
May you remember that every time that you lift your shining face to God with your hands outstretched to receive the bread and the wine, that you are being fed the body and blood of Jesus who loves you, so you may go out into the world to share that love with others. May you delight in doing your duty, and may the God who loves you as God’s own child transform your duty into a love through which you see the face of God.
Your sister in Christ,
Melanie+