The First Sunday in Lent Year A

Lent 1A_2020 March 1, 2020 “Trust God. Trust the process.” This was the advice given to me by a priestly mentor when I had just learned that I was going to be put on hold in the ordination process for an entire year. “Trust God. Trust the process.” I clung to these words like a mantra, and whenever I would feel myself growing anxious about the future, I would repeat them to myself: “Trust God. Trust the process.” I’ve been thinking about trust lately—what it means to trust God and to trust other people, how we build trust and how that impacts our relationships. A colleague recommended a book that I’ve been reading titled The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work by Dr. John M. Gottman. Gottman has spent years doing research in a scientific study of different couples, and as a result of this, he has identified 7 principles for making marriage work. (I’m only on principle #3, but so far, it all seems to be reflective of what I know from my own marriage and of walking with others in pre-marital counseling and in times of crisis.) I was struck, this week, by #3, because it is, essentially, how we build or break trust in a relationship. Principle #3 states: “Turn toward each other instead of turning away.” It seems so simple, right? But Gottman details how often couples miss the cues from one another when they are asking for attention or seeking help. When a member of the couple turns toward the other as a result of such a bid or request, then trust is built, but when the bid is missed, and the other member turns away, then trust is fractured. Gottman writes that bids are usually missed for one of two reasons: 1. The bid is wrapped in anger or some other negative emotion or 2. The one who should be receiving the bid is distracted—most often by the wired world. There’s much more to the chapter about how to address these issues, but it’s important for our purposes to remember that trust is strengthened when we turn toward, and trust is fractured when we turn away. On this First Sunday in Lent, our Old Testament and Gospel readings both focus on trust, but they are widely different in their results. The first, the Genesis story, is the story of what happens when we turn away, and the second, the story of Jesus’s temptations in the wilderness from Matthew’s gospel, is the story of what happens when we turn toward. In the Genesis reading, Adam and Eve have been given a pretty clear job to do. They have been placed in the garden to “till it and keep it,” and they have been given minimal boundaries about what they can and cannot eat: “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.” (In hindsight, it seems like a pretty clear bid from God. If you just avoid this one tree, then you will turn toward me in trust and our relationship will strengthen.) But they become distracted by the questions of the serpent. Through the way he asks the questions, the serpent actually sets up God as a rival to Adam and Eve, and when they turn away from God’s bid, then they break the trust and face the consequences. In our gospel reading for today, Jesus faces the same dilemma. He is offered three temptations by the devil in the wilderness, and each one of these is an attempt to get Jesus to turn away from trusting God and to see God as a rival. Jesus, who is still dripping from the waters of his baptism and with his ears still ringing with God’s naming him as God’s beloved son, continues to turn toward God rather than turning away from God. And in this way, Jesus remains steadfastly God’s—the very essence and definition of trust. So, what does all this have to do with us? Lent is a season of self-reflection and penitence; it is a time to examine the ways in which we have turned away from trusting God, seeing how we have been tempted to view God as a rival to our own ambitions and selfishness. God’s bid has always been and continues to be that we love the Lord our God with all our heart and mind and strength and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Your invitation this week is to pay attention to the ways that God’s bid shows up in our lives on a daily basis, and to honestly assess in our decisions and actions, if we are turning toward God in trust or away from God. At the end of each day, reflect on the day, and in hindsight, consider the bids of God that you missed throughout your day because you weren’t paying attention or because you misunderstood the invitation. Reflect on the ways that God’s clear instruction to love God and to love your neighbor are at odds, almost set as a rival to your own desires and ambitions. And remember and give thanks for those times when you accepted God’s offer of love in your life that day.

Last Sunday after the Epiphany Year A

The Last Sunday after the Epiphany_Year A February 23, 2020 One of the consistent surprises for me in parish ministry is that sometimes there are seasons when I come into my office and discover things that you have left for me on my desk. Often they are things that you like that you think I would like too, so you offer them to read or listen to or sample. Sometimes they are notes from you. Sometimes they are what I like to call “happies,” thoughtful little gifts that you leave. All of these surprises bring light and joy to my life by their thoughtfulness. In the past couple of weeks, I have received a number of these surprises from you. Someone left me a copy of this month’s O Magazine. (Whoever you are, I can’t help but wonder if you intentionally didn’t sign the card lest you end up in a sermon? But thank you for seeking to help you priest avoid further petty larceny!) I also received a lovely scarf depicting stain glass windows from the National Cathedral along with a chocolate bar and a note from the giver encouraging me to continue to keep my light shining. It helped me to realize that is the effect for me of all of these surprises, these notes, these gifts; they are gifts of encouragement to me from you saying that you recognize the light in me, you give thanks for it, and you give me bits of yourself to strengthen me to shine on even in the darkest of times. This week, I learned that there is a Hebrew word that gets to the heart of some of this. It is Shekhinah, and it describes “a light that reveals God’s glory (or God’s presence?) in someone;” Or as a colleague of mine referred to it, “The dazzle.” We see the shikhinah or “the dazzle” of the glory of God at work in our Old Testament reading and our gospel reading for today—fitting readings for us on this last Sunday in Epiphany, the season of light and dazzle. Jesus takes three of his disciples up onto the mountain, and there they witness his be-dazzlement, his transfiguration. They see the shikhinah—the glory of God as revealed in and through Jesus and they hear the voice of God affirming Jesus in his ministry. In the face of this light, all four of them are changed, refreshed and renewed, and the disciples are afraid and confused and unsure of what to make of it all until Jesus tells them not to be afraid. Sometimes when the light of the glory of God shines through a person it is truly a fearsome and wondrous thing. What you all do for me is what we are all called to do for each other as a Christian community and beyond. We are called to recognize the glory of God when it shines forth in the other, to hold up a mirror to them to show them their bedazzlement, and to encourage them to shine on. It’s the heart of why we come to worship week after week; we show up longing to be dazzled, to see and taste and hear and smell the presence of God in our worship and in each other and in ourselves. But in order to do this well, we must create space for it. We must be willing to come apart to a deserted place. We must be willing to be still and silent and present and wait for the Lord’s glory to be revealed. We must be opened to being dazzled by each other. A couple of weeks ago, a parishioner left me a note on my desk that shared with me why he came to church. He wrote about how throughout the week, he feels like an old car who has been driven too hard, gotten too dirty and run down. But he comes to church, and he finds himself restored, refreshed, renewed; and he goes back out into the world feeling like a bright, shiny car, buffed and cleaned and polishes and ready to go for the next week. What a gift that note has been to me, as I’ve been thinking about those images he shared for the last couple of weeks, thinking especially about how I am called as the priest here to try to help us cultivate space in worship for renewal and refreshment. One of the ways that I think we can all do this better is to try to be more intentional in our quiet before the service begins, spending that time in preparation for worship, in opening our hearts to God, inviting God to show up, shine for and dazzle us; looking forward to the ways that God will refresh us in and through our worship. We are a very social congregation, and we often struggle to be quiet before the services. It is much more appealing to visit and catch up with our friends, and socializing is an important aspect of church life. It also becomes a way to fill up and avoid the silence that our souls need to be open to God and to each other in our worship. So for the season of Lent, I’m going to invite us all to return to the practice of being quiet when you come into church. I’ll provide some prayer resources for you to help you prepare for worship; you may use them if you like or say your own prayers or even rest in the quiet. To help set the reflective tone we are trying to cultivate, we’ll be playing some quiet, reflective music through the sound system. I invite you to enter into this in the spirit in which it is offered-as creating space for ourselves and for others to be refreshed and renewed in worship and to encounter the dazzle, Shekhinah, the light that reveals God’s glory (or God’s presence?) in someone or some place. So that you may be refreshed and renewed, sent out to seek out God’s light in others and to hold up a mirror before them. Your invitation for this week is to see the light in one other person and to find some way to acknowledge that in them, to hold up the mirror before them through words or deeds so they might see God’s glory reflected back at them. In closing, here is a blessing for you for this Last Sunday after Epiphany by the artist and minister Jan Richardson: When Glory A Blessing for Transfiguration Sunday That when glory comes, we will open our eyes to see it. That when glory shows up, we will let ourselves be overcome not by fear but by the love it bears. That when glory shines, we will bring it back with us all the way, all the way, all the way down.i i. When Glory by Jan Richardson. http://paintedprayerbook.com/2014/02/23/transfiguration-sunday-when-glory/

6th Sunday after the Epiphany_2020

Epiphany 6A_2020 February 20, 2020 I can’t hear this passage from Deuteronomy without thinking about a former colleague of mine-the Rev. Donnell Flowers. Rev Flowers was an African American Baptist preacher who I worked with at the Stewpot Soup Kitchen, where I worked in inner city Jackson in the three years between college and seminary. Reverend Flowers was a straight-talking, no-nonsense kind of man who had lived a hard life himself and who was the director of the men’s homeless shelter at Stewpot. Rev. Flowers would quote this passage from Deuteronomy regularly—“I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him.” Many of the people who came through Stewpot and the Men’s shelter especially were battling the demons of addiction to either alcohol or drugs or both. Before the beginning of the weekend, Rev. Flowers would lay it out before them in his customary no-nonsense fashion. To choose life was to stay safe and sober through the weekend; to choose death was to succumb to the demons of addiction and sometimes would even result in physical death. This passage for today is interesting because it is Moses’ valedictory address to the people of Israel. They have escaped slavery in Egypt through the deliverance of the Lord. They have wandered in the wilderness in search of the promised land, suffering their share of hardships and complaints and bad decisions. They have received the law at Sinai-the 10 commandments which help to mark them as God’s chosen people. And now they are about to enter the promised land, but Moses is not allowed to go with them. Our reading for today is his parting words to them. And what’s interesting to me in this passage is that Moses’s “you” in this speech isn’t singular; it’s plural.” He’s not singling out individuals and telling them that their individual choices will lead to life and prosperity or death and adversity for each individual. Throughout this whole speech, Moses is saying “y’all.” (Or even more emphatic “all y’all”): “I call heaven and earth to witness against y’all today that I have set before y’all life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that y’all and all y’all’s descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him.” It’s not about the impact that individual choices make on individuals lives. It’s about how our collective choices shape our society for good and for ill. And it’s also about how our individual choices impact our communities. Our gospel reading for today is the third portion out of four of Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount. In today’s portion, Jesus is tackling the law, which is not unrelated to what Moses is also talking about. There are a number of different ways that scholars have interpreted Jesus’s words—from we can never live up to the law, so Jesus’s teachings are showing that we must rely solely on God’s grace; to Jesus asking us to take the law more seriously, to realize that our choices between life and death are fulfilled by whether we choose to live into God’s law or not. I recently read a third option: that Jesus is inviting us to go beyond the letter of the law to the spirit of the law, not just checking off boxes (no murder today, check!) but considering the fortunes of our neighbors in our choices and seeking the path of reconciliation and life for all when at all possible. Another preacher suggested that we consider thinking “about what kind of community we want to inhabit. In what ways do the laws we know and observe help us not just stay out of trouble but actually care for one another? And in what ways are we tempted to honor the law -- satisfying it legally -- rather than honoring our neighbor? What are the laws today that we need to intensify to do justice to the kind of relationships that God calls us to as children of the kingdom?”i This week, I read a poem that I think gets to the heart of all of this. It is titled clothesline," by Marilyn Maciel. i you us them those people wouldn’t it be lovely if one could live in a constant state of we? some of the most commonplace words can be some of the biggest dividers they what if there was no they? what if there was only us? if words could be seen as they floated out of our mouths would we feel no shame as they passed beyond our lips? if we were to string our words on a communal clothesline would we feel proud as our thoughts flapped in the breeze?ii Your invitation this week is to reflect upon the question, “What kind of community do we want to inhabit?” What are the actions we can take to “choose life” for all people and not just for ourselves? “What are the laws today that we need to change or to intensify to do justice to the kind of relationships that God calls us to as children of the kingdom?” i. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1521 (David Lose) ii. "clothesline," poem by Marilyn Maciel. Published in Patti Digh, "Life Is a Verb: 37 Days To Wake Up, Be Mindful, And Live Intentionally." (Rowman & Littlefield, 2008), 42.

5th Sunday after the Epiphany-Year A

5th Sunday after the Epiphany-Year A February 9, 2020 This past week, I stole a magazine from the Candler Hospital waiting room. Now, before you go reporting me to the periodical police, hear me out! I was getting onto the elevator on the 6th floor after having visited parishioners in the hospital, and I looked down and noticed it on the table. It was an copy of O Magazine and the headline was “What Would You Stand Up For?: It’s your time to rise and be the light you want to see.” As I got onto the elevator, I thought, “That sounds like it might connect with the readings for this Sunday.” So I googled O Magazine and the headline to figure out how to legally obtain said periodical, and I learned, on that elevator ride down, that the magazine was from April 2018, and I could buy if from a seller through Amazon for $4. I got off the elevator and hesitated a moment; turned and got back on the elevator, rode it to the 6th floor; jumped out and snatched the magazine and hopped back on the elevator to ride it down. (It just goes to show you the lengths a preacher will go for a good sermon illustration!) After I got the pilfered periodical home safely (you should have seen me trying to leave Candler hospital as “naturally” as possible), I read the article that had led to my petty larceny. In the article, journalists had asked different, everyday people who were making an impact for good in the world the question: “what would you stand up for?” And then they reported the answers. Most of the people were fighting for causes that they had experienced first-hand, working to make the world safer, more just. It was inspiring to read the stories of their transformations from difficulty or challenge to epiphany, new ways of understanding the world and their own empowerment to make a difference. So, what would you stand up for? It’s your time to rise and be the light you want to see…. Our Old Testament reading for today is a reading from the book of Isaiah. Isaiah is a long book that scholars think was written by at least three different people during three different time periods. The first portion of Isaiah-what scholars call First Isaiah- takes place when Israel is headed for trouble, the enemies are at the gates and the kingdom is about to fall to foreign invaders. The second portion—Second Isaiah—is written to the people of Israel who have been taken into captivity by the foreign invaders into Babylon. They are trying to figure out how to be the people of God removed from their land which had been promised by God, trying to figure out how to continue to be God’s chosen people when it seems God has forsaken them. The portion for today—Third Isaiah-is what is happening after the people in exile have been allowed to return to Israel. They have come home and find their homeland is in ruins: the temple is destroyed; there is no infrastructure; they have to completely rebuild the trappings of both their common life and their worship. In today’s passage, the prophet is writing to them that they are spending too much energy on the trappings of worship; they are trying to influence God in their fasting, and they are quarreling with one another and mistreating their workers and the most vulnerable among them. The prophet reminds them of what God’s priorities are and therefore, what their priorities should be: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin? Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.” The gospel reading for today is the second portion of Jesus’s famous teaching known as the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus has started with the beatitudes, and he is now teaching about discipleship—how to maintain our “saltiness.” It’s an invitation to think about the question “what are the actions that we take on the road of following Jesus”? For us, as followers of Jesus, we don’t have to rely on O Magazine to invite us to imagine what we are most passionate about, what we would stand up for in order to let our light shine in the world. Jesus is clear in his re-iteration of the teachings of the Old Testament what our mission should be, what we need to be doing as his disciples to maintain our saltiness. It is “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke. …to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin…” If we do these things, God promises that our light, too, will shine forth like the dawn and healing will spring up among and through us. And don’t we think the world needs us to do this now more than ever? Your invitation this week is to sit with this call to discipleship from Isaiah, and to spend some time in discernment around what your action should be. And then act like a disciple of Jesus this week. Do something to fight injustice, to break the yoke of someone who is oppressed, feed someone who is hungry, or support the work of others who are already doing this. What would you stand up for? It’s your time to rise and be the light you want to see….

Feast of the Presentation of our Lord: Candelmas 2020

The Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord February 2, 2020 Today is the Feast of the Presentation of our Lord—one of the “top ten feasts” in our church calendar. Today, on this 40th day after Jesus’s birth, we remember how Mary and Joseph took Jesus to the temple for his dedication to the Lord-to fulfill the law of Moses. During this rite, Mary also finished the purification rite which she was required to do after having given birth to a son. As they are in the temple to offer the appropriate prayers and sacrifices for this ritual, the Holy Family encounter two elderly people—Simeon and Anna. And both of these people see the manifestation of God in the Christ child and they talk about it. Simeon has been promised by God that he will see the Lord’s Messiah before he dies. As he encounters Mary, Joseph, and Jesus in the temple, Simeon takes the child into his arms and he proclaims that he may now die in peace because he has seen God’s promise fulfilled. Simeon’s words are an ancient and well-loved song that we call the Nunc Dimittis (which is Latin for Now Depart), and we use these words in our liturgies for the end of the day—Evening Prayer and Compline. Over the years, this feast day has also been known as Candelmas. Candelmas, or the feast of candles, is a mid-way point; a mid-way point between Christmas and Lent and also a mid-way point between the shortest day of the year and the beginning of spring. As early as the 7th century, Christians would celebrate the hope of the return of the light which Simeon’s song conveys with lighted processions as a looking forward to new life and spring. “One tradition that grew up around Candlemas was that you could predict how harsh the second half of winter was going to be by looking at the weather on that day. An old Scottish saying says, ‘If Candlemas day is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year.’”i Does that sound like any modern commemoration that we also keep on February 2nd? So, today as we remember this past year and prepare for this new year of 2020 as a church in our annual parish meeting, we also participate in this ancient celebration of hope. We give thanks for our connection and rootedness to our past. And we celebrate the new life that God is calling forth in and among us. This past week, I came across a story from the artist Brian Andreas that I had shared years before. It reads: “If there is any secret to this life I live, this is it: the sound of what cannot be seen sings within everything that can. And there is nothing more to it than that.” It reminds me of Simeon, of his task of the many years he spent waiting and watching for signs of the fulfillment of the Lord’s promise to him. It reminds me of how this is our task as well, to keep watch for the fulfillment of God’s promise of new life, of light that conquers the darkness in the world around us, and it reminds me of how we are called to point those signs of fulfilled promise out to each other. This week, I have been especially fortunate to talk to a number of you who have already been doing this work of listening and watching, looking for signs, and I have been blessed by the ways that you have shared that with me. “If there is any secret to this life I live, this is it: the sound of what cannot be seen sings within everything that can. And there is nothing more to it than that.” Your invitation this week is to pay attention, to listen for the sound of what cannot be seen which sings out within everything that can, and to share that with others. i. http://www.stpaulswrj.org/st-pauls-blog/2014/4/27/b3x9oi55ji60ake0imcs8xtv4p57h6

3rd Sun after Epiphany Year A

3rd Sunday after the Epiphany- Year A January 26, 2020 Our gospel reading for today begins: “When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea…” At this point in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus has been baptized by John in the Jordan River; he has been driven into the wilderness to face temptations, and he has just come out of the wilderness to begin his ministry when our reading for today picks up and he hears the news about John’s arrest. So what does Jesus do? He moves. He had been raised in Nazareth, a different region in Galilee, and Matthew tells us that he makes his home in Capernaum by the sea. Last year when we made our trip to the Holy Land, our tour group visited Capernaum. It was the end of the day, and we had spent the whole first day on a bus driving around Galilee, following the edge of the Sea of Galilee. We had seen the ruins of a huge Roman complex right in the heart of Galilee; we had visited the purported sights of some of Jesus’s miracles and teachings, and with less than an hour left of daylight, we pulled up in Capernaum. As we followed the crowds, I stopped at the entrance to take a picture of the sign: “Caphernaum the town of Jesus.” I wandered around an excavated synagogue and peered underneath a modern church which had been built over the ruins that were thought to be the home of Simon Peter’s mother in law. I walked past the large bronze statue of Peter to look out over the Sea of Galilee, all close together within the space of one of our squares in downtown Savannah. As I wandered around this place where Jesus had chosen to make his home, I thought about what it means to make a place home. Matthew suggests that Jesus chooses to make his home in Capernaum in fulfillment of the prophecy. But we all know that there is much more that goes into making a place home. Home is our comfortable place, where we are known and safe. It’s a place whose landscape and surroundings are familiar. Home is a place where we have friends and family and pets others who care about us, and home is a place that is layered with memories and experiences. It is the place where we can be most fully ourselves. (I know certain people who say that the first thing they do when they get home is take off certain articles of clothing!) This is why when we face disruptions in the places that we consider to be home, then these disruptions can be the most unsettling. However, in life as in this gospel reading, we see God calling, God working in and through the disruptions. Jesus heeds God’s call to make his home elsewhere as a result of the disruption of his cousin’s imprisonment. The disciples heed Jesus’s call to follow him, in the midst of their orderly, homely lives—doing the work of their families, called from what they have always known to lives of disruption in following Jesus. Those of us who have ever been in churches that are suffering from conflicts can relate to Paul’s appeal to the conflicted church in Corinth. When church feels like home and disruptions happen there, it is hard to hear God’s call in the midst of the clamoring factions. So Paul reminds them of their common call to preach the good news of the cross of Jesus Christ. He reminds them how God works through the ultimate disruption to bring about salvation for all and how we are invited to be a part of that. Our collect for today reminds us that each and every one of us is called by God, and we ask God for the grace to “answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation, that we and the whole world may perceive the glory of his marvelous works.” For this week, I invite you to think about your call and to think about the call of this church in terms of home and disruption. Where do you feel most at home right now physically, mentally, and spiritually? Then look at the ways that God is disrupting you in your life? It can be in those places or it can be elsewhere? Another way of asking this question is “what’s keeping you up at night?” Then pray about the ways that God might be calling you to a new way of being in and through the disruptions. In January of 2001, I met with the Bishop and he told me he saw in me a call to the priesthood that had also been seen by my community. He told me he was sending me to seminary that fall, and we talked about some practicalities. Before we finished our time together, his canon to the ordinary, who had been sitting there with a hymnal open on his lap the whole time, told me he wanted to share with me the words to his favorite hymn. It’s hymn 661—“they cast their nets in Galilee” and it was written by William Alexander Percy, a fellow Mississippian who had known his own share of disruptions and call in his life. In my 19 years of trying to faithfully follow God’s call in my life, these words have affirmed and upheld and haunted me: They cast their nets in Galilee Just off the hills of brown Such happy simple fisherfolk Before the Lord came down Contented peaceful fishermen Before they ever knew The peace of God That fill’d their hearts Brimful and broke them too. Young John who trimmed the flapping sail, Homeless, in Patmos died. Peter, who hauled the teeming net, Head-down was crucified. The peace of God, it is no peace, But strife closed in the sod, Yet, let us pray for but one thing– The marvelous peace of God.

1st Sunday after Epiphany-Baptism of our Lord 2020

Epiphany 1A_2020 bapt letter January 12, 2020 A letter to Holst Herring upon the occasion of his baptism. Dear Holst, Today, in our church we remember and celebrate Jesus’s baptism in the Jordan River by his cousin John the Baptist. We hear the story of how Jesus comes to John and asks to be baptized, but John protests. Finally, Jesus convinces him, and as Jesus comes up dripping out of the water, the Holy Spirit lands on him like a dove and the voice of God thunders from the heavens, “This is my son the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Our Psalm for today reminds us of the might and the power of God, whose voice overpowers the four elements: earth, fire, wind, and water. Our epistle reading for today is a sermon by the apostle Peter in the Acts of the Apostles, and in this sermon, Peter tells the story of all that he has seen and experienced as a disciple of Jesus: “You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ--he is Lord of all. That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.” Holst, today you are being baptized into that story, into the body of Christ through his death and resurrection. Today, your parents and godparents (and all of us gathered here) are recognizing that you have been named and claimed as God’s beloved since your very creation. In your baptism, your parents and godparents are accepting that belovedness on your behalf, and they are promising that they will raise you in a way that teaches you how to live into that belovedness. Because you see, Holst, today isn’t just a special occasion, a chance to pull out the fancy clothes and have a party (although we do celebrate with you this new life in Jesus Christ which you are taking on today). Just as Jesus’s baptism is the beginning of his ministry, so today is the beginning for you as well. It is the beginning of your discipleship which means living your life in accordance with the teachings of Jesus, living your life in a way that befits God’s beloved. This means seeking and serving Christ in all persons; it means loving your neighbors as yourself. It means respecting the dignity of every human being, no matter how different they are from you, and striving for justice and peace among all people. It is wonderful and difficult and life-giving and life-changing work upon which you and your parents embark this day, and it is much too difficult to do alone. But the good news is that you don’t have to. Just as your parents and godparents have made promises to God on your behalf, so has this church, this gathered community made a promise, too. Our promise is that you will never have to do this work of discipleship alone. We promise to support and uphold you in it, to help your parents teach you the story of our faith, to help you remember when you forget, to speak God’s peace to you when you are afraid, to celebrate with you when you rejoice, to remind you that God forgives you when you falter and fail, and to sit with you when you mourn. It is the work of all disciples together to help spread the good news of God’s love—that is divinely all powerful and humanly vulnerable, a love that is stronger than death-- to everyone we come into contact with through our words sometimes, but mostly through our actions-in the way that we love, in the way we ask for forgiveness when we hurt someone or are wrong, in the ways we see that other people are as beloved by God as you are. May you never forget the truth of your belovedness, and from this day forward, may you live that truth out in the way that you love others in this world. Your sister in Christ, Melanie+