Roger Fenn, who I believe started the Fenn School, in Concord in the United States, used to enjoy telling the story of how, as a young boy, he had been present at the baptism of some relative, and thinking it inspiring, he decided to baptize himself. Baptisms in those days, as with many traditional churches today, were “in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” Young Roger was fairly confident he remembered what was said and done in the ceremony, so he went home, sat himself on the edge of the horse trough, pinched his nose, said “Roger Fenn, I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and Over She Goes” — and dropped backwards into the trough!
For outsiders to Christianity, baptism must appear something of an irrelevant curiosity. Even the form of baptism offered by the various forms of the Church is by no means agreed. Sometimes it is seen as a naming ceremony, and sometimes more a ritual to mark entry to Church membership. Some Christians take for granted the idea of total immersion, whereas those from other denominations seem to prefer a highly formalised symbolic ritual as for example we see with the touching or sprinkling of water to the head as part of infant baptism. Sometimes the baptism takes place in the sea or in a river, but for many of those who we might like to think of belonging to the older more established Churches baptism is a much more refined and gentle process.
Although, at least as far as the leadership of the Church is concerned, it now generally means a symbolic way of marking entry into membership of the Christian church, historically that wasn’t always the case. Remember in Jesus’ day there was no Christian Church to join when John the Baptist was calling for repentance and offering baptism as a form of sanctification.
The early Jews practiced baptism, but that was for gentiles, the non Jews who wanted to convert to Judaism and who needed to be cleansed of the beliefs they were renouncing. This incidentally is why John the Baptist would never have been accepted in formal Jewish circles in his day. By offering baptism to those who came to hear him in the desert, he was saying by implication they had strayed so far from the faith they needed as preparation for the Messiah, they should no longer see themselves as Jews and they needed baptism back into the true faith.
From what most Churches teach about Jesus, it may even seem strange that Jesus wanted to be baptised. After all, if he were indeed the Messiah, John would hardly be likely to think of Jesus as needing repentance and a return to the true faith. The other gospels certainly seem to record John as initially being unwilling to give him baptism but those of you who followed the Luke reading carefully might have noted that Luke does not even specifically refer to John performing the baptism even if from the other gospels it seems likely he intended this to be understood.
We cannot even be certain as to why Jesus chose to be baptised – particularly by John who many might say was Jesus’ inferior.
Perhaps this was partly Jesus’ way of showing his humanity and humility. Just as Luke points to Jesus growing in wisdom and maturity as a young man, perhaps the act of seeking baptism was a way of Jesus acknowledging that he was arriving at the banks of that river in need to take that significant step of public declaration of his intended mission. That Jesus was putting himself at the same level as the nobodies gathered to listen to John the Baptist gives us another dimension and reminds us that if Jesus himself can start his history-altering ministry with this act of humility we should look at ourselves again to see if our discipleship shows the same marks of humility.
But here is another thought….. What if Jesus had received his baptism, then returned home satisfied that now he had been put right with his faith, that now his relationship with God had the seal of religious approval, and therefore he might now retire with honour, would he still deserve our loyalty? Hoisting the “Mission Accomplished” banner prematurely would surely have made no sense. It was the first step of a journey to be embarked upon, rather than a destination, that Jesus was declaring in his chosen act of baptism.
But if that is true of Jesus, surely the same should be said of the purpose of our own baptism. I am guessing that many here have had an infant baptism ceremony in their past, and many here who are now adult, have no doubt been present to recite the congregational promise to support the child and their family as they grew in their faith. A simple question … how has it worked out since? Are the marks of our Baptism now evident to others in our lives and mission, not just in church but in our day to day world? And as to that promise to stand by the family as they helped the baptised one grow in wisdom and faith ….What did we actually do to follow through on that promise?
I would like to suggest that it is not a given, that all who would be Christian understand that it is the living not the title that counts. I seem to remember Tolstoy once observed, with perhaps only slight exaggeration:
“Everyone thinks of changing humanity, nobody thinks of changing himself (or herself)”.
Recently I was invited to one of the nicest Baptism services I have ever attended, and this was with the Epsom Calvary Tamil congregation. It was dignified, thoughtful and impressive – followed by a celebration banquet … and what’s more I suggest it would have left John the Baptist and his baptism ceremony looking uncouth and amateur by comparison. But never forget that the Baptism itself is only the setting for the promises made. We can indeed work very hard to ensure that the setting is as memorable and helpful as possible, but the real test of the ceremony will probably take days, months, years and even decades to play out, because the test is not based on how we stage the ceremony, but is found rather in the fulfilment of the promises.
Certainly in the case of reporting Jesus’ baptism there was great drama with Luke describing the Holy Spirit as a mysterious disembodied voice recognising Jesus as the Son of God – yet this same Holy Spirit promptly sends Jesus into the wilderness for more than a month of reflection and tough living. For me if I had the choice I confess I prefer the catered banquet in the Church hall as a postscript to baptism but from what I have observed of the Christian journeys of others (and to a much lesser extent from my own journey), what I interpret as following the Spirit often leads into challenging and uncharted waters.
But let’s face the issue squarely, baptism only makes sense if we and our supporters emerge from the baptism to be committed and be open to a new and different way of life. With infant baptism the commitment is one on behalf of the child which means of course that in the first instance the difference will need to be found in the acts of the supporters. Again unless the baptism signals the change why would we want the ceremony in the first place?
I think that for me looking back I can say one unexpected benefit of entering into the contract of baptism is that through the new adopted way of life I get glimpses of wonder in the new possibilities it captures.
At its best, baptism can only signal the start of a journey with uncertain and unpredictable way points – yet a journey associated with a clear impression of destiny no matter how elusive the destination might appear to be. In my own case, honesty also reminds me that it is a journey to which I haven’t always been true.
Now contemplating retirement for the second time, and looking back, there have been those watershed highlights. In some ways I am sorry that congregations often seem to save their nicest words of appreciation for leaders, because perhaps the greatest learning Shirley and I have experienced is that the highlights are usually the result of team effort. Rebuilding and refurbishing churches, running large functions, meeting for community meals, dances and concerts … all of these are not projects attributed to a single leader. When projects work, look about you ….in the pews are the real workers for the parish. And just as well. If it were up to me to cater for the many visitors to the parsonage – or to our lunches, I can assure you indigestion or worse would be the consequence. Of course the last five years attempting to learn ministry on the job…for me there have been many highlights….. Yet also a life with its share of failures and frustration. Words said unwisely – or words left unsaid until too late. Harmful political decisions left unchallenged…. A dying person not visited in time, sick and lonely people not always visited … many, many missed opportunities.
In retrospect, strangely enough it isn’t the failures or successes that define the life – and if it comes to that I suspect many of us have failures as well as successes. What does make the journey worthwhile is the certain knowledge that there has been a feeling of shared destiny which, in truth, can probably find its origins in those initial decisions – baptism, confirmation and what Kierkegaard once called “the eternal Yes”. True perhaps the end goal seems as far away as ever, but the warmth of friendship and the support of a host of people who share the goals and frustration of ministry have added immeasurably to the joy of this stage of the journey.
Rex Hunt in his sermon on this particular topic of the Baptism of Jesus refers to the opening scene of Jesus’ public ministry, where the storyteller Luke has Jesus using the words of Isaiah to describe the significance of this baptism event , when he appears before his home synagogue gathering.
Surprisingly Rex says, it is not a word or call of mission, sending him into the future. It is about the delight of God in this beloved, this chosen, this person called by name.
Not a calling so much to ‘do’.
But a calling to ‘be’… that liberates for life.
Baptism then is calling each of us by name. Whether or not we hear and respond to that voice is what makes the difference between the missed opportunity or a life changing experience.
I am also indebted to Rex for drawing our attentions to Julie McGuinness’ Celtic poem ‘Reflections on life’s road’ (Quoted in Bradley 2000: 243-44) Colonies of Heaven. Celtic models for today’s church. London: D L & T
This poem also captures the spirit of this ‘calling to be’: Listen to it now:
Some people travel in straight lines:
Sit in metal boxes, eyes ahead,
Always mindful of their target,
Moving in obedience to coloured lights
and white lines,
Mission accomplished at journey’s end.
Some people travel round in circles:
Trudging in drudgery, eyes looking down,
Knowing only too well their daily,
Moving in response to clock and to habit,
Journey never finished yet never begun.
I want to travel in patterns of God’s making:
Walking in wonder, gazing all around,
Knowing my destiny, though not my destination,
Moving to the rhythm of the surging of (the) spirit,
A journey which when life ends,
in Christ has just begun. (Quoted in Bradley 2000: 243-44)