Today is the feast of the Baptism of our Lord, always the Sunday following the Day of the Epiphany, which was last Tuesday, January 6. The associations now of that day in our country are quite unfortunate, but (let me just remind us!) January 6 is and for over 1500 years has been, the day WE remember the visitation of the wise men to the holy family. It begins the season of light, the lengthening of days, the gradual march towards Easter and springtime and all the promise these things hold for us as Christians. By the way, when the Quakers refer to keeping someone in their thoughts they say “holding them in the light.” I love that, and I pray we might all be “held in the light” this Epiphany.
On this theme of light, epiphanies and illumination, There's something in Buddhism called "bright faith." I learned about it during my sabbatical. It's a stage, but it can come and go again and again in the spiritual life, which is always cyclical, so maybe "stages" doesn't quite capture how it, the spiritual life, works. Bright faith is common at the beginning of one's journey, when we're new to an idea or a faith or a faith community. If we're raised as children in the church, bright faith is a given. There is no other kind when young. Once we've grown up, it's forever the standard we seek, and the well we return to. These kids over here in our corner, I think about that every week. The delight in church they get, I pray, and the reserves they're building as a result of these early days of faith. They will draw all their lives from what they learned and heard and felt in this corner.
Bright faith always comes back to us. It can be on retreat, or in a solitary moment, sometimes a church service or a particular reading from the Gospels inspires it. It can also come when we least expect, in our dark periods or times of confusion. A quiet, solid reassurance of God's presence, renewed energy and religious commitment.
A reason this came to mind today is because it describes the kind of moment we witness Jesus having in today’s Gospel reading.
This is the first time we meet him as an adult. If it seems like he grew up really fast from Christmas to this, it's because, as the Gospels narrate it, he did. We only have one childhood story from when he was twelve, and then it's right to the baptism, at (probably around) age thirty. Where he was spiritually, or even just geographically Where he was to this time--we don't know. It’s one of history’s most confounding silences.
Assuming he was still in Nazareth where we left off when the Christmas stories ended, then in today’s story he travels from there to Judea in the south, to this spot at the Jordan River where John the Baptist had been baptizing people eager to make a new start through his promise of repentance and renewal. Jesus approaches John, and a surprised John, surprised because he regards Jesus more highly than himself and someone who on the contrary should be baptizing him, agrees to the baptism. All four of the Gospels attest to this event, making it something that most certainly happened and one of the most important moments in Jesus’ life.
When he emerges from the water, heaven opens up and a dove descends and a voice, from heaven, says “This is my beloved, with him I am well pleased." Immediately my mind’s eye conjures all the art of this moment: a still scene, the waters calm, the dove hovering above, golden rays of light streaming down and Jesus standing there, looking both confident and serene.
It’s the custom of the church to either have baptisms on this day or, if there’s no one to baptize (we’re doing one next week), then for the whole congregation to renew our baptismal covenant. Which we’ll do right after this sermon. We do this because what we remember on this day is not only Jesus’ own baptism, but ours as well. To hear this just as a story about Jesus is to miss a very important point of today: What God says to him is meant for all of us. The voice Jesus heard when the heavens opened, has descended on each of us, as well. We are all God’s beloved. God is well pleased with us. Next Sunday that voice, these words, will become foundational in the life of a new little person here at St. James. Being witness to that is a privilege and reminder of what God thinks of each of us.
I've said this before and I'll say it again: if you really absorbed these words, really understood them to be true--and there are bright but all-too-fleeting moments in our faith life when we do--how would you be different? What would you cease to care about? What would you care about more? What would you take back that you've said or done? What strivings in your life would cease? Certainly grudges would be the first to go.
If we really understood that we are loved, sealed with the spirit in baptism, complete just as we are in God's eyes, so many of our moments would look different. It’s almost overwhelming to think about. The decisions we make, the things we say, the people we look up to, what we notice, what we react to, what we worry about--it all changes.
Every Wednesday here we have a Eucharist service in the chapel. We commemorate every time whoever is in the calendar of saints for that day, so my weeks are filled (I’m so lucky) with stories of men and women whose lives actually are lived out of this deep knowledge of God’s love for them, words imparted at their baptisms. They--and this the case with social reformer Francis Gaudet whom we honored 2 weeks ago, Deacon and educator Harriett Bedell whom we honored last Wednesday, also a saint we have in our very own graveyard just outside here, a parishioner here at St. James, Julia Chester Emery who started the United thank Offering to help the disadvantaged (still going strong today) and whose feast day was two days ago--they, all these women, saints in our calendar, at some point in their lives listened to a sermon, or walked down a street and heard someone say something that any one of us might have heard, too, but these simple moments changed the course of their lives. Their grounding in love allowed them to listen and then respond.
You are God’s beloved. In you God is well pleased.
Bright faith moments happen when we know these words deep down to be true. Everything we’ve wanted from life, from faith, is right here in them: you are loved. You are complete. You have nothing to prove. Now, go and live. Really live. Live like you would in this knowledge.
As we celebrate the baptism of our Lord, always at the same time we begin a new year, let us remember, and act on, our bright faith moments of total assurance of God’s love.