Rev. Paul Tellström                                                              

Irvine United Congregational Church

The Unbaptized Arm

January 7, 2007

                                                   

New Testament Reading: Acts 8:14-17, Luke 3:15-17, 21-22                              word count: 2,351

 

            Something happened that illustrates for me a small piece of what today’s scripture is about.  At noon on Friday I suddenly decided that within an hour I wanted to be doing something different from what I thought I would be doing that day.  I felt lifted out of my chair and propelled into my car to just go somewhere completely on my own. 

            I found myself at the Los Angeles Philharmonic with five minutes to spare before their next concert.  I stood in a line for rush tickets, not knowing how it all worked, and for $10, I was placed in the front row center of the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.  I listened to the orchestra warm up and thought that this was just what I needed—exactly one hour ago, I was at home feeling the urge to do something new, and here I was.

            Then I looked at the program.  Brahms and Schoenberg.  I never cared for Brahms.  And as for Schoenberg, he was of that modern school that developed all that dissonance and atonality that has always set my teeth on edge.  I lump him into that school of music I call, “Music to Disembowel Live Cats By,” and now here I was stuck in front of the train wreck that was sure to be barreling my way.

            But I was a part of it now.  I had chosen to get in my car and go downtown to a concert without knowing what it was, and somehow I was put in the middle of the front row.  And it began.  Essa-Pekka Salonen came out, bowed, and then began to lead the Philharmonic in music I had never heard before, music that swelled up and filled the hall.  The orchestra played as one unit, each individual filled with the spirit of the music, and together sent waves of this music out across the hall, filling me and making me respond inwardly to this strange sound that I had always avoided, but now it had me and I didn’t want it to let me go.  After intermission, Helene Grimaud, the fantastic young French pianist, joined the orchestra, and together they performed Brahm’s 1st Piano Concerto.  This young woman playing the piano right in front of me began to gasp as she played, her eyes shining and wet.  Her spirit infected the first violin, and soon others were caught up in the experience of creation that was fueled by pure spirit.  At the conclusion, the audience erupted, and the community was one. 

            For me, I had shared my own moment of transformation in community and through the experience of the music.  Something was made new—certain prejudices about what I do and do not like were exposed and dropped, and I came away uplifted and expanded.  I was also keenly aware of how the spirit works through the creative impulse to move humanity.

            The experience was a baptism of sorts.  It contained the three elements of what baptism represents.  The desire to do something new, the desire to be a part of community, and the desire to serve that community, in this case through music, and all the time through the full awareness that the spirit is moving and directing everything, and that we are a part of that spirit in these ways.

            Think of baptism in three components.

First, it is the desire to begin anew. It is a fresh start, even when we are fairly comfortable and satisfied with our old lives.  Paul said we emerge from baptism to walk “in newness of life” (Romans 6:4). There are two ways to make something new.  We can start with nothing and make something new, or we can start with what we already have and make that new.  Baptism transforms our lives and we think, speak, live, and act in a new way from the moment of baptism on.

            The second part of baptism is the good news that we have been included.  It is performed in community and signifies that we want to be a part of the living water of life, wherever it runs and in whatever different kinds of community we find ourselves a part of.  We belong.  Not just some of us, or some part of us, but all of us—inclusion is the fabric itself, and we pledge ourselves to weaving that fabric so that it fits not just us, but everyone who wants it.

            The third part of baptism is ordination.  With baptism comes the recognition that we are all connected to something greater than we are, and with the Spirit come gifts to be used in the service of God. It is baptism that makes us servants of God and of the church.  We too often view ministry as that which the minister does, but ministry is the work in which the whole gathered community engages in response to the call and claim of God on our lives.

            Today’s story centers on the baptism of Jesus.  It is an unusual story theologically because it raises the question of why Jesus needed to be baptized at all.  But still, he came to the River Jordan and went into the waters under the hand of his cousin John, an itinerant desert preacher.  Here in Jesus’ baptism are the three elements: It marked a beginning—a beginning of his ministry and of the events that would leave an indelible mark on the world.  It also spoke to the fact that he had come out of Nazareth where he had been a carpenter, and was now to be publicly included in a community that recognized that it was from God.  Third, it was an act of ordination.  The Spirit came down like a dove and there in that water he was filled with God’s spirit and the knowledge that the spirit could work within him.  And it did.

            I am very comfortable with symbols and metaphors, so the image of a white dove coming down from the light-filled heavens and resting upon Jesus does not make me run for the doors.

The image suggests just what it needs to; that Jesus was wholly and completely baptized in the eyes of God and the gathered community.  And, that the act of baptism calls each person to be aware of their connection to a divine source, to view life in a new way, to do it in community, and to recognize the need to get up, use your creative energies, and find ways to serve.

            Garrison Keillor tells the story of Larry the Sad Boy.  Larry the Sad Boy was saved twelve times, which is an all-time record in the Lutheran Church. In the Lutheran Church there is no altar call, no organist playing “Just as I Am,” and no minister with shiny hair manipulating the congregation. 

These are Scandinavian Lutherans, and they repent the same way that they sin; discreetly, tastefully, at the right time, and they bring a Jell-O-salad for afterwards.  Keillor writes, “Granted, we’re born in original sin and are worthless and vile, but twelve conversions is just too many.  God didn’t mean us to feel guilty all our lives.  There comes a point when you should dry your tears and join the building committee and start grappling with the problems of the church furnace and the church roof and make church coffee and be of use.”1

A part of baptism is ordination, a call to serve.  When we serve, we will encounter others who have been incorporated into the body and we will be challenged to see how our gifts complement the gifts of others.  Also, as we work side by side, we will find that our humility, gentleness, and patience may be tested from time to time.  In those moments we will realize that our transformation is still in process and we can’t give up on it.  In all of these things, baptism is a beginning.  But it is a beginning that calls us to bring all of ourselves to this place, and to all the places in our lives that need us wholly and completely.  No one should ever bring a part of their humanity anywhere—what is required is your full connection to life, or that life has fallen short.  The baptism is a claim on your entire humanity.  It has to be.  It’s all or nothing.

¨

 

Ivan the Great was the czar of all of Russia during the Fifteenth Century.  He brought together the warring tribes into one vast empire.  As a fighting man he was courageous.  As a general he was brilliant.  He drove out the Tartars and established peace across the nation.

However, Ivan was so busy waging his campaigns that he did not have a family.  His friends and advisers were quite concerned.  They reminded him that there was no heir to the throne, and should anything happen to him the union would shatter into chaos.  “You must take a wife who can bear you a son.” 

The busy soldier statesman told them that he did not have the time to search for a bride, but if they would find a suitable one, he would marry her.

The counselors and advisers searched the capitals of Europe to find an appropriate wife for the great czar.  And find her, they did.  They reported to Ivan of the beautiful dark eyed daughter of the King of Greece.  She was young, brilliant, and charming.  He agreed to marry her sight unseen.

The King of Greece was delighted.  It would align Greece in a favorable way with the emerging giant of the north.  But the King said that there had to be one condition: “He cannot marry my daughter unless he becomes a member of the Greek Orthodox Church.”

Ivan said, “Fine—I’ll do it!”

So, a priest was dispatched to Moscow to instruct Ivan in Orthodox doctrine.  Ivan was a quick student and learned the catechism in record time.  Arrangements were concluded, and the czar made his way to Athens accompanied by 500 of his best troops—his personal palace guard.

He was to be baptized into the Orthodox Church by immersion, as was the custom of the Eastern Church.  His soldiers, ever loyal, asked to be baptized also.  The Patriarch of the Church assigned 500 priests to give the soldiers a one-on-one catechism crash course.  The soldiers, all 500 of them, were to be immersed in one mass baptism.  Crowds gathered from all over Greece.

It had to have been an incredible sight—500 priests and 500 soldiers, a thousand people, walking into the blue Mediterranean.  The priests were dressed in black robes and tall black hats, the official dress of the Orthodox Church.  The soldiers wore their battle uniforms with full regalia—ribbons of valor, medals of courage and their weapons of battle.

Suddenly, there was a problem.  The Church prohibited professional soldiers from being members; they would have to give up their commitment to bloodshed.  They could not be killers and church members too.  After a hasty round of diplomacy, the problem was solved quite simply.  As the words were spoken and the priests began to baptize them, each soldier reached to his side and withdrew his sword.  Lifting it high overhead, every soldier was totally immersed—everything was baptized except for his fighting arm and sword.

That is a true historical fact.  The unbaptized arm.  What a powerful picture of how so many embrace their connection to the Divine.  “I can bring part of myself here, but not all of me.”  Or, “God will accept the part of me that I recognize, but not the part I don’t want to show or refuse to get help for.”  “I come to recognize that I am a part of the divine, except for the part that I have shame about, the part that needs treatment, the part that isn’t good enough.” 

“I will fool myself and God by being here, but I won’t really take this baptism thing seriously.  I won’t participate more than I am comfortable doing.”

How many unbaptized arms are here this morning?  How many unbaptized wills are here?  How many unbaptized talents?  Unbaptized check books?  Unbaptized social activities?  How many are there here this morning?1

The baptism of Jesus is like so many things we know about him—teaching by example and following the example much further than any of us dare to go.

Anything that cuts us up, divides us, separates us from the divine or each other; anything that says “this part God accepts and this part God doesn’t” has to be examined and discarded as destructive behavior, whether it is something we do to each other or something we do to ourselves.

 Today’s scripture regarding baptism suggests that you are already in, you are already loved.  Live out the feeling of being a part of something that is new, live out the good news that you are included, and for God’s sake, live out the obligation to bring the best of yourself to the service of humankind, to your loved ones and to yourself through the very recognition of your connection to God.

The story is told of a pastor’s words to a baby shortly after he had baptized her.  No doubt, the minister was speaking as much to the congregation as to the infant.  “Little sister, by this act of baptism, we welcome you to a journey that will take your whole life.  This isn’t the end.  It’s the beginning of God’s experiment with your life.  What God will make of you, we know not.  Where God will take you, surprise you, we cannot say.  This we do know and this we say—God is with you.”3 

The story we heard today about Jesus is that he came before the whole community to begin something new; his recognition of the importance of connecting his journey with the Divine and all that entails. 

Leave no part of you behind.  There are no unbaptized arms.  The spirit is with us, all of us, and every part of us, as we live out our baptism.    AMEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sermon Resources

1)      Garrison Keillor, “The Exiles,” Listening for God, Paula J. Carlson and Peter S. Hawkins,

      eds. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Press, 1994), p. 120.

2)      Dr. Wayne Dehoney, Walnut Street Baptist Church, The Pulpit

3)      William H. Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas, Resident Aliens (Nashville: Abingdon Press,

1989), pp. 52-53

 

Scripture for Sunday, January 7, 2006

The Unbaptized Arm

 

Acts 8:14-17

 

Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to them.  The two went down and prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit (for as yet the Spirit had not come upon any of them; they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus). Then Peter and John laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit.

 

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

 

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with  the Holy Spirit and fire.  His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”  Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.  And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”