Salvation through Water

Baptism is simultaneously an ending and a beginning.

At the same time, the sacrament of baptism marks the end of one's earthly life and the beginning of one's heavenly life. At the same time, baptism marks the end of one's citizenship in the kingdom of earth and the beginning of one's citizenship in the kingdom of heaven. At the same time, baptism marks the end of Satan's dominion and the beginning of God's dominion. At the same time, baptism marks the end of the old man and the beginning of the new man. At baptism, we witness a transformation in every sense of the word.

This morning at church we were privileged to witness and be a part of the sacrament of baptism. The baptized one was an infant so, of course, could not speak for himself. His biological family and his family of faith (those of us in the congregation) spoke for him. I realize that infant baptism is under assault in many different faith communities, but my own thought was: "How lucky is this infant, for he is experiencing the truth of the Christian life - that when we cannot do for ourselves, others step in for us." The pattern began with Christ, who bore the punishment that should have been ours, and we who have received His grace are commanded to, in the same way, be that grace for others. This clearly happens at infant baptism. And if we who witnessed the ceremony are true to our vow, we will raise him up until the time when he can remember his baptism, remember the transformation which occurred fully today and begin to live into that himself.

The congregation was given that opportunity at the baptismal covenant today. Like a marriage ceremony, a baptism ceremony gives the believer the opportunity to renew his or her commitment to the Lord and to the church. The baptismal liturgy requires it! In the midst of the ceremony, the congregation proclaims its faith anew with a recitation of the Apostles Creed, those ancient beautiful words: "Credo . . . credo . . . credo" ("I believe . . . I believe . . . I believe"). Toward the end of the service, the liturgy makes it explicit, as the pastor twice recites the words: "Remember your baptism and be thankful." I looked around and wondered how many young baptized persons were doing this remembering for the first time.

I was also struck this morning with the words of the pastor's prayer over the infant who was about to be baptized:

"Eternal Father:
When nothing existed but chaos,
you swept across the dark waters
and brought forth light.
In the days of Noah
you saved those on the ark through water.
After the flood you set in the clouds a rainbow.
When you saw your people as slaves in Egypt,
you led them to freedom through the sea.
Their children you brought through the Jordan
to the land which you promised.

"In the fullness of time you sent Jesus,
nurtured in the water of a womb.
He was baptized by John and anointed by your Spirit.
He called his disciples
to share in the baptism of his death and resurrection
and to make disciples of all nations.

"Pour out your Holy Spirit,
to bless this gift of water and he who receives it,
to wash away his sin
and clothe him in righteousness
throughout his life,
that, dying and being raised with Christ,
he may share in his final victory."

The story of Scripture is the story of salvation, of transformation, and it is remarkable how many times that transformation comes through water. In that manner, the sacrament of baptism is a proclamation of the Gospel, perhaps better than any words could affirm. But for those of us who are often too deaf to understand the signs, the words bring the message home.

Credo.

The Crimson Stain

Today we celebrated the Eucharist. I love how our church does communion. After reading through the Communion Liturgy, the ushers dismiss the pews one at a time to the front of the church where we each stand or kneel before the altar. The Pastor and another helper serve each person in succession reciting those beautiful words: "The body of Christ given for you; the blood of Christ shed for you." The helper, who always carries the chalice, holds a white cloth under the cup in order to catch any drops of wine coming off the morsel that the communing one has dipped into the cup. This is done either for practical purposes (so that no wine gets on the carpet of the church) or for theological purposes (so that the precious blood of Christ is not spilled on the ground). Personally, I hope it is for the latter. After the congregation has communed, the Pastor slowly and deliberately covers the remaining elements with the white cloth.

Today, as I sat in the pew, I noticed the white cloth covering the cup. It was stained with several drops of crimson wine. It occurred to me that the scene was a perfect reminder of the sacrifice that was made for my salvation and for the salvation of all those sitting around me. For it is the blood of Christ, shed on the cross, remembered and recalled anew this day that gives us life. That crimson stained cloth was beautiful - he became crimson that my sins could become white.

"Make them be for us the body and blood that we might be for the world the body of Christ redeemed by his blood." -United Methodist Communion Liturgy

"This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood." -Luke 22:20

"The punishment that brought us peace fell upon him, for by his stripes we are healed." -Isaiah 53:5

Remembering Easter

There is a Russian Orthodox monk who teaches at Marquette, of whom I have previously written on this blog, named Father Alexander. Through these first few months that I have known him, he has always worn the same thing, a rather tattered, plain black monastic robe. Today, I noticed that he had undergone a stunning transformation - he was dressed in a white robe, an ancient monastic tradition marking the change of reality brought by the resurrection.

Of course, Jesus resurrected from the grave several millenia ago; thus, we have technically been living in the new age, the age where death is abolished and the world in the process of recreation, for the entirety of all of our lives. What change should there be, then, from last week to now? In a word, much.

The church rehearses the Christian story each year through our reading of Scripture and our liturgical celebrations. We do this to remind us of the decisive truths that God has acted definitively in the world to save us from sin and death. We are a sinful people who, like Israel, too quickly forget. We are in desperate need, in other words, of remembering.

The Greek word for "remembrance" is anamnesis, and it is much more nuanced than our English word "remember." When we say we "remember", we think about something that is in the past and we think about that time back then, that is, back in the past. But anamnesis is not simply the remembering of something that is in the past. Rather, it is the re-calling of something in the past so as to make it present for us today. Anamnesis is literally the re-presenting of a past event in our present life. Thus, when the church remembers the resurrection of the Lord, we do not simply think about a past event, we bring that past event into our present reality. Christ the Lord is risen today!

The early church symbolized this through the ancient tradition of Easter morning baptisms. Normally, Easter was the only day in which a baptism would take place. And the catechumens would be led to the living water at dawn on Easter morning, the same time that the women came upon the empty tomb. As the catechumens were baptized in the water, they remembered the resurrection of their Lord and it was present to them. And coming out of the water, they dawned the white robe symbolizing their new, imperishable garments in Christ.

Christ died and rose 2000 years ago, yes. But in our rehearsal of the story yesterday, we have made the reality of the empty tomb real in our time. As a result, there is a change this week from last week. Our remembering of that story and that truth ought encourage us to walk in the new life. We all, like Father Alexander, should be walking in white robes.

Wisdom from the Pope

It goes without saying to most who know me and my theological persuasions that I am, shall we say, less than enamoured with the ministry of Joel Osteen. Perhaps in another blog I will delineate the many problems that I have with him. In the current installment, I am reminded of a sermon of his I caught on a late night televised service of his mega church Lakewood. As he preached, I was unclear of whether I was listening to a sermon or to the State of the Union address for it seemed that at every other sentence, the huge auditorium of people would burst forth in applause. With the acknowledgement that I can tend to be a little critical, it did seem to me that he reacted to the applause as any stage actor might.

Perhaps we might learn from the wisdom of Pope Benedict, who wrote somewhere: "Whenever applause enters the liturgy, something has gone horribly awry."

An overstatement? Maybe. But I think his point is valid. For I believe that those who are fond of applause in church must always ask themselves, "For whom am I clapping?"