In 2004 on the Tuesday night preceding Ash Wednesday and the start of the Lenten season, Mel Gibson released his much anticipated "The Passion of the Christ" that was both hailed and criticized. There are some theological difficulties with the movie. I have heard it said, for instance, that the Christ shed so much blood in this movie that he died three times over. While the amount of blood shed was meaningful to an understanding that it was by His blood that we are saved, the notion that no human being could have lived through that blood loss and made it to the cross gave the impression that Christ was some sort of super human. We might like to think this at times, but let us remember that the truth of the incarnation is just this fact - that Christ became a man like you and like me. There was nothing supernatural about the beating he received, save the faith he had to keep him on that cross. Physically speaking, he died as any other man in his condition would have died under the same set of circumstances. We have to remember this because his true humanity is crucial to our salvation.
Having said that, I think that Gibson's sacramental theology is "spot on," as the English are fond of saying. If you remember, during the crucifixion scene, the picture cut back and forth between the events on Golgotha and the scene the night before in the upper room when Jesus was breaking bread with his disciples. As Jesus' hands were nailed to the cross, the scene cut to Jesus taking the bread. As the cross was raised up, the scene cut to Jesus raising the bread. As the blood dripped from his hands, the scene cut to show the wine. "This is my body," Jesus said, "given for you."
This scene brilliantly showed the beautiful truth that the Fathers wrote about, namely that the actions of Jesus in the upper room cannot be understood apart from his actions on Golgotha. In other words, Jesus is doing the same thing on Friday that he did on Thursday night. And this understanding further undergirds the understanding that Christ is somehow truly and mystically present in our celebration of the Eucharist. Not that he is crucified again, somehow transported to each of our churches, but rather that we are transported back 2000 years to that rock in the shape of a skull. That seeing the bread raised and the cup of wine, we are seeing our savior, "the Lamb standing as though slain," as John puts it. And that by partaking of the bread and wine, we are made one with him, one with his death, and one with his life.
Showing posts with label Sacrament. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sacrament. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Mystagogy
In the fourth century, in the years following the Edict of Milan - the pronouncement by Emperor Constantine that Christianity was now an officially recognized religion and could therefore no longer be legally persecuted - a new genre of Christian literature began to emerge called Mystagogy. These were a series of lectures which were given to catechumens to explain to them the significance of sacramental acts like baptism, eucharist, chrism, etc. These lectures, in other words, introduced the neophytes into the mysteries of the Church, heretofore unknown to them.
In the process of catechesis, a candidate for baptism would learn all about the story of Scripture, he or she would learn the meaning of the different beliefs, the expectations of the Church - that one would engage in works of charity, etc. - perhaps the history and story of some of the saints, and other meaningful and important information. However, the catechumens would never learn about the sacraments for these were mysteries and were saved for baptized persons only.
Thus, the beginning of the Eucharistic liturgy, 'The Liturgy of the Faithful' as it was formerly called, was marked when the president of the congregation would shout: "The doors! The doors!" All the unbaptized would be escorted outside the Church to the porch and the doors would quickly be shut before the blessed host was brought out. No one in the outside world knew what went on inside those doors. As a result, nasty rumors began to circulate that the Christians were cannabals, eating on the flesh of babies. The first person to reveal what went on was the second century apologist Justin Martyr, who revealed some of the secrets so that the rumors would be shown to be false. But many Christians, I am told, were non plussed with his actions. These mysteries were sacred. Pearls that were not to be thrown to swine.
Still not until the Mystagogies do we get a glimpse into the deep, significant meaning that the early Christians placed on these mysterious acts. For in these sacramental acts, their salvation - and salvation history and the salvation of the world - was enacted. To be baptized is to cross the Red Sea into the promised land and to enter into the courts of the heavenly king. To put on the new white robe after baptism is to put on the garments of the new man, the wedding garments that would make one fit to attend the wedding feast of heaven. To feast on the Eucharist is to take the body of Christ into yourself, to become one with God.
Significantly, the catechumens were not instructed on the meaning of the sacramental acts until after they had gone through them. The ancients, unlike us, did not believe that one had to understand something cognitively before he or she could experience it. By the time they understood that baptism was the holy act of passing into the promised land, those catechumens were already sitting at the wedding feast and were becoming one with their God. For only such a one as this was worthy to know the mysteries.
In the process of catechesis, a candidate for baptism would learn all about the story of Scripture, he or she would learn the meaning of the different beliefs, the expectations of the Church - that one would engage in works of charity, etc. - perhaps the history and story of some of the saints, and other meaningful and important information. However, the catechumens would never learn about the sacraments for these were mysteries and were saved for baptized persons only.
Thus, the beginning of the Eucharistic liturgy, 'The Liturgy of the Faithful' as it was formerly called, was marked when the president of the congregation would shout: "The doors! The doors!" All the unbaptized would be escorted outside the Church to the porch and the doors would quickly be shut before the blessed host was brought out. No one in the outside world knew what went on inside those doors. As a result, nasty rumors began to circulate that the Christians were cannabals, eating on the flesh of babies. The first person to reveal what went on was the second century apologist Justin Martyr, who revealed some of the secrets so that the rumors would be shown to be false. But many Christians, I am told, were non plussed with his actions. These mysteries were sacred. Pearls that were not to be thrown to swine.
Still not until the Mystagogies do we get a glimpse into the deep, significant meaning that the early Christians placed on these mysterious acts. For in these sacramental acts, their salvation - and salvation history and the salvation of the world - was enacted. To be baptized is to cross the Red Sea into the promised land and to enter into the courts of the heavenly king. To put on the new white robe after baptism is to put on the garments of the new man, the wedding garments that would make one fit to attend the wedding feast of heaven. To feast on the Eucharist is to take the body of Christ into yourself, to become one with God.
Significantly, the catechumens were not instructed on the meaning of the sacramental acts until after they had gone through them. The ancients, unlike us, did not believe that one had to understand something cognitively before he or she could experience it. By the time they understood that baptism was the holy act of passing into the promised land, those catechumens were already sitting at the wedding feast and were becoming one with their God. For only such a one as this was worthy to know the mysteries.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
The Rich Symbolism of Baptism
One of the most contentious issues in the church today is baptism. "Should we sprinkle?" "Should we immerse?" "Do you have to be baptized to be saved?" "Should we baptize infants?" "Should we re-baptize?" And around and around we go. Unfortunately, our hangups on these issues cause us to miss the deep theological beauty that is signified in baptism.
In three Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) we have the account of Jesus submitting to the baptism by John. This is strong evidence that one of the earliest memories of Christ was his being baptized. Perhaps it was the first public act that anyone witnessed Jesus do. Baptism in Judaism was the way that Gentile converts (Godfearers) could enter the fold of Judaism. It symbolized a passing through water, much like the Hebrew slaves passed through the Red Sea in their Exodus from Egypt and passed through the Jordan in their march into the Promised Land. Significantly, Jesus is baptized in the Jordan, thus sanctifying the act as a Christian sacrament. Matthew records that Jesus' last command to his disciples was: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Mt 28:19). So, then, one of our earliest liturgical, Trinitarian creeds, comes in the context of baptism.
The early Christians developed the theology around this earliest of Christian rites. The writer of 1 Peter, for example, sees in baptism an antitype of the Ark: ". . . God's patience waited in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water. Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ" (1 Pt 3:20-21).
Paul, though capable of the Jewish connection of baptism to the crossing of the Red Sea (1 Cor 10:1-2), he rather prefers baptism as the symbol of our dying with Christ and so rising with him in new life: "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his" (Rom 6:3-5). Such imagery does likely not originate with Paul, but is taken from the rite of baptism itself that developed early in the history of the church: on Easter Sunday, all of the catechumens were taken to a river, stripped naked, and descended into the water (symbolizing death). When they came out of the water, they were given white robes (symbolizing new life). As Paul says later in the same letter: "But put on the Lord Jesus Christ . . ." (Rom 13:14).
As theology and Christian thought developed, the dominate connection to baptism became circumcision. That is the mark that God commanded Abraham and all male Jews after him to receive as a sign that they were in the covenant and, thus, a sign of their salvation. Corresponding to this, baptism became the mark that one was in the new covenantal people of God, the Church, and, thus, was also a sign of their salvation.
I think that there is truth in all of these metaphors, each displaying a different facet of the wonderful sacrament that has been given the Church in baptism. What I think interesting about the circumcision comparison, and I will conclude with this, is that Christians, as they always did and do, appropriated the metaphor through the lens of Christ. In other words, circumcision, as is obvious, only involved the male. Therefore, a female's part in the covenant came through her participation in the lineage as a mother or daughter. (Incidentally, this is why widows and orphans are such a problem in the Old Covenant.) Yet, as strong as the correlation between baptism and circumcision became in the Church, this distinction of sexes (to the detriment of women) was never held. Baptism, as such, is the same rite for both men and women. Both descend into the water, and so die, and both ascend out of the water into newness of life with Jesus Christ.
In three Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) we have the account of Jesus submitting to the baptism by John. This is strong evidence that one of the earliest memories of Christ was his being baptized. Perhaps it was the first public act that anyone witnessed Jesus do. Baptism in Judaism was the way that Gentile converts (Godfearers) could enter the fold of Judaism. It symbolized a passing through water, much like the Hebrew slaves passed through the Red Sea in their Exodus from Egypt and passed through the Jordan in their march into the Promised Land. Significantly, Jesus is baptized in the Jordan, thus sanctifying the act as a Christian sacrament. Matthew records that Jesus' last command to his disciples was: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Mt 28:19). So, then, one of our earliest liturgical, Trinitarian creeds, comes in the context of baptism.
The early Christians developed the theology around this earliest of Christian rites. The writer of 1 Peter, for example, sees in baptism an antitype of the Ark: ". . . God's patience waited in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water. Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ" (1 Pt 3:20-21).
Paul, though capable of the Jewish connection of baptism to the crossing of the Red Sea (1 Cor 10:1-2), he rather prefers baptism as the symbol of our dying with Christ and so rising with him in new life: "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his" (Rom 6:3-5). Such imagery does likely not originate with Paul, but is taken from the rite of baptism itself that developed early in the history of the church: on Easter Sunday, all of the catechumens were taken to a river, stripped naked, and descended into the water (symbolizing death). When they came out of the water, they were given white robes (symbolizing new life). As Paul says later in the same letter: "But put on the Lord Jesus Christ . . ." (Rom 13:14).
As theology and Christian thought developed, the dominate connection to baptism became circumcision. That is the mark that God commanded Abraham and all male Jews after him to receive as a sign that they were in the covenant and, thus, a sign of their salvation. Corresponding to this, baptism became the mark that one was in the new covenantal people of God, the Church, and, thus, was also a sign of their salvation.
I think that there is truth in all of these metaphors, each displaying a different facet of the wonderful sacrament that has been given the Church in baptism. What I think interesting about the circumcision comparison, and I will conclude with this, is that Christians, as they always did and do, appropriated the metaphor through the lens of Christ. In other words, circumcision, as is obvious, only involved the male. Therefore, a female's part in the covenant came through her participation in the lineage as a mother or daughter. (Incidentally, this is why widows and orphans are such a problem in the Old Covenant.) Yet, as strong as the correlation between baptism and circumcision became in the Church, this distinction of sexes (to the detriment of women) was never held. Baptism, as such, is the same rite for both men and women. Both descend into the water, and so die, and both ascend out of the water into newness of life with Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
The Sacrament of Marriage
Three years ago today, I stood before the church with my fiance Julie Graff and repeated the sacred marriage vows. Largely due to the influence of J.D. Walt, my pastor from Asbury and the man who was leading us through the vows, I had already begun to think of marriage in terms of a sacrament. The sacraments are "perceptible signs (words and actions) accessible to our human nature. By the action of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit they make present efficaciously the grace that they signify" (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1084). In other words, they are an outward sign of an inward grace, those acts or "means of grace" by which we experience the grace of God in a special, tangible manner. Generally speaking, Protestant traditions have limited the sacraments to two, namely Baptism and the Eucharist, as these are the two signifying acts, which were instituted by Christ. The Catholic and Orthodox Churches, following practices of the early church and a strong cohesive tradition, recognize several more, of which marriage is one.
My belief in the sacramentality of marriage was being formed by the manner in which I was reading Scripture. I was coming to see, more fully than I ever had before, that the covenant that God formed with humanity, first with Israel through Abraham (Gen. 12.1-3) - more fully explained in the Sinai Covenant (Exod. 20ff) - and with all humanity in Jesus Christ, was portrayed by the writers of Scripture as a marriage covenant. God pledges to his people his enduring faithfulness, not on the basis of any work or merit that his people provide him, but on the simple fact that he loves them and chooses to covenant with them. Thus, the Old Testament speaks in the most intimate of terms of God's love. When Israel goes astray, he is jealous for them. Their apostasy is most often characterized as adultery - Israel plays the whore to other gods. The most stunning depiction of this love is the book of Hosea, where Hosea relentlessly pursues his wife Gomer despite the fact that she is prostituting herself to other men. He finally is forced to buy her back, though she is already rightfully his. And despite her cruel unfaithfulness, Hosea never ceases from his pursuit of her.
The New Testament continues the metaphor referring to the People of God often as the Bride of Christ. Christ is pictured as the Bridegroom who is betrothed to his people in his life, death, and resurrection. The Apostle Paul never speaks of marriage without immediately moving to the relationship of Christ and the Church. The time between Christ's first advent and second advent has been interpreted by many theologians as a time of preparation for the bride. The Church is being sanctified to be fully joined with Christ in the Eschaton. Thus, the preferred image of heaven in the New Testament is a wedding feast.
In marriage, a man and a woman vow to love one another not on the basis of anything that the other can offer but on the basis of unconditional love. This is why the vows say, "for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health". The point is that it is not about what one can do for the other - it is rather the enduring, faithful love for the other that ratifies the covenant. As imperfect humans, we are truly incapable of this kind of love, and this is why marriage often fails, even with the best of intentions. Yet, husbands and wives that stay together, that truly enact the vows they proclaim to one another, witness to a love that is nothing short of divine, for it mirrors the love that our Heavenly Father, our Bridegroom, shows to us. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church so elegantly puts it: "The entire Christian life bears the mark of the spousal love of Christ and the Church. Already Baptism, the entry into the People of God, is a nuptial mystery; it is so to speak the nuptial bath which precedes the wedding feast, the Eucharist. Christian marriage in its turn becomes an efficacious sign, the sacrament of the covenant of Christ and the Church. Since it signifies and communicates grace, marriage between baptized persons is a true sacrament of the New Covenant" (1617).
Of course, this is all good in theory, and on the day of my wedding I could only think in theory because I had never been married. The fact that I have learned over three years is that marriage is hard! It is hard to love for worse, for poorer (ask my wife who has supported us for three years!), and in sickness. The romantic love characterized in the movies is not the prevalent experience of marriage partners - how can it be when one sees all the faults of the other in their rawest sense? The worst things that we do and think cannot be hidden from the other in a true marriage.
And yet I have found that this raw reality of marriage is actually a better sign of the love of God than anything portrayed for us in the movies. For movie love is based on a feeling, and feelings that are strong one day can be just as equally missing the next. Marriage love is based on a covenant, a covenant that does not falter when the other does nothing to deserve love. And in my marriage, I find myself loved and pursued by my wife in times when I am a miserable wretch, when there is absolutely nothing lovable about me. And I'm sure she would say the same. It is the covenant that endures and it is the covenant that makes the feelings of love meaningful.
And isn't that a perfect picture of the love of God? How can God continue to love us and pursue us when we are such miserable people, when we are such a miserable Church? He does because the covenant is based on his love and faithfulness, not on our own. I am immensely thankful, on this 14th of August, that I have a God who loves me so deeply. And I am immensely thankful that I have a wife, a partner in covenant, whose love for me witnesses to the Father's love in a manner that I never could have understood - and probably never fully will. I can only hope that she has the same experience of me.
"Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church-- for we are members of his body. 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' This is a profound mystery-- but I am talking about Christ and the church." -Ephesians 5:25-32
My belief in the sacramentality of marriage was being formed by the manner in which I was reading Scripture. I was coming to see, more fully than I ever had before, that the covenant that God formed with humanity, first with Israel through Abraham (Gen. 12.1-3) - more fully explained in the Sinai Covenant (Exod. 20ff) - and with all humanity in Jesus Christ, was portrayed by the writers of Scripture as a marriage covenant. God pledges to his people his enduring faithfulness, not on the basis of any work or merit that his people provide him, but on the simple fact that he loves them and chooses to covenant with them. Thus, the Old Testament speaks in the most intimate of terms of God's love. When Israel goes astray, he is jealous for them. Their apostasy is most often characterized as adultery - Israel plays the whore to other gods. The most stunning depiction of this love is the book of Hosea, where Hosea relentlessly pursues his wife Gomer despite the fact that she is prostituting herself to other men. He finally is forced to buy her back, though she is already rightfully his. And despite her cruel unfaithfulness, Hosea never ceases from his pursuit of her.
The New Testament continues the metaphor referring to the People of God often as the Bride of Christ. Christ is pictured as the Bridegroom who is betrothed to his people in his life, death, and resurrection. The Apostle Paul never speaks of marriage without immediately moving to the relationship of Christ and the Church. The time between Christ's first advent and second advent has been interpreted by many theologians as a time of preparation for the bride. The Church is being sanctified to be fully joined with Christ in the Eschaton. Thus, the preferred image of heaven in the New Testament is a wedding feast.
In marriage, a man and a woman vow to love one another not on the basis of anything that the other can offer but on the basis of unconditional love. This is why the vows say, "for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health". The point is that it is not about what one can do for the other - it is rather the enduring, faithful love for the other that ratifies the covenant. As imperfect humans, we are truly incapable of this kind of love, and this is why marriage often fails, even with the best of intentions. Yet, husbands and wives that stay together, that truly enact the vows they proclaim to one another, witness to a love that is nothing short of divine, for it mirrors the love that our Heavenly Father, our Bridegroom, shows to us. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church so elegantly puts it: "The entire Christian life bears the mark of the spousal love of Christ and the Church. Already Baptism, the entry into the People of God, is a nuptial mystery; it is so to speak the nuptial bath which precedes the wedding feast, the Eucharist. Christian marriage in its turn becomes an efficacious sign, the sacrament of the covenant of Christ and the Church. Since it signifies and communicates grace, marriage between baptized persons is a true sacrament of the New Covenant" (1617).
Of course, this is all good in theory, and on the day of my wedding I could only think in theory because I had never been married. The fact that I have learned over three years is that marriage is hard! It is hard to love for worse, for poorer (ask my wife who has supported us for three years!), and in sickness. The romantic love characterized in the movies is not the prevalent experience of marriage partners - how can it be when one sees all the faults of the other in their rawest sense? The worst things that we do and think cannot be hidden from the other in a true marriage.
And yet I have found that this raw reality of marriage is actually a better sign of the love of God than anything portrayed for us in the movies. For movie love is based on a feeling, and feelings that are strong one day can be just as equally missing the next. Marriage love is based on a covenant, a covenant that does not falter when the other does nothing to deserve love. And in my marriage, I find myself loved and pursued by my wife in times when I am a miserable wretch, when there is absolutely nothing lovable about me. And I'm sure she would say the same. It is the covenant that endures and it is the covenant that makes the feelings of love meaningful.
And isn't that a perfect picture of the love of God? How can God continue to love us and pursue us when we are such miserable people, when we are such a miserable Church? He does because the covenant is based on his love and faithfulness, not on our own. I am immensely thankful, on this 14th of August, that I have a God who loves me so deeply. And I am immensely thankful that I have a wife, a partner in covenant, whose love for me witnesses to the Father's love in a manner that I never could have understood - and probably never fully will. I can only hope that she has the same experience of me.
"Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church-- for we are members of his body. 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' This is a profound mystery-- but I am talking about Christ and the church." -Ephesians 5:25-32
Sunday, July 15, 2007
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.
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.
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