Wholehearted Diet

What makes for a good diet? As a child growing up in the days of the food pyramid, I recall that whole grains, fruits and vegetables, meat, and dairy were the core components of healthy eating. My parents instilled in me the goal of eating a balanced meal with foods from these four main food groups. When I went off to college I can remember being a bit overwhelmed though with the dining hall options.

McClurg Dining Hall—the cafeteria at Sewanee—provided a wealth of eating options: A home line with comfort foods like casseroles and mac n’ cheese, an Asian line with made-to-order stir fry options, a grill line with hot dogs, hamburgers, and fries, a salad bar, a sandwich bar, and a dessert bar! This does not even cover the wealth of back up options like a waffle bar, various cereals, numerous drinks, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The fifteen pounds I quickly gained at college were primarily from the wealth of choices, although I blamed it on wanting to bulk up to play college soccer… haha, yeah right! I can remember struggling that first year to make sure I ate balanced, healthy meals. There were even moments when I felt a little bad about not eating enough good stuff. Sound familiar?

In today’s Gospel lesson (Mark 7:14-23) Jesus has some concerns about people’s diets, but not in the way that I was concerned in college. The scribes and Pharisees—well-meaning religious folk of Jesus’ day—had become fixated on eating the right things. They even believed if people ate the wrong thing—something defiled, prepared with unclean hands, or not ceremonially washed—then it made someone unclean or bad. Jesus using basic anatomy outlined that food did not corrupt one’s heart, as it travels through the stomach and into the sewer—not into one’s heart. Even if we think we have surpassed this mistaken idea that some foods are bad, we only need to google diet books to find thousands of dieticians laying out what is good and what is bad. So what do we do?
Jesus challenges us to observe a different spiritual diet, instead of concentrating solely on what we eat. Of course, certain foods may not agree with us. Sure, some people are allergic or sensitive to certain items. Yes, particular foods provide a greater nutritional punch than others. Still, Jesus warns against believing that food makes one good or bad, instead of seeing how the actions of someone point back to the health of one’s heart.

We have all heard of a heart-healthy diet, well what about a whole-hearted-diet? Jesus laid out those terrible behaviors that stem from being corrupted within one’s heart—fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly—but these are not default behaviors. How does one end up acting in such a way? Or, better yet, how does one live whole-heartedly instead of greedily or sinfully? Augustine of Hippo may help us out here.

Augustine was a man who lived his early adult life pretty dangerously. He kept on searching for God in places that were not sustaining and life-giving. Eventually though he found that living a selfish life may have provided fun activities, but it was devoid of any spiritual nutrition! After a profound conversion he wrote, “My heart will not rest until it rests in God.” He succinctly described the way we might have a spiritually rich diet—not by filling up with things that lack any real substance, but by resting in God first.

That long list of terrible things that Jesus outlined for us all seem to be symptoms of the same problem. Today we might describe them as addictions, but all of these negative actions are truly ways that we avoid growing closer to God—ways in which we avoid that rest when our souls rest in God. This is the true challenge of living a spiritually rich life. We must start not with good actions, but with the truth that God loves us first and our souls’ homes are resting in God. Once we reside there our actions will fruitfully stem from that place of immediate and transcendent love.

How’s your diet? Not the one focused on food, but the one that comes from your heart? God invites us to start by resting our hearts in Him. Then, we will discover that those actions through which we sought to fill an aching void (things like envy, deceit, or pride) will no longer be hungering—for God will have filled the otherwise unquenchable places within us. That is how we will have a spiritually rich life by starting with our hearts resting in God.

There’s A Catch

On Sunday night over 100 million people tuned in to watch Super Bowl XLII. What many deemed an instant classic could have just as easily devolved into a rage-inducing bummer of a contest. The Philadelphia Eagles scored on not one but two touchdown catches that tip-toed a thin line between what the National Football League calls a catch and what anyone with firing synapses would call a catch. Fortunately for everyone—except the New England Patriots and their fans—the two plays held up, even after official reviews. These plays in the Super Bowl though, stirred up a multi-season long debate that has mixed the gladiatorial with the philosophical, as jocks and league officials attempt to define what makes a catch a catch. A sporting body wondering what is and is not a catch has left many scratching their heads and even more flipping the channel. Still the question remains what makes a catch a catch?

Does a player have to maintain control even to the ground? How many feet does the player have to get in bounds? How about the football does it merely have to cross the plain of the goal line if the catch is to turn into a touchdown catch? Seemingly the list of questions goes on and on, and yet, all of this makes way too complicated something that ought to be simple.

There’s a saying recently repeated by a player on the winning side of the Super Bowl that applies to this gray-area of a sport: “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck!” (Otherwise known as “The Duck Rule”) This saying though applies to more than simply the rules of a game. It could just as easily apply to taking care of others as we live into the reign of Jesus, the Kingdom of God, and life in Christ!

In today’s Gospel lesson (Mark 7:1-13) the scribes and Pharisees have a problem with Jesus’ disciples. The tradition of the day stated that good followers of the Law would not eat with defiled hands, eat out of dirty dishes, or consume anything from the market that had not been cleaned. All of this seems good enough—and certainly practical enough; however, Jesus had a problem with the scribes and Pharisees criticizing his disciples. His problem though was not as much with the letter of the Law, as it was with the spirit of it.

Jesus saw those obsessed over religious law like many today might see the ridiculousness of several pages of rules to define a catch or a multi-million dollar study to tell us what a duck is. To Jesus the scribes and Pharisees had substituted the man-made practices for the God given commandments. In particular, Jesus struggled with the hypocrisy of one rule.

In this passage, Jesus pointed out the hypocrisy of obsessing over human procedure, like dirty dishes, instead of focusing on the weightier matters, like caring for the needy. Jesus used the practice of Corban to highlight how the religion of the day focused on selfish gain instead of selfless service. Corban in itself was a good thing, it was an offering to God. However, if giving that offering neglected one’s responsibilities of taking care of an aging family, then how could one possibly be doing the will of God?

When we focus upon the commandments of God we will always bring our humanity into it, but what must we do to ensure that we are not preferring our rules and traditions to taking care of the needy among us? Jesus would not advocate for ignoring one’s family, nor would he advocate ignoring giving to the work of God in this world. So, what must we do?

Following Jesus is hard. If people tell you it is easy they are lying to you or to themselves. To take care of one’s own affairs, one’s own family, and make an offering of love and thanks to God requires sacrifice. In fact though, if one goes about it earnestly one will discover that while it is difficult it is abundantly life-giving!

One might mistakenly hear in this reading that Jesus tells us to ignore tithing or giving altogether, but this is simply not the case. We are called to challenge our priorities and to give our first fruits to God proportionally and sacrificially. Then, we will find in that giving that our lives open up to how God transforms everything else into being enough for us. Selfish religious folks will very well advocate for the giving to the Church not because it would grow someone’s relationship with God, but because they selfishly wanted more for themselves. When we prioritize God first, our beloveds’ needs next, and everything else afterward we discover a great abundance in our lives.

We may fight all day long over what a catch is or is not, just like we might quibble over what are God’s commandments and what are human traditions; however, Jesus seems to have his own version of the duck test. He seems to say if it is about caring for the needy in this world, if it is about giving love to others, and if it is about sharing Good News, then it is God’s commandment. May we hold on to God’s commandments even if it means abandoning some of our traditions in the process!

Wait for the Lord

The Song of Simeon from Evening Prayer in the Book of Common Prayer

Maundy Thursday is still 57 days away—can you tell our staff had an all-day, 18-month calendar planning meeting today? Why bring up Maundy Thursday? Well, because that day during Holy Week when we remember Jesus’ commandment to love and his last supper with beloved friends taught me much about waiting.

Generally, I am terrible at waiting. Standstill traffic unleashes a beast within me. Some people believe I naturally took to Centering Prayer, but partially I practice it because it challenges my desire to go, do, and accomplish that often removes me from moments where relationships are formed. I am much more Martha than I am Mary, do-er rather than be-er. The Maundy Thursday service at St. Andrew’s, Birmingham where I grew up taught me how to wait though.

At the end of the Maundy Thursday service the lights are dimmed, all signs of the cross are covered, the altar is stripped, and the church is left bare. Once all of this ritual takes place at St. Andrew’s the congregation keeps watch. The entire night parishioners pray in the side chapel as they join Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. My family would take an early watch, then go out for pizza afterward. Inadvertently or perhaps intentionally, my mom was incentivizing waiting. I learned to like waiting and watching, even if I got easily distracted.

When I went off to college Sewanee had a Gethsemane watch as well. Wanting to be a “cool” college kid I would take one of the late night/early morning spots each year. Waiting and watching does not come easily to me, nor does staying up to ridiculous hours. This practice gave me a tiny glimpse though into the life of Simeon who we read about in today’s Gospel lesson.

We are celebrating the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord this evening. This moment when Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the Temple to be purified as was in the Law of Moses. They offered the sacrifice. Then, they handed Jesus over to a man who had spent his entire life waiting. Simeon waited for the consolation of Israel. Simeon waited for the coming of the Messiah. Simeon waited for Jesus. I have a difficult time imagining the patience that Simeon possessed. He waited his whole life for this one tiny, shining moment! Perhaps even more remarkable was that he knew it when it happened.

Simeon understood, as this child rest in his arms that this was the moment he had been waiting for his entire life. On top of his great patience was his ability to recognize. He was aware enough to see that though this was a child he was the Messiah. All of this patient observance wrapped into one person definitely deserves celebrating. Maybe this is why we say or sing the Song of Simeon in Evening Prayer and Compline. His words serve as a reminder that we are all called to wait and watch for the Lord, and just maybe we have caught a glimpse of Christ in our midst this day.

The youth in the Diocese of Alabama have a particularly beautiful setting of the following words:

Lord, you now have set your servant free *
   to go in peace as you have promised;

For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
   whom you have prepared for all the world to see:

A Light to enlighten the nations, *
   and the glory of your people Israel.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
   as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.

(Book of Common Prayer, 135).

When I sing these words and think about what Simeon did, I find myself marveling at the opportunity that lay ahead of all of us—right here in the present moment. Each of us is called to be like Simeon. Even if we are bad at waiting, even if we have to bribe ourselves with pizza to learn how to wait better, even if we think it will kill us we are called to wait and watch for Christ coming to us.

Simeon shows us that a lifetime of servanthood waiting and watching is worth it. As we wait may God give us freedom, peace, eyes to see a Savior who will enlighten the whole earth! Let us wait for the Lord and may we see God coming to us.

Knowledge Puffs Up, But Love Builds Up

How do we cure an unclean spirit? Hint: not Tide Pods!

I had a great big smile on my face on Thursday afternoon. You see, I finished my last session on the Diocesan Council. Essentially this body functions as the vestry of the diocese. I loved being on it, but unlike our vestry—which is on retreat this weekend—and then only meets for an hour once a month, the Council meets for six hours each month. This doesn’t include the prep time or the drive down to Birmingham or the drive back to Decatur. Council did teach me so much and I am grateful for my time on it. Perhaps the best bit each month was our Bible study.

In this Bible Study we look at the Gospel lesson for the coming Sunday. So on Thursday we looked at this passage from Mark’s Gospel account. I always hear several astute points and it’s great fun reading Scripture with the bishop, clergy, and lay leaders from all over the state. Someone I greatly admire pointed out that this morning’s passage is all about Jesus’ authority and his authentic identity—who he is as the Son of God. “Yes!” I thought, but then the person continued, that it’s best to leave the demon off to the side… Wait, what? How can we ignore this critical part of the story?

What do you think of demons? Do they exist? This is the Episcopal Church. We often hold up the image of a three-legged stool based upon Richard Hooker’s theology. The crucial tenants are Scripture, Tradition, and REASON. REASONable persons cannot believe in demons can they? What are demons anyway? Are they mental illness? That seems too simplistic. Are they creatures with horns and pointy ears? That seems too hokey. So what are they? Some describe them as forces of evil that oppose the will of God. Evil forces that oppose the will of God does not sound all that far-fetched.

If we look more closely at today’s lesson though we do not see any demons, we merely see a man with an unclean spirit. This begs several questions, “What is an unclean spirit?” “Is it like a demon?” “How does one spirit get unclean?” “Or, how might the evil force make someone unclean?” Perhaps more importantly we may wonder if one’s spirit is unclean how does one make it clean again? We cannot drop off our souls at the dry cleaners and return in three days to find it fresh and new. Maybe an unclean spirit is why all these crazy people on YouTube have been eating Tide detergent Pods. All joking aside, how does one clean one’s unclean spirit? This story helps us to understand that it is through Jesus’ authentic authority that this man with the unclean spirit was made well.

Authority can be a tricky thing. Have you ever had a bad boss? Now listen, I have a great boss. If you leave here saying one thing please say (to Evan) Seth says he has a great boss! But, in the past I have had a few tough bosses. Mostly what I notice as I look back at them is that I couldn’t take serious their authority. It felt like it was not real. They might point to the rules or the trappings of the office, but they did not have it within them. This story has some of those types of bosses too.

In the synagogue—the gathered body of the faithful people—there were some scribes who did not live with true authority. They were good folk, but they did not have authority. They pointed to the law, they used an extrinsic force to prove people right or wrong, clean or unclean, but they lacked internal power and did not bring the law to life and fulfillment like Jesus. When the man with the unclean spirit came in their midst they probably pointed out why he was unclean, instead of seeking to find healing for him. Jesus though lived differently.

The difference between the scribes and Jesus was obvious to those in the synagogue. They exclaimed that Jesus taught with authority, but his authority was not simply smoke and mirrors. The section from Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians sums this up well, “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” Jesus could have used knowledge to run circles around others familiar with the Law, and yet he yearned not for winning arguments but for winning hearts. He had compassion on the man who was suffering and through love brought him to healing. This is how the unclean becomes clean through love.

So, do you believe in demons? Do they exist? If they are not creepy characters and are truly forces of evil that oppose the will of God, then I have to tell you they are real! We do not have to look far afield to find them either. Thumbing through the news this week we find evil all over: a gymnastics trainer who abused over 150 girls, terrorist organizations racking up higher and higher death tolls, and environmental degradation leading to catastrophic water shortages just to name three. What are we to do in the face of these evil forces?

While knowledge is crucial for us to bring about positive change in this world, we must not rely upon it alone to oppose the forces of evil. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Instead of trying to win fights by using more knowledge to prove others wrong, when we see those evil forces all around us we are called to fight evil with love. This is the way that we will destroy these forces that oppose God—not by winning enough debates, but by loving those with whom we disagree. Jesus brought healing through his authentic authority as the Son of God. He did this through love. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up, and for that thanks be to God.

Authority

Jesus healing the man with the unclean spirit in the synagogue at Capernaum.

Often the theme of a Gospel lesson will so jump off the page that a preacher need only to politely step out of the way, so that the power of Jesus’ words and actions may fully impact the congregation. Like a two foot putt for birdie, a point-blank shot on a goalie-less goal, or a simple one-yard touchdown pass this opportunity may seem too easy to mess up. However, let me assure you that I can (and often do) mess up this simplest of tasks. With this warning in mind, let us take a look at this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

The theme that leaps eagerly off the page in Mark 1:21-28 is Jesus’ authority. In particular Jesus compels listeners and even unclean spirits with merely his words. Jesus’ preaching and exorcism points to the power vested within him. As the synagogue-goers put it, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him” (1:27). The gimme sermon here would outline how Jesus’ authority differs from others, and even now how his power, healing, and dominion still compel all realms of existence. Of course, sometimes preachers (like me) miss the easy sermon going in search of something much more complicated. So what other sermons might flow from this passage?

Early evidence – The first two-thirds of Mark’s Gospel provide an adrenaline rush for the reader. One event bleeds immediately into the next. Not only this, but also one story may in fact be commentary on another. Jesus’ Baptism leads quickly to his temptation in the wilderness, then Jesus inaugurates his public ministry with a message of repentance, which quickly turns into his calling of Simon, Andrew, James, and John as his first disciples. Through God's calling Jesus overcomes temptation and he begins his own ministry by calling others to take part in what he has undergone! The disciple's first taste of Jesus’ leadership comes in the synagogue teaching and encounter with the unclean spirit. For those who had just left the safety and security of home and work this authoritative action in the synagogue would be early evidence of what the reader knows from the very beginning of Mark’s telling of the Good News: Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. A preacher could build the case with this early evidence that Jesus truly is the Son of God.

Unclean spirit(s)? – The narrator describes the man in the synagogue as having an unclean spirit, but the way the spirit talks points to something different. As Jesus approached the man, the spirit cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God” (1:24 italics added for emphasis). Is more than one spirit present? Perhaps. Another way of seeing this might provide for a fruitful sermon. The unclean spirit and the man have become so interwoven that the spirit speaks in the personal plural form for it and the man. Does Jesus have the power to cast out the spirit without the man being harmed? Yes! How are the unhealthy parts of ourselves called to be cast out? What part of us does Jesus yearn to heal? These are worthwhile questions to pursue if a sermon on healing attracts the preacher.

The healing power of silence – One could also focus on how Jesus rebukes the spirit. Was it by force? Speaking in tongues? Angels with the weapons of heaven? Nope! Through his words Jesus invokes the power of silence. Jesus commands the spirit to be silent and come out of the man. Sure, the spirit causes the man to cry out in a loud voice; however, the healing happens. Plus, the result of the crowds could have very well been a stunned silence in the synagogue before everyone began losing their minds over what Jesus did. A sermon on the profundity of silence could arise from the way through which Jesus healed this man.

Authority 2.0 – Although perhaps the most obvious path to approach Jesus’ healing in the synagogue hones in on the two mentions of his authority (in comparison with the scribes and as a result of his healing of the man with the unclean spirit), but a more robust sermon might engage asking the question, "From where does this authority really emerge?" How do we see people in positions of authority today—especially thinking that the world is becoming more and more wary of traditional seats of authority (government, religion, and other institutions)? How does Jesus’ authority speak for itself? In what ways does Jesus claim authority in our lives? These are just a few questions that I am pondering this week as I feel drawn into exploring how God’s authority resists coercion and instead compels us through healing and transformation.

While this week’s text (like many in Mark) appears straightforward, the preacher has multiple opportunities to walk faithfully on a path that illuminates this early example of Jesus’ authority as the Son of God.

Think Inside The Box

Sometimes it is thinking inside the box that changes the world!

On Sunday morning in our articles class we read a piece from The New York Times written by David Brooks entitled, “How Would Jesus Drive?” Pope Francis’ New Year’s Eve address inspired the column. While I found the piece humorous, what sticks with me stems from Brooks’ channeling of the papal invitation to be “artisans of the good,” who look for ways every day to enact small actions of kindness. Sometimes though, when we gather here on Tuesdays or Wednesdays to celebrate Holy Communion we may miss this invitation.

Our midweek Eucharistic feasts so often center around the lives of those holy ones who have reflected the light of Christ within their own day. Even though we do our best to remember that these folks are just like you and me, we just as readily put “saints” up on a pedestal. In all honesty, many of the people we remember have done remarkable—nearly impossible—things that I could never do on my own. Each holy woman and each holy man we recall though would—most likely—point (quickly) away from their own lives and towards the life of Christ. Still, I find that on the whole we do a miserable job of truly believing that the people in The Great Cloud of Witnesses and Lesser Feasts and Fasts do not walk a few feet off the ground. Today’s Gospel lesson and the person whom the Church celebrates help me to demystify the aura of sainthood, such that I might see how powerful small acts can be.

Julia Chester Emery served as National Secretary of the Women's Auxiliary of the Board of Missions for forty years in the late 1800s and early 1900s. This notable office took her to every Episcopal Diocese and many parts of the Anglican world abroad. While we might think this lengthy tenure raises her stature to some overly lofty level, I find that what stands out about Emery’s life comes in that she was not lording her position over others. Instead, Emery used that office as an opportunity to serve. She modeled her own ministry after that of a humble servant not worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of another’s sandal. But, even more than her faithful service was a small profound gift that she gave the Church that we still celebrate to this day.

Often in the world we tell people who want to do something grand to think outside the box, but Julia Chester Emery thought inside the box, so that she might change the way women in the Church affect Jesus’ mission and ministry in this world. Emery creatively envisioned the United Thank Offering (UTO). As you may know twice a year we celebrate an UTO ingathering in which we collect little cardboard boxes. At first Emery gave this out to the Episcopal Church Women as a way to create more funds for mission, but even more than that as a way to practice gratitude on a daily basis.

Emery gifted us through the UTO ingathering an opportunity to practice gratitude on a daily basis. She encouraged her members in the Auxiliary to put a few coins into their cardboard boxes anytime they felt thankful for something. I would extend this small gesture a little further. In this practice we are invited on a daily basis to pause—maybe at the dinner table or when we are getting ready for bed—to take a moment to count our blessings. One of my mentors, the Rev. Annwn Myers put it this way, “As we remember our own blessings, those blessings turn into someone else’s blessings!” God’s reign works in this way, doesn’t it?

The way that Jesus showed through his life leads us into an abundance that overwhelms us. As we begin by counting our blessings and practicing gratitude what we find may be truly life-changing. Julia Chester Emery models for us that we do not need to be Jesus, resurrect the dead, turn water into wine, feed the masses from nothing, or perform miracles. No, as Pope Francis reminded the Christian world at the end of last year, we are called to be artisans of the good who find small ways to be kind. In this season after Epiphany when we receive the light of Christ God calls us to perform small acts of bearing the light with others. We may do this in countless ways: being a good driver, going out of our way to serve someone else, treating an irritating person with kindness, seeing in another the shining beam of Christ’s love, or taking time out to count our blessings, so that they may overflow into other’s lives.

On the Edge

What a joy to welcome John Theodore Olson as a new member in Christ's Body!

The Readings which inspired this sermon were:

• Genesis 1:1-5
• Acts 19:1-7
• Mark 1:4-11
• Psalm 29

If one does not proceed with caution during this time of year, one might develop a severe case of John the Baptist fatigue. Since the start of December we have heard almost every Sunday morning about this unique forerunner to Jesus. What he wore and what he ate stick in our minds like an article from People magazine detailing a celebrity party. The baptizer donned a custom camel’s hair suit fitted with a vintage leather belt. He noshed on a minimalist paleo diet of free range locusts and organic wild honey.  When we hear the story so often we tune out what is going on and just as importantly we tune out where it is happening.

John the Baptizer appeared in the wilderness. The specific location of that wilderness matters immensely. John baptized those from town and country at the River Jordan. Now, this seemingly mundane detail about the location of John’s baptizing could appear too common to be noteworthy, but in Mark—the briefest of the Gospel accounts—nothing is superfluous data.

Meaning overflows from the Jordan. In particular, this was the border between the barren wilderness and the rich land of milk and honey, promised of old to God’s People. As we remember this story today, we stand on the edge of these same waters, the edge of this border, and the edge between what was promised and what will be fulfilled. We do not stand alone—no, we are here with John and Jesus and all those who came and still come in search of something that cannot be found in the established religion of the day. That is why so many went out to John, isn’t it? To search for something new and fresh and real. What is it precisely though that we are doing here at the edge of these baptismal waters?

We who may love our church and our traditions, what are we doing? The lessons from today lead us toward an answer. Genesis describes the Spirit’s moving over the waters ever since the beginning of Creation. Our Psalm for today celebrates God’s voice upon the waters. The portion we heard from the Acts of the Apostles depicts some followers of John receiving the Spirit in the waters of baptism when Paul ministered in Ephesus. In each of these we find something earthly linked with something that lies beyond the worldly—the sacred mingling with the secular, the divine in the everyday. Of course, the Gospel lesson from Mark most fully exemplifies this: “And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.” Is this why we’re here? To catch a glimpse of God through a thin place? What was really happening with Jesus in that river?

For a long time the Church has argued about whether Jesus “needed” to be baptized by John. Mark’s telling of the story runs somewhat at odds with the others. Matthew tells it as though John would not baptize the one coming after him. Luke does the same. The Fourth Gospel account (the Evangelist John) supposes that Jesus’ baptism happened, but does not describe the event. Here in Mark’s narrative though things appear simpler. After John proclaims his message as the forerunner of the Messiah, Jesus appears to be baptized. Did he need it? Was he with sin before? Was he trying to fit in with the rest of humanity? As frustrating as it is, the text remains silent on these issues. More importantly though, we find something transformative happening as we watch from the edge of the River Jordan.

When Jesus emerged from the murky river a voice declared from heaven, “You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” The holy cut into a simple ritual out on the edge between the civilized and the uncivilized, between what was promised and what will be fulfilled, between what had been and what was to come. God entered into the lives of human beings as they grasped at a new way of approaching their lives. For regardless of what we make of Jesus’ decision to be baptized, the others out in the wilderness around the Jordan were searching for an amendment of life. The message John preached that attracted so many focused upon turning back to God—repenting or refocusing upon the Holy One. This too brings us to the holy waters over which the Spirit still moves.

This morning, John Theodore Olson will be baptized—yes, we related. For many of us raised in the South, this moment collapses upon only one faucet, the aforementioned forgiveness of sins. While I am partial to my son Teddy, I know that he will not be immune to iniquity. He is after all a preacher’s kid—and all of us at some point go astray. But, if one merely believes that baptism is about eternal fire insurance—that is not going to hell—then one has sorely missed what is at the heart of these lessons and what is at heart of God’s love for us.

When Teddy, or anyone else, undergoes the holy gift, the holy sacrament that is Holy Baptism the baptized are forgiven their sins, but something else happens too. When through Christ we celebrate baptism we hear God’s voice adopting the baptized as a beloved child. Yes, there is a turning that presupposes the voice; however, God does not utter from heaven, “Your sins are forgiven.” No, God says, “This is my beloved, in you I am well pleased.” The lesson from the Acts of the Apostles illuminates this truth in a specific manner.

Those in Ephesus got the baptism of repentance from John the Baptizer, but somehow they missed the crucial second step in the process. They had not been baptized with the Holy Spirit. They were ones who had been baptized by the water, but they had avoided somehow the Spirit and the spiritual fire that accompany baptism through Christ. In other words, they had only been focusing on the forgiveness of sins, but they did not hear their rightful calling through Christ. They had not heard the words that God speaks to all of God’s Children, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.”

Some of us too might have missed the Holy Spirit. Like those in Ephesus we might have solely aimed at amending our lives that we did not get the full power of baptism. The gift of initiating and engrafting a new member into the Body of Christ shines both in the freedom that comes with forgiveness and also in the transforming fire from the Spirit. The Holy Spirit gifted those disciples in Ephesus long ago with the abilities of tongues and prophesy—Teddy already has the gift of tongues, as his morning babbling has exemplified. What gifts will the Holy Spirit impart on Teddy in this moment? How will Christ’s Spirit transform us as we welcome this new member? In what ways does the Spirit gift us?

For us to focus only on the forgiveness of sins in this moment of Holy Baptism is to miss half of the Spirit’s powerful gifting. In Baptism the Holy Spirit brings profound, marvelous, world-transforming abilities—how will we receive them? How will you be transformed as you hear God saying to you, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.”?