Identity and Promise - Sermon on Baptism of Our Lord Sunday - Matt. 3:13-17

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" 15 But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.17 And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

SERMON

As pastors, I think we’re discouraged from picking favorites.  I know it’s not the right thing to do, and it’s not fair to give preference to one over another.  But I need to be honest and tell you that I think Baptism is my favorite sacrament of the Lutheran sacraments. At least, for right now.  

To be fair, both sacraments, Baptism and Holy communion are abundant expressions of God’s grace.  In both, the graciousness of God’s mercy and the promise of abundant life are freely given.  Both are gifts to God’s people in which God again affirms the promise that all might have life and have it abundant.  Both are affirmations of God’s forgiveness of sins.  Both are important and both are foundation to the life of the community of faith.  But, I have to say, there is something about Baptism that warms for soul and affirms my faith.  Something about the water that draws me into the arms of our maker, healer, and redeemer.

Baptism gives us identity.  Identity in Christ.  Identity as children of God.  And forever and ever, there isn’t a thing that can diminish, remove, or compromise that identity.  The font is where the labels of the world wash away.  The font stands as the foundation of our inheritance to life and life eternal.  God created.  God claims.  God names.  In the waters of salvation, all doubts of who we are are washed away.  In the sacrament of the water, God names us beloved.  And everything else about our lives ripples out from the fundamental, grace-filled truth.

On one of my first Sunday here 2.5 years ago, I was standing in the back by the font before worship and in came Pastor Bernie Jorn.  We had only met once before at the Oktoberfest meet and greet before I was called, and we had had a brief conversation on the phone about supplying at St. Mark’s.  But other than that, we didn’t really know much about each other.  And as I stood there waiting to start the announcements at 9:30, he came through the door and he said, “Good morning.”  Good morning, I said.  Then he looked at the me, then the font, then me, and he said “Hey, would you mind splashing me.”

It caught me off guard because while I safely assumed he meant, will you touch the water with your thumb and make the sign of the cross on my forehead...it took everything in me not to take a handful of water and pour it on his head and say, “Pastor Bernie Jorn, remember that you are named and claimed in the waters of life, sweet child of God, and nothing will ever change that.”

Since then, every single time Pastor Bernie passes the font he invites me or someone else to splash water on him.  And there are lot of us who do the same.  When we pass from the Narthex to the Nave, or we leave worship and process into the world we dip our fingers in the water, cross our forehead and remember our baptism. 

And if you don’t do it, or haven’t thought about it, I invite you to try it today.  Anytime you pass that font, feel free to at least touch the water and remember who and whose you are. 

That moment with Pastor Jorn several years ago was so powerfully to me, not only because it’s a privilege and honor to remind someone of their baptism and the love of God that has claimed them…but to enter and leave worship through the water of the font is a statement to the world that no other name, label, identifier, club, organization, political affiliation, stereotype, or otherwise can come close to redefining your identity in Christ.  

Remembering your baptism at the start of worship is to reclaim the gift of grace extended to you and me.  To remember that all things will fade away.  All the hats we wear can be removed and set aside.  All the labels and qualifiers of the world are human made and exist to separate us from one another and ourselves.  But that water, that holy sacrament is a proclamation to the world that when all is stripped away, I am claimed by God.  I am God’s child.  I am beloved.  And the water unites us with Christ and with one another. 

To splash in the water is to tell the world that I belong to God.  God chooses me.  God chooses us.  And try as hard as we might to label and define one another, nothing holds a candle to the one and only who saves us.  The one and only who grants us life.  The one and only who claims us as children, as beloved.  

I want to pose a question for your reflection.  Ignite some self-curiosity if you will.  Plant a seed of self-assessment and discernment.  And if you were with us a few months ago, I put forth a similar question and actually invited you to write your answers down.  If you recall, I gave you the prompt “I am..” and invited you to fill in the blank.  Similarly, today, I want us to consider what it is that defines us.   What labels do we model, or better yet what brands us?  When you meet a stranger, who knows nothing about you, what might their impression be. 

Our world and our culture are proud on labeling and categorizing people, aren’t we?  It’s amazing that even the seemingly innocent things we do that can cause us to be defined, labeled, and prejudged.  Especially when you start thinking about the choices, we make in life that begin to define us to others.  The clothes we wear or the jersey we put on.  The car we drive or the bumper stickers we slap on the back.  Our political affiliations and ambitious, the groups we belong to and the organizations we support.  There are so many labels the world has created to define us.  

So, what is that defines you?  I often think about NASCAR cars.  Personally, I’m not a NASCAR fan, but we can all picture NASCAR cars, right?  They’re covered in labels and stickers and images and sponsorship.  And as the car goes around and round for 4 hours, you can’t help but see the relationships and organizations they support.  But, if you peel all of those labels back, and strip the car down, it’s only a car.  And if we think about our lives in a similar way, what labels and brands describe us, and when they’re all peeled back, who are we?  When someone meets you for the first or hundredth time, what labels has the world impressed upon you?

In the gospel according to Matthew, Matthew is working hard to leave no doubt within the world as to who Jesus is.  From his exhaustive lineage in chapter 1, to the multiple references to prophecy through chapter 2, to Jesus’ baptism, the descending dove, and the voice from heaven proclaiming Jesus as God’s son, in whom God is well pleased.  

Matthew wants there to be no doubt among his audience that this guy, Jesus, is the one called for.  He is the one longed for.  He is the Messiah, the great king of kings and lord of lords.  He is the wonderful, counselor, Mighty God, and prince of peace.  He is God’s son.  Emmanuel - God has come near to us.  And he shall be the savior of the people.  All of God’s people.  Matthew wants to ensure that there is no question about his identity.

And I think that deep down, when I splish and splash in the waters of life back there.  

When I touch the water to my forehead and recall my baptism, I think deep down I first lament and confess that the world may have doubts about who and whose I am.  And I desperately long for the world to have no doubt about my identity as a Christian.  As God’s child.  God’s beloved.   As Christians, washed in the waters of new life, should we too be about the word of God so that there is absolutely NO doubt as to who we are.  More importantly, whose we are.  

In the waters of baptism, God claims us as God’s children.  Marked with the cross of Christ, Sealed by the holy spirit.  The heavens torn apart; the Spirit descends.  God makes us heirs of God’s promised salvation.  God’s victory over death. God folds us into the story of compassion, love, grace, peace, and forgiveness.  God clothes us in mercy.  And NOTHING, absolutely nothing, thank God, can change the life we have in God.   Our identity, in the most holistic sense is inextricably connected to God.

And out of the waters, our new identity ought to define the world - not the other way around.  Everything else in our lives ought to be an expression of that grace.  A testament to that gift.  A ripple.  

On Nov. 11, 1943, Martin Luther was baptized in Eisleben Germany at the church of St. Peter and St. Paul.  The church was refurbished several years ago, and when they renovated the inside of the church, they did one of the coolest things.  One of the most powerful images of baptism I have ever seen.   In the front and center of the church, they placed a baptismal font in the floor.  It’s a big, deep font in which someone could easily be submerged.  And in the concrete floors of the church they etched concentric circles all rippling out from the font.  So that, no matter where you sat or stood in the church, you were within the ripples of the font.  It’s incredibly beautiful and I put in on a slide for you to see in Hart Hall.  

This is such a powerful image of Baptism, because try as hard as we might, we absolutely cannot escape the waters of our identity.  We are God’s children, grafted into gracious gift of eternal life, wading in the ripple of salvation.  In the waters God washes away the divisions of world.  Race, ethnicity, sex, gender. All the marks of human-made division fail in the grace of God to offer salvation in this holy sacrament.

We are called to be a member of the body, working for justice and peace in all the world.  We are called to proclaim who is greater, to point to the great I am, to tell of a love so deep and rich.  Called to extend compassion for the less fortunate, advocacy for the lost, and respite for the wandering.  God’s grace-filled claim on God’s people never, never fades away.  Never expires. No label of the world can supersede “Beloved child of God.”

And here is the beautiful thing, when we lose sight of who and whose we are...when the world would work to convince us otherwise, we remember that in the waters of the life also come the promise of the community.  We are not alone.  As members of the body of Christ, we are inextricably connected to one another always called to reflect Christ to others.   And I think it’s so important for us to remember that.  And if ever there were a day to be reminded, it’s today.  

Do me a favor, pull out your cranberry ELW and turn to page 228.  Page numbers at the bottom.  Hymn numbers at the top. 

*At this point I left the pulpit and my sermon to read through the promises of baptism and the communal renunciations.  The sermon closed at the baptismal font where I challenged everyone with two actions:

1) Contact someone in your life you fulfilled the baptismal promises for you

2) Fulfill the promises of baptism for someone else in your life.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

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The Prelude and its Promise - Sermon on Matthew 3:1-12

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 3:1-12

1 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, ² "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." ³ This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.' " ⁴ Now John wore clothing of camel's hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. ⁵ Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, ⁶ and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. ⁷ But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? ⁸ Bear fruit worthy of repentance. ⁹ Do not presume to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. ¹⁰ Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ¹¹ "I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. ¹² His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

SERMON

When Sarah and I first met, we quickly discovered our mutual affection for all things Broadway.  We both spent some time working in our local school or community theaters growing up, and musical theater was an important part of our life.   So, when we first started dating, we started a Sunday night tradition, where Sarah would come over to the apartment to watch a Broadway musical on DVD.  And we didn’t just watch the DVD, we would belt out each tune to the top of our lungs, singing along with the musical. Sarah was always partial to Little Shop of Horrors because she played Audrey in high school.  That’s the musical about Seymour, a bumbling, geeky florist who discovers a talking venus fly trap. The plant thrives off human blood and begins to grow. Ya know what, that’s irrelevant to the point of this sermon.  If you want to discuss Broadway musicals in more detail, see me after worship.     

A few weeks into our tradition, it became a running joke for our friends from upstairs to text us and guess which musical we’re watching based on our singing.  Then they would ask us to stop singing.  

Actually, one of our first dates was to the local community theater in Columbia, SC to see Les Misérables.  So good.

Our affection for broadway musicals is deep, and so naturally we feel a responsibility to pass on the joy and beauty of musicals to Bennet.   I don’t sit down at the piano at home as often as I’d like, but when I do, I try and play a lot of show tunes. Bennet requests them. 

About three weeks ago, Sarah and I started our vacation by going to the Times Union center to see Wicked.   Anyone seen Wicked? An incredible musical written by Stephen Schwartz.  

It’s the story of Elpheba, the Wicked Witch of the West, and it’s told in parallel to the classic story the Wizard of Oz.   

So, in preparation for the musical that night, as we typically do, we were listening to the soundtrack as we cooked dinner.  Bennet and I were at the table. I was working. He was eating. And when the overture started, I found myself teaching Bennet about the musical.  “Bennet,” I said, “This is the beginning of the show. It’s sort of like a prelude, but in theater we call it an overture.”  

For most folks, it’s a signal that the show has started and soon actors will appear on stage.  It may not seem all that important, but the overture is one of the most important moments of the show.”  Bennet took another bite and nodded along.  

I explained to Bennet that the overture is significant because it establishes the themes and moods of the show.  And a really good musical overture plants a seed in your ear, so that when you hear the same tunes or riffs later in the show, the music draws a red thread through the narrative.  The overture sets the mood. It presents the themes. It essentially makes you a promise about what is to come. And, if it’s a musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber, then you’ll essentially the entire show in the overture.   

And as we listened to the overture for Wicked, Bennet and I discussed the various musical themes.  The riff for “No One Mourns the Wicked.” The teaser for “Unlimited” the transition between minor and major chords and the resolutions that symbolize and preface the overarching narrative.  

Certain to say that Bennet was enamored by the conversation of overtures and preludes.

The use of preludes and overtures goes well beyond Broadway musicals, doesn’t it?  Think about some of your favorite move trilogies or sagas. The opening of Star Wars?   Indiana Jones. Jurassic Park? Home Alone. Harry Potter… Well, I guess anything by John Williams.   

In literature, we often think of the foreword and preface as a sort of prelude to the Author’s work.  They often introduce themes, moods, or motivations behind the narrative that follows. 

Certainly, one of our most common encounters with the power of preludes is in worship.  Each and every time we gather for worship, we begin with a musical offering. We commonly refer to it as a prelude.  And the final piece as a postlude. But within worship, especially here at St. Mark’s, it is so much more than that.  

We are truly blessed to have a cantor that is incredibly talented and gifted, not only with his abilities, but with musical knowledge, insight, history, and diversity as well.  Each and every time we gather for worship, we begin with an Opening Voluntary, or prelude. And I don’t mean to speak for Tony, but I’m confident to say that Tony does not pick a prelude or opening voluntary for prelude’s sake.  He doesn’t choose a piece of music haphazardly or flippantly. Each piece is selected with discernment and care because the opening voluntary, the prelude of our worship, establishes a mood. It sets a tone. It often previews musical and theological themes.  It makes a promise, and that promise becomes fulfilled throughout the course of worship. 

More often than not, Tony selects an opening voluntary that is arranged around a particular hymn we sing later in worship.  Or the text of the voluntary is rooted in the texts of the day. And to be sure, Tony takes special care to account for the melody, the tone, the tempo, the setting, the arrangement, etc, so that the opening piece is a precursor to the rest of worship.  

Even today, our St. Mark’s ringers played “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus,” and the arrangement used two different tunes for the well-known hymn.  That piece set the tone for our worship, establishing themes of longing, anticipation, movement, hope, and in the end a tension between the two settings, both conveying the same text, but with different, inter-laying melodies that ring balance to the difficult now and not yet of our Christian faith.  Celebrating the coming of the Emmanuel - God with us, while dancing with eagerness, waiting for the second coming of Christ.

Preludes are important, intentional contributions to the overall work or narrative.  In fact, by definition, a prelude serves as an introduction preceding and preparing for the principal or a more important matter.  It is essential to the overarching event and it demands our careful and reflective attention. 

Now I say all of that because I think it is the perfect lens by which we should approach the season of Advent and our text for today.  Of all the seasons of the church year, Advent is consistently one of the shortest. It’s the first season, and it comes and goes with the blink of an eye.  The world we live in and the consumerist culture does not favor a slow, intentional, and meaningful seasons of anticipation.   

Sometimes Advent feels like the opening of our favorite TV show.  We know it. We’ve heard and seen it. So, we play on our need for instant gratification, use our technology and jump ahead 10, 15, even 30 seconds to get to the good stuff.  Fast forward through the opening credits.

Advent then becomes a steppingstone to a larger, more robust and drawn out story that we breeze right past it or snooze our way through it.  And if we’re not careful or intentional, we miss the power of these texts. We’ll miss the emphasis of their proclamation. The themes they establish.  The mood and tone of their delivery. If we’re not attentive to the season of prelude and precursor then we sacrifice our experience of the whole narrative. 

Matthew’s gospel account opens with an exhaustive and complete genealogy, laying out 28 generations from Abraham, to David, the Messiah.  Then the birth of Jesus is announced, and the wise men make their journey. Joseph and his family flee to Egypt and Herod sought out and killed all of the children in and around Bethlehem.  

And today, John the Baptist appears in the wilderness, fulfilling the words of the prophet Isaiah, proclaiming the arrival of the kingdom of God.  John the Baptist is our prelude to the Messiah. The voice of the one crying out in the wilderness. JTB is our overture to the coming of the Kingdom of God.  John the Baptist sets the tone. Establishes the mood. Presents the themes of the overarching narrative, and there is a reason for his place in the story. There’s a purpose for his overture.  

I think we would do very well to lend a careful and attentive ear in preparation for the whole of the gospel narrative. 

"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near…Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'  John’s appearance and proclamation establishes some very important themes.  

First, the kingdom of God has come near.  God’s reign is ever present. God’s love for God’s people becomes incarnated in the Emmanuel - the Christ child.  God has come down, to live among God’s people, vulnerable to the depths and fears of human emotion. God loves the people so much that God chooses to be among them and accompany them through the extremes of life, even death.  The kingdom has come near, and we do well to keep watch. To see the presence of God at hand.

Second, John proclaims that God’s kingdom will be far reaching, diverse, and more inclusive than they imagined.  Do not presume to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” 

God’s good kingdom is not and will not be exclusive to the descendants of Abraham, but rather there is a place for all people all nations.  The Kingdom of heaven is expansive and diverse. We do well to keep watch for the breadth and depth of God’s kingdom.

Third, repentance is central to the coming of God’s kingdom and the reign of the Emmanuel.  John cries out, “repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”   

This prelude is immediately realized a chapter later when Jesus begins his earthly ministry with the exact same phrase, “Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”   

John presents an important and powerful theme that will play out again and again as Jesus encounters people throughout his ministry.  Repentance is more than an apology or an admission of wrongdoing. It’s not about dwelling our mistakes and confession of sin.  Repentance is a complete turning around.  

Repentance means to turn away from poor values, unjust practices, and sinful behavior.  To deny false idols and self-righteousness. Repentance is a turn towards. A returning to God and the values of God’s good kingdom at hand.   

Repentance is an intentional first step in a new direction. A new and different path.  It’s to charter a new course, veer in a new way, set forth a new destination. We would do well to keep watch for the power of repentance and forgiveness as we go forward.   

This is the power and conviction of John the Baptist’s proclamation.  It is the power of Advent as a prelude to the rest of the liturgical year and the gospel narrative.  In Advent we set a new path, re-recognize the themes of our identity. We set the tone and establish the mood.  Advent is the gift and opportunity to reclaim the gift of repentance and turn towards God. 

Looks friends, Advent is such an important season in the year of the church.  It presents a valuable and essential foundation to the truths of faith we share.  In this season, we wait for the Lord. Not only for the Emmanuel born at Christmas, but we remember again our desperate longing to the coming again of God’s only son to reconcile all people, all nations, all times.

And we do well this brief but powerful Advent season to relish in the motifs of our faith.  To embrace the salvific themes of God’s goodness. To be attentive, intentional, and careful as we embark on the narrative of our faith and the fulfillment of God’s promise to the world once again.

The season of Advent...season of anticipation and longing...of waiting and eagerness, plays out like the brilliant overture.  This season makes us a promise...a promise of God that the kingdom is at hand. It is expansive, diverse, and inclusive. A promise the God’s kingdom will be like none-other and will not be ruled as the world expects.  The promise of Advent is God’s abiding and grace-filled presence in the Christ-child, Emmanuel. 

Let the overture play.  Let our hearts be attuned.  Let our souls be filled. Let our Spirit yearn for the story to be told.  Be present in this moment, for God’s promise will be fulfilled.

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached by Sunday Dec. 8, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran JAX, FL