Is this the water that makes you safe?

sermon by Carrie Eikler
Psalm 40:1-11, John 1:29-34
Epiphany 2

(Context: The issues going around in my mind during the preparation of this sermon are revealed in the text. Close to home, our town and congregation is grappling with the death of a 15 month old baby, believed to be from neglect. A member of our congregation worked hard a year ago to get this family support and the congregation donated furniture and other items to help this family out. I had this young child in mind, and Rachel (the member of our congregation who worked tirelessly to help them). Our prayers go to the family of Madison Violet and to Rachel as she reclaims her baptism, working for justice, living compassion)

Scripture Reading - John 1:29-34

"In other words..."


[worship leader] Sara Miles was raised an atheist and happily lived a secular life as a cook and journalist. Then one morning, she went to church, took communion and was transformed. She said “I could not take communion, read the Bible, and not feed people.” With that, she started a food pantry in the sanctuary of St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in San Francisco. The following comes from her book Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion.

--
I was unloading groceries on Friday when I spotted Sasha standing out back by the baptismal font, as if she were waiting for someone. Sasha was a very small black girl, maybe six or seven years old, who usually came to the pantry with an impatient, teenage aunt. I’d never met her mother. Sasha’s hair wasn’t always combed, and this day she had a split lip. “Sweetheart!” I said. I was glad to see her again. “Want a snack? There’s some chips inside.”

Sasha looked at me, not smiling. “Is this water the water God puts on you to make you safe?” she demanded abruptly, in a strangely formal voice.

I put down my boxes. What was she asking for? Was I being asked to baptize her? My mind raced, flashing back to when I’d stood at the font for my own baptism just a few years ago.

…
How could I tell this child that a drop of water could make her safe? I had no idea what Sasha was going through at home, but I suspected it was rough. And baptism, if it signified anything, signified the unavoidable reality of the cross at the heart of Christian faith. It wasn’t a magic charm but a reminder of God’s presence in the midst of unresolved human pain.

I remembered what [a priest] had asked me, when I was contemplating baptism. [I presented Sasha with that same question.]

“Do you want it?” I asked

Sasha locked her eyes on me. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I want that water.”

There was something so serious in her face that it stopped me cold. I dipped my fingers into the font, and Sasha turned her face up to me, concentrating. I made the sign of the cross on her forehead.

I took Sasha into the church and found Lynn, [one of the priests,] who was trying valiantly to help out at the pantry, despite her illness. I was so glad she was there. Of all the priests at St. Gregory’s, Lynn was the one least fazed by suffering: She was, as the Bible said dryly of Jesus, “acquainted with grief.” I told her what had happened, and we walked over to the small wooden shrine by the preacher’s chair, where Lynn asked Sasha if she wanted a special blessing.

“Yes,” Sasha said again, gravely. “I want that.”

From the shrine, Lynn took the small container of oil and showed it to Sasha. The girl stood up, very still, in front of Lynn’s chair. “I’m going to put my hands on you and pray now, if you’re ready,” Lynn said, and Sasha nodded.

[silence]

[Carrie]
“Is this the water God puts on you to make you safe?”
What a big question for such a little girl. Not big in the sense that it’s theologically complex, which it is—
but big because it reveals something about Sasha’s life that seems beyond her years.
Safety is something we assume to be a right for children.
But as we discovered in church last Sunday, and read in the papers, that is not always the case.

A 15-month old baby, in a family this congregation tried to support, dies from neglect.
A seven-year old girl named Sasha comes to the sanctuary [slash] food pantry with a split lip.
A five-year old Haitian boy still lives in a tent village, without parents or grandparents.
And a nine-year old girl born on the tragic day of September 11, 2001 dies with five others at a political rally in Arizona.

Sasha went to the water to find safety, and Sara wasn’t sure it could offer her that.
For Sara, as we heard, baptism is more about the cross than it is about protection. Our faith ancestors would agree with that.
For them, baptism as adults was a death sentence. It was the opposite of safety.
It was foolishness.
As the Apostle Paul says, it is the foolishness of the cross.

So I have to agree with Sara. Baptism will not keep you safe.

But to be clear, neither Jesus nor John the Baptist ever said it would.
“I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he [meaning, Jesus the Christ] might be revealed to Israel” (John 1:31).
The only magical qualities this baptism had was to reveal the unseen.
To make intangible the tangible.
To let people see, and touch, and smell God in a way they never had before.

And once Jesus is baptized, he is revealed in a spectacular, yet simple, way.
The Holy Spirit descended on Jesus...spectacular
and God calls him… beloved...simple.
In this action, in water and being named Beloved, God’s presence was made flesh. From this point on God walked among us.

And God walked to the cross.
But not straight to the cross.
God healed, and ate, and laughed, even cried.


Is this the water God puts on you to keep you safe? No.
This is the water God puts on you to tell you that you are beloved.
This is the water God puts on you to tell you that
each action you do from this point on
has the capacity to reveal God to the world.
A world where children die.
A world where we come into God’s sanctuary with split lips, and broken hearts.

--
Sasha was ready to receive God’s blessing through the priest, after Sara put water from the baptismal font on her head.
Was it a real baptism? Sara wasn’t a priest, Sasha didn’t say any vows, or take a membership class.

“Behind us,” reflects Sara, “a crowd was circling around the Table, gathering up rice and beans and Froot Loops cereal. A bunch of other kids were dodging in and out, shouting and punching one another and eating snacks.

‘Jesus is always with you,’ Lynn [the priest] told Sasha, ‘no matter what happens to you, even when bad things happen. You’re not ever alone.’ Sasha closed her eyes for a moment, then looked down directly at the seated priest, and I saw something flowing between them: the child, crucified, anointing Lynn with the power of her crucifixion, and Lynn, receiving it, anointing Sasha.”

Is this the water God puts on you to keep you safe?

Unfortunately, no.

But this is the water that reveals God, through you,
so you may hold others,
and be held by others.

As Lynn, the priest reminded young Sasha,
This is the water that reminds you
that you are held in the palm of God’s hand.
‘Jesus is always with you, no matter what happens to you, even when bad things happen. You’re not ever alone.’

[silence]


It’s fitting that we talk about the baptism of Jesus in the new year. If we think about it, perhaps the call to remember our baptism can fit in along side our New Year’s resolutions.

Remember your baptism.
Come to the water again and again.
You cannot be called Beloved too many times.

We will be entering into a time of renewing our promises that we made on our baptismal day or our confirmation day. These words are printed in your bulletin.

For those of you who have not been baptized, please feel free to speak them as an invitation to consider what Christ might be calling you to. Consider entering into the water with Christ.

And for all of us, baptized or not, may we renew our promises to be the hands and heart of God in a world of trouble, and a world of suffering. All the while, knowing that you are beloved.

Please stand.
We turn to Christ
In the Love between us,
The passion within us,
The hope inspiring us.


As we remember the promises of our baptism
We commit ourselves again
To renounce sin and evil,
To do justice,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with God.

Hymn Rain Down SJ #49
As we sing our closing hymn, you are invited to the baptismal waters again—to receive the feel of God’s love for you on your forehead. If you cannot come forward, please raise your hands and we will come to you.

May clean clear water bless us,
wellspring or waterfall,
God’s life in abundance
flowing, cleansing, refreshing

Benediction –
As you leave, remember your baptism.
As you walk through the week, remember you are beloved.
As you laugh and cry with the rhythms of life, remember you are held in the palm of God’s hand. Amen.