The Rev. Dan Rondeau
St. Margaret's Episcopal Church & School
Isaiah 2:10-17 | Psalm 89:1-18 | Romans 6:3-11 | Matthew 10:34-42
Would it surprise you that I choose not to deal with Jesus' hyperbole this morning? Would it surprise you that I choose not to highlight the grim picture painted by Isaiah in this morning's lesson? On this morning when Summer Lynn Velasquez will be baptized I want to talk about Paul's words:
Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?
Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. (Romans 6:3-5)
To begin to understand what Paul is saying, to begin to understand what difference this will make in the life of our newly baptized, to begin to understand what has been going on in our lives since we were baptized "into [Christ's] death" and "united with him in a resurrection like his" we turn to a story shared by a Christian monk, Anthony de Mello, who loved to tell stories. Knowing about Jesus who died and rose is one thing, knowing Jesus who died and rose is quite another.
De Mello shares a dialogue between a recent convert and an unbelieving friend:
"So you have been converted to Christ?"
"Yes."
"Then you must know a great deal about him. Tell me: What country was he born in?"
"I don't know."
"What was his age when he died?"
"I don't know."
"How many sermons did he preach?"
"I don't know."
"You certainly know very little for a man who claims to be converted to Christ!"
"You are right. I am ashamed at how little I know about him. But this much I do know: Three years ago I was a drunkard. I was in debt. My family was falling to pieces. My wife and children would dread my return home each evening. But now I have given up drink; we are out of debt; ours is now a happy home. All this Christ has done for me. This much I know of him!"1
I believe we are here this morning not because we know about Christ, but because we know Christ, that is, we have been transformed by our knowing Christ. We may have a library full of knowledge about Jesus and his teaching and his parables and his miracles, but we are here this morning because, like the unnamed convert, we know what Christ has done for us, and we are changed and we are changing because we know him.
We will rejoice with Summer and her family, in her baptism this morning, because we know that the Lord who died and rose, will transform her life as she comes more and more to know him.
Paul the Apostle set the example didn't he? William Willimon, a noted contemporary preacher, puts it nicely: "When he spoke of what happened to him on the Damascus Road, Paul never knew whether to call it being born or being killed. In a way, it felt like both at the same time. Whatever it was, it had something to do with letting go."2
Paul was transformed as he came to know Christ on the Damascus Road. We have been transformed as we have come to know Christ in our faith journey. Summer will be transformed as she comes to know Christ in her faith journey. Make no mistake: there is a difference between knowing about Christ and knowing Christ. Believe that Paul knew what he was talking about: "we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life."
I encourage you to continue to let go of those things— a bad attitude, jealousy, animosity, an unforgiving spirit, doubt, feelings of shame, or inadequacy—which may be hindering your continued spiritual growth. Bury them, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, rest in peace," bury that which hinders your closer walk with God. Then let God's power raise you to "newness of life." Be transformed even as the Lord you know and love was transformed.
Letting go of those things which hinder our closer walk with God and taking up company with the Lord in joy and newness of life is perhaps the easy part. Harder is to deal with loss on any level, especially the death of a loved one, and awake with a trust that as Jesus was raised from the dead, so too will we be raised.
A long time parishioner, Dolores McGowen, died earlier this week. Her husband of 64 years has had his life changed in the space of a breath. He has been buried with Christ in his loss. Alzheimer's disease had robbed Dolores and Jack of much already; the knowledge that her suffering is ended, the heartfelt belief that Dolores is in that New Jerusalem where there is no more death, crying, suffering, or pain sustains Jack through most moments. But it will take all that is in him, all that has helped him through these last years, it will take the loving support of family and church, it will take knowing Christ, to sustain him into a newness of life. Many of you have had to make that journey and you are here because you know from the inside out the truth of Paul's words.
In injury and illness, or in simply growing older, we are forced to deal with letting go, burying what was, and finding newness of life as we arise. The knowledge that Jesus walked this way, even suffered betrayal, torture, and death, is a beginning. But it is in remembering times past, remembering smaller deaths and resurrections from our history, that we find hope and strength in the one who walks with us. By our worship here, by refreshment in Word and Sacrament, we sustain and deepen our relationship with the One who died and rose, and we emerge stronger in our hope and belief that we share his victory now, and will continue to share that victory tomorrow.
Have you had to move from a beloved place? Have you by choice or circumstance had to leave a job or a company you truly loved? Have you had to wish children well as they began college or career and left your home? Then you know something of dying with Christ. That you are here tells me you have also found that your were raised with Christ in your new home, new job (or retirement), in the pride you feel in your children as they established themselves, and so on.
I encourage you to look at your own journey and remember those things that you have had to let go, good things, good people, good places, especially if the letting go felt a lot like death and burial. What has come after? No doubt, the "new something" is filled with abundant life; it is God's way revealed in Jesus Christ and it is our heritage.
Not all "letting go" is sad. Yesterday I witnessed death and resurrection in front of this very altar, in a most joyful manner. Mike and Terrie, Marco and Julie, in two separate ceremonies exchanged wedding vows here. Mike the bachelor, Mike thinking of himself first, happy in being single, died; Mike, with all that he is and all that he has became Terrie's husband and a new life opened not only for him, but for Terrie as well (who likewise had to die as a single woman in order to become Mike's wife). What Marco and Julie were before their vows, died in that moment, and a new creation, blessed by God, was born.
I encourage you to find the truth in the Apostle's words in your own history. I pray that God bless us with a lively sense of His Presence and Abiding Love and a keen awareness of His desire to sustain us in abundant life, even when we have to let go of that which is good and lovely.
I pray for you today as you make this journey:
May the Lord Jesus Christ be near you to defend you. Within you to refresh you. Around you to protect you. Before you to guide you. Behind you to justify you. Above you to bless you.3 Amen.
1 Anthony de Mello, The Song of the Bird, p. 112
2 William Willimon in The Christian Century (March 5, 1986)
3 Tenth Century Celtic Prayer in Michael Counsell, 2000 Years of Prayer, p. 73