Plymouth Congregational Church of Fort Wayne, UCC
January 10, 2010
First Sunday after Epiphany

Scripture Lesson:  Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

 What Have We Learned?

"...the people were filled with expectation,
and all were questioning in their hearts..."
 (Luke 3:15)

Prelude

Our lesson this morning is Luke's recording of

a signature moment in the life of Jesus - the baptism.

All four of the New Testament Gospels record the moment

when the lives of John and Jesus intersect

with the waters of baptism. 

And each offers interpretation,

a slanted reading of the event. 

All four are of one mind in asserting:

the baptism is a line of demarcation;

it divides time in the Jesus story.

The baptism is foundational experience that

designates fundamental change;

with baptism comes a shift in direction,

an altered course.

The experience specifies the

dawning of consciousness, a new age.

It signals a different a time.

Without such moments

we wouldn't be able to measure our days.

There would be

neither pre- nor post;

no before, no after;

nothing old, nothing new.

Baptisms are essential for life.

They portend growth, discovery,

advancement, enlargement of soul.

Before baptism, there is obscurity;

after baptism, clarity.

Before baptism, there is anonymity.

after baptism, identity and claim.

And with identity and claim

comes direction.

In our UCC Statement of Faith

we encounter an important teaching;

we voice what we have learned:

 "God seeks in holy love to save

all people from aimlessness and sin."  

This is profound affirmation.

To be aimless is a woeful condition.

How we struggle and stew,

indeed what personal misery we experience,

when we lack "aim."

So, too, what grace and mercy and delight

it is to have direction and meaning and purpose,

to be blessed with knowledge that God calls us

by name, with a claim of possession,

because we are precious in God's sight (Isaiah 43).   

So we declare the intent of God's holy love:

to save all people, to set before all people

a way of life filled with wonder,

with faith, with hope.

          *****                   *****                   *****

In Luke's record of Jesus' baptism there are

a couple of intriguing features that I would

like to circle this morning.

Luke addresses, in part, the relationship between

John the Baptist, so formidable a character in his own right,

and Jesus, who subsequently emerges from John's shadow.

"... the people were filled with expectation," Luke tells us;

"all were questioning in their hearts concerning John,"

whether he might be the Messiah, the Christ.

The King James offers this translation:

"... the people where in expectation,

 and all men mused in their hearts"

(Luke 3:15).

So here's the question:  what are we musing?

Deep within.  And have we retained meaningful,

engaging levels of expectations,

given the heightened state that

existed just a few days ago -

(the holy day and holiday),

positioned as we are, still fresh, in a new year?

When the scripture states the people

were filled with expectation,

that all "mused in their hearts,"

we are led to believe the folks of that day

were prepared with faith for a change of fortune.

They expected a breakthrough, we might say,

that would alter life for good.

This morning I want to encourage faithful expectation,

faithful musings in our hearts.

Just about a month ago, December 7, 2009, Time magazine had on its front

cover the portrait of a crying baby, signaling the

new year coming, and the headline on the cover

read:  "The Decade From Hell."  The author of the

featured essay, Andy Serwer, wrote:  "We are still

weeks away from the end of '09, but is not too early

to pass judgment.  Call it the Decade from Hell, or

the Reckoning, or the Decade of Broken Dreams,

or the Lost Decade.  Call it whatever you want - just

give thanks that it is nearly over."

The assessment?  The last ten years, "the most dispiriting and

disillusioning decade to have lived through in the last 60 years;

as "awful," the author argues, as any peacetime decade in the

nation's entire history.

We might wonder:  what lies ahead?

Will we sing, as once was sung:

"Happy days are here again?"

(used in the 1930 film, "Chasing Rainbows;"

also used by FDR in the '32 presidential campaign).

And if so, will we have learned anything?

Will we have learned anything from the recent

economic downturn and about our capacity

for greed, for excess; or our capacity to

be compliant when leadership counsels war without end;

or our capacity to elevate self-interest over civic interest,

private gain over public good?

          *****                   *****                   *****

In Luke's record, it is clearly stated:

"all were questioning ... all mused."

They wondered:  is John the change agent

we want and need?

John declines nomination for higher office.

Instead, he counsels the coming of the One

who will baptize with Holy Spirit and fire.

It is an oddly intriguing combination:

Holy Spirit and fire.

Fire is a rich and textured image,

flickering through the ages,

from burning bush and Moses (Exodus 3:2),

to the pillar of fire that led

the people through the wilderness (Exodus 13:21-22);

so God can be conveyed via fire;

yet God is not in the "earthquake, wind, and fire"

as Elijah was so instructed:  (I Kings 19:12);

we see also, fire comes down from heaven,

even as a chariot of fire and horses of fire

to heaven ascend. (II Kings 2:11).

In Isaiah we read:  "The Lord will come in fire" (Isaiah 66:15).

In Jeremiah we read:  "Is not my word like fire, says the Lord" (Jeremiah 23:29).

In Ezekiel we read:  "Behold, I will kindle a fire in you" (Ezekiel 20:47).

In our New Testament book of Hebrews,

it is written:  "... our God is a consuming fire ..." (Hebrews 12:29).

John declared one coming who would baptize with fire;

Jesus said, "I came to cast fire ..."

And if we recall anything of Pentecost, when the church

first emerged, it was with tongues as of fire (Acts. 2:3).

This foreshadowing of baptism with Holy Spirit and fire

speaks to me of ignition,

of being turned on,

of being energized

in work that fits the divine will, indeed,

the mind and love of Christ.

It is not to be misplaced in a world to come.

It is a seed of hope planted well within this world,

this day, this year that we anticipate sharing together.

Are we expecting any "fire?"

Author Rebecca Solnit has spoken of hope as

"no longer fixed in the future; it (hope)

becomes an electrifying force in the present." 

(Hope in Darkness, p. 108).

Now - here we need to be careful.

Most of us have been baptized.

And all of us are recipients of Holy Spirit.

But not all of us have caught fire,

possibly we've burnt ourselves,

maybe the match has never been struck.

This is what we all need to expect:

the fire of faith, the electrifying force of hope,

that ignites us as persons/as people/community,

with passion to be engaged,

consumed with what we believe

to be most dear:  love and peace, mercy and justice.

Not just for some, but for all. 

This past week I "retreated" for a time into

a work of James Baldwin's entitled:

"The First Next Time."  It is a work passionate

and eloquent and searing in its assessment,

at times its indictment, of church life.

Baldwin experienced the fires of salvation in the church;

yet he was painfully aware of how cold the

the church could be toward the world.  

He asked:

"what was the point, the purpose, of my salvation

if it did not permit me to behave with love toward others,

no matter how they behaved toward me?" (p. 58).

He went on to say:  "if the concept of God

has any validity or any use, it can only be

to make us larger, freer, more loving." 

Let us pause, muse upon this:

the fires of faith in the Christian movement,

the baptism we are taught to expect,

the electrifying force of hope now,

must make us larger, freer, more loving.

Take a test:  evaluate this church, any church;

pose the question:  does this place, this people,

this/that community, does it serve to make

us larger, freer, more loving?

If not, then God be not with us.

          *****                   *****                   *****

Final thought.

It is tough to peg the exact moment when

spirit falls, the ignition light to fire our lives.

In Luke, the revealing work of God is not

tied to the ritual of baptism,

but to the revealing of its significance.

Muse with me here:

ritual signifies revelation:  glory be to God!

But revelation is not restricted to ritual:

glory be to God again!

Note the sequence in Luke.

There is baptism.

But then Luke inserts prayer.

Jesus prays - common theme in this gospel.

And then - a moment,

but we don't know how long -

just a moment -

then the Holy Spirit visits,

then there is the Voice,

then discovery; the revelation:

You are mine, the Beloved;

with you I am well pleased.

In this discovery, there is ignition,

a pursuit of life that inspires praise and glory to God.

It is an inflamed life, enlarged life,

a life of searing commitment,

that makes all the difference in the world;

it makes a difference because when we hear

and receive the revelation, we become

larger, freer, more loving.

When all other voices fade;

when all other measures of identity burn out,

this is the one voice to which we would cling.

The year before us - filled with some uncertainty, I'd say.

Thinking about what is past, anticipating the new year,

I am curious what we have learned.  And I'm curious,

are we committed t learning more?

I hope and pray we are filled with expectation,

and like Jesus, God's good agent of grace,

I pray we ignite with love and service

that brings us delight and joy,

that glories the God most worthy of our worship.

Amen.