A Thought For The Week Of August 31, 2015

"... I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good." (Titus 3:8) As a Christian I obviously believe that a person is saved by the grace of God and not by their own works. But over the years I've noticed that a lot of Christians have a tendency to look rather sneeringly at those Christians who actually do a lot of good works, and then they say rather dismissively and accusingly that "they're trying to be saved through their works." Some Christians, undoubtedly, are legalists who do believe that it's all about works. Maybe too many Christians believe that, actually. We need to be careful about being too quick to dismiss good works or to assume that any Christian who does a lot of good works is doing them for their own sake (to be saved) and hasn't really understood the gospel. In fact, the New Testament, while witnessing to God's grace as the source and means of our salvation, is actually very clear about the central place of works in a Christian life.There are, of course, James' famous words that "faith without works is dead." But for anyone who sees that as a one-off, isolated message, here we see essentially the same message in Titus. Those who have trusted in God must be careful to devote themselves to doing good. Why? First, because faith must - if it's real - transform and re-orient us so that our concern shifts from our own needs to the needs of those around us. That's essential, because that's how we reflect Jesus, who was always oriented toward the other. And that's also the second reason. Our works are the witness to our faith. As an old saying tells us, our faith can be so heavenly minded that it's of no earthly use. But faith must be of earthly use. Otherwise, it's not real. It's an illusion; a sham - because it doesn't witness to Christ, whom the Bible tells us did many good works. To hold faith within ourselves accomplishes nothing. We devote ourselves to doing good so that others can see in us the most important change that faith in Jesus makes in our lives: it makes us die to self, and to begin to live for God and for others.

August 30 2015 sermon: Quick - Slow - Slower

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. In fulfilment of his own purpose he gave us birth by the word of truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures. You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing. If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

(James 1:17-27)

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     How many of you were paying attention over the last couple of weeks to the tensions on the Korean Peninsula between North and South Korea? Bill Clinton once described the Demilitarized Zone between the two Koreas as the “scariest place on the face of the earth,” or words to that effect. Two nations (three, really, if you count the United States, which has thousands of troops stationed in Korea) who often seem ready and willing to restart a war that ended over 60 years ago except that it never really ended. Things heated up in Korea again over the last little while - and a lot of the renewed tensions had to do with loudspeakers. North Korea began to threaten to go to war because South Korea was blasting anti-North Korea propaganda over loudspeakers set up along the border. There were a few shots fired and it actually did seem as if loudspeakers were going to cause the Korean Peninsula to erupt again, this time featuring a North Korea that has at least a few nuclear weapons, along with a United States that has enough nuclear weapons to blow up the earth many times over. Loudspeakers. It sounds ridiculous. And for all the turmoil and threats and propaganda being blasted back and forth across the border, representatives of North and South Korea finally decided to get together, and in less than 24 hours they had resolved the issues that had almost brought them to war. All it took was for them to be willing to sit down and actually listen to each other. Listening can solve a lot of problems; listening can resolve a lot of conflicts. Undoubtedly that’s why James wrote, “let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” If we are quick to listen to those around us, then we will be slow to speak, and we’ll be even slower to anger. Then, perhaps, we have the possibility of producing God’s righteousness through our encounters with each other instead of misunderstanding, anger and conflict.

     Unfortunately, all too often we don’t do that. Stephen Covey, the author of “The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective People,” wrote that “most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” What he means by that is that most people are spoiling for a fight. When people speak to us, we’re too often defensive, and rather than listening to what they’re saying with a goal of understanding them, we’re looking for openings to shoot back. If you could bring yourself to watch it on a warm summer night, our so-called election debate a couple of weeks ago was a prime example of that. Do you really think that Stephen Harper, Tom Mulcair, Justin Trudeau and Elizabeth May were trying to understand each other? Of course not. They were looking for openings; hoping for opportunities to score points at the expense of each other. Of course, it’s easy to take on the politicians. the problem is that it happens elsewhere. When there’s conflict within families, when there’s conflict within churches - wherever there’s conflict, it’s often because people refuse to listen and engage each other. Instead they simply end up speaking at each other instead of with each other, and ultimately they end up spreading the conflict by speaking past each other to whatever audience there is, and by doing that they drag more people into the conflict. How often have I seen that happen over the years? Frankly - too often. When we decide to speak without taking the time to think about what’s happening we either get into a fight or we end up looking silly.

     Earlier in our service, we heard the story of the transfiguration. It’s a mysterious story indeed. It doesn’t usually get read at this time of year, but today I thought it was a great example of what I’m talking about. Peter saw this incredible sight before him - Jesus standing with Moses and Elijah, Jesus turning a dazzling white, and Peter was speechless - or, perhaps it’s better to say that Peter should have remained speechless, because what he said just frankly didn’t make a lot of sense. “Um. Why don’t I build a place for you three to sit down in?” There was no thought behind his words, and as the text honestly noted, “he didn’t know what to say.” Well, no major fight broke out over this little incident, but fights can erupt when we respond to something without thinking, and the advice that God gave in response to Peter’s unthinking outburst was good advice to follow today: “This is my Son. Listen to him.” Listening is key. Listening to Jesus, and listening to those around us.

     James put it well: “... be quick to listen …” Listening, as I said, is key. We have to listen to each other; we have to hear each other - and our motives in doing so have to be good. It’s exactly as Stephen Covey notes - the purpose of listening to someone should be to understand them, not to respond to them. Listening - real listening - is a show of respect to your partner in the conversation. It demonstrates that whether or not you agree with them, their views are important to you. People want to know that. My experience is that most people don’t mind you disagreeing with them, but they are offended if you won’t even listen to what they have to say. It would do our society, our politics and our churches well if we could learn to talk less and to listen more, which is surely why James goes on to say,

     “... be slow to speak …” You don’t have to jump into a conversation with someone everytime they pause to take a breath. You don’t have to try to talk over those who are expressing different viewpoints. Even if you’re convinced that you’re right, you can afford to let alternative viewpoints be expressed. I’ve often told people that just because I know I’m right it doesn’t mean that I always have to tell you that I’m right. Life doesn’t have to be a never ending exercise in trying to win every argument or to come out on top of every debate or to have the last word in every conversation. There will always be disagreements between people. There should be. Let’s be honest - if we all agreed on everything, we’d have a pretty boring world indeed! But sometimes, the best strategy is to just step back, take a deep breath, let others talk and, frankly, keep our mouths shut - because feeling the need to have the last word on every subject only leads to one outcome, and that’s why James concluded this little piece of advice by saying that we should be:

     “... slow to anger.” I would make it just a little stronger for emphasis - be even slower to anger, because being slower to anger will be the result of listening rather than speaking. If we actually start to listen to those we disagree with we’ll probably discover that for the most part they’re pretty OK people. The truth is that when anger flares up, the conflict is often over something that’s just not that important. In churches over the years I’ve discovered that most church fights have erupted over what are actually rather silly little things, and even those church fights that erupt over more important issues get blown out of proportion because we won’t really listen to those we disagree with, we just choose to express our disagreement.

     I like the first part of James’ three-part advice, and I think it’s especially relevant for the church: “be quick to listen …” That would solve a lot of problems, because it would mean we’d be talking less and perhaps having the time to find out that those we disagree with are usually very good people with very deep faith in Jesus. They just have different ideas - and those we can generally leave to God to sort out. If, as James suggests, anger does not produce God’s righteousness, then perhaps we should think about the possibility that listening just might produce God’s righteousness!

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A Thought For The Week Of August 24, 2015

"Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account." (Matthew 5:11) Jesus never made any promise to his disciples that the life he was calling them to would be an easy life full of worldly ease and success, and yet sometimes that's the image that gets presented. The so-called "Prosperity Gospel" (now called by many of its proponents the "Word-Faith movement," I suppose because that sounds holier) tries to put forth the idea that God's will is for all followers of Jesus to be healthy and wealthy - which, of course, leads to all sorts of abuses, not the least of which is that the idea gets put forward that if you're not healthy and wealthy it must be your fault; you must have done something to get God angry with you to the point at which God chose to pull his blessings from you. That's nonsense, of course. Jesus never promised us that things would be easy and comfortable. The Bible is full of examples of those who were NOT blessed in any material or worldly way because of their faith. Here's a classic example of Jesus' thinking from the Beatitudes. Those who follow Jesus - far from being blessed - should expect hardship in the form of insult, persecution and slander. And I suppose that the proponents of the Prosperity Gospel would say that they're experiencing such things for being denounced! But that would be an abuse of Jesus' words. I'm quite certain that Jesus did not expect or intend that his words would be used to defend televangelists who use their pulpits to bilk folks out of money. Jesus was saying that we - his followers - should not expect a life of ease, wealth or prosperity. Are there blessings? Of course there are - but the blessings are spiritual, not material. They are the blessings of knowing that we belong to one another; that we belong to Christ; that we belong to God. In the face of that knowledge, all the material blessings in the world are meaningless.

August 23, 2015 sermon: Choosing Jesus - If You Dare

“Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” He said this while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum. On hearing it, many of his disciples said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?” Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before! The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you - they are full of the Spirit and life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled them.” From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.”

(John 6:57-69)

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     Life is all about choices. We’re making choices all the time - even if we don’t realize it. I’ve read that the human brain processes about 4 billion bits of information every second. Our brains take these and make use of them to help us confront those situations where we have choices to make, and the same source estimates that an average adult makes approximately 35000 distinct decisions every day. Some of them are complex decisions and some of them are simple; some are important and some are relatively meaningless; some of them require a lot of thought; others we’re not even particularly aware of - but our brains make those decisions. That’s about a decision that your brain has to make every two and a half seconds. Like right now - “do I stay and listen to this silly sermon, or do I leave?” When you hear the numbers, it’s a bit overwhelming isn’t it. But life is about choices, and one of the choices we’re confronted with comes to us from Jesus - just from the very fact that he walked on earth for a few years and that we have some accounts of his life. So we have a choice to make: are we or are we not going to be his disciples? Are we or are we not going to follow him? How far are we going to be willing to follow him? Those have been the choices ever since he appeared, and every time a person has confronted him or been confronted by him down to this very day: will we or won’t we follow him?

     It’s the kind of choice that the people of God have always been challenged to make. We think of faith as a source of comfort or inspiration. No doubt that’s true, but sometimes we seem to forget that there’s a challenge involved with being a person of faith. The choice to follow Jesus isn’t easy. It shouldn’t be easy. If our faith is easy then frankly there’s something wrong with our faith! Long ago, even before Jesus, this was the challenge given to God’s people, from the lips of Joshua: “revere the Lord!” Put away all the other things you depend on, Joshua told the Israelites, all the other gods that are out there seeking to draw you to them, and commit yourself to serving God. That was the challenge. “... choose this day whom you will serve … but as for me and my household we will serve the Lord.” In the four thousand or so years since, the startling thing is that not much has changed. We may have been to the moon, we may have sent spacecraft beyond our own solar system, we may have gone from a society in which only the very rich had knowledge to one in which almost all knowledge is available to anyone with the click of a mouse, we may have gone from spears that could kill a person to weapons that can destroy the world - but still - at the most deepest human level, inside our very hearts and souls - there’s the same choice to be made: choose today whom you will serve. Will it be the Lord, or will it be any one of the almost innumerable false gods that are all around us all the time that try to draw us into their service and away from God.

     It seems a simple enough choice. Who wouldn’t choose to follow God? Except - it isn’t easy. No one ever said that a life of faith was going to be easy. The teachings of faith are hard to accept, and the life of faith is hard to live and the road of faith is hard to travel. Anyone who tries to claim otherwise hasn’t really read carefully the words of Jesus or considered the claim he makes on their lives or reflected on the examples of his earliest disciples.

     They had a hard life. They knew it would be hard. When I read this passage from John’s Gospel as I started to prepare today’s message, I found myself intrigued with these words that I had never paid much attention to before: “From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.” Fourteen words that had never really leaped out at me before. These were disciples of Jesus - they’re identified as such - who had decided that this was a way they simply could not adopt. Maybe the teaching was too hard to understand. Maybe the price being asked of them turned out to be too high. Maybe the life they were being called to carried too many risks. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t what they had expected; this was more than they had signed up for. There was something about being a disciple of Jesus that had suddenly made them realize that they didn’t want any part of this. Jesus’ teachings had challenged them to come into a truly deep and intimate and personal relationship with God. That type of relationship with the divine isn’t easy. It carries risks. There are a lot of reasons to back away from such a commitment. And so this group of disciples turned back. They had gone as far as they could go; as far as they were willing to go. Only a few remained. To paraphrase what Jesus would say in a different context, many will choose the wide path that leads away from God, but only a few will choose the narrow path that leads to God and to eternal life.

     We don’t know how many disciples had been travelling with Jesus at that moment, but the feeling I get from the passage is that most had chosen to stop, to leave and to go their own way. Jesus looked at the few remaining disciples, and I sense sadness in his voice: “You do not want to leave too, do you?”

     A sad Jesus. Not the picture we want, is it. But the way of Jesus isn’t easy - it wasn’t easy even for Jesus. Abandonment, betrayal - and we know where it would lead him to. It’s not easy for the disciples of Jesus. Many fall away. Many have always fallen away. Faith in Christ is not for the feint of heart. And I wonder if, even today - even right at this very moment - Jesus isn’t looking at us, and saying “You do not want to leave to, do you?”

     Sometimes it’s tempting to leave. This life of faith isn’t - or at least it shouldn’t be - an easy one. But I’d like to think that we - all of us here today - are just a little bit like Peter, who said, “Lord, to whom shall we go?” I find that those few words from Peter resonate with me. It’s not that Peter sounded especially enthusiastic. He as much as any of those who left must have realized that this was no easy stroll Jesus was calling him to. But Peter understood something much deeper. There really was no other way that would lead to true life. The way of Jesus was the way of life. The way of Jesus was the way to life. “To whom shall we go?” It’s not that there weren’t options - and it’s not that the options weren’t potentially easier than the way of Jesus - but in the light of everything Peter had come to know about Jesus the options just didn’t make any sense. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.”

     Joshua said it: “choose this day whom you will serve.” There are all sorts of spiritual options out there - all kinds of gods you can choose to follow. And in so many ways the way they hold out will be a lot easier than the way of Jesus. But the way of Jesus makes sense to me - and I hope to all of you as well. After all, it is the way of eternal life! Peter’s question was a good one for us: “To whom shall we go?”  I hope we all choose Jesus - if we dare!

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Welcoming The Introverts Among Us

I sometimes wonder why most churches seem to deliberately direct their attempts at being more "welcoming" decidedly in the direction of welcoming extroverts. Recent studies have shown that the population is actually split about 50-50 between extroverts and introverts, so by focussing almost exclusively on welcoming extroverts we're missing a big chunk of folks! True, I suppose it seems easier to try to welcome extroverts. Maybe they're more likely to just wake up one Sunday morning and say, "Gosh darn - I need my people fix already. Better head down to that church on the corner and make all sorts of new friends to hang out with later." Yes, we have to be ready for them. But what about the person who wakes up on Sunday morning thinking, "Well. I find myself contemplating the nature of my existence, and I'd like a peaceful environment in which I could do so. Perhaps an environment in which there are others quietly meditating on the same thing would be helpful. That church down the road might be the ideal place to spend some time and then come home. Alone." What about them?

OK. Those are caricatures. But still, most of our attempts at being welcoming seem fixated on greeting the extroverts among us, leaving introverts feeling very uncomfortable. I'm an introvert. That doesn't mean I'm shy and it doesn't mean I don't like people. It means that I tend to focus inward and seek solitude when I need to recharge my batteries, whereas extroverts want to engage the whole world and reach out to others to recharge theirs. I love the hustle and bustle of Sunday morning in church - shaking hands, talking, greeting, etc. But it does wear me out and I'm tired when it's all over. And here's the difference: The introvert gets tired and wants to go home, sit alone and watch a ball game; the extrovert gets tired and wants to get out with friends, find a party, and meet some new folks. The introvert wants to be away from people for a while; the extrovert wants to be around people. And, frankly, the introvert does not like being placed in socially awkward situations, surrounded by strangers.

A few days ago a friend of mine posted on Facebook this description (written by someone else) of the type of welcome received at a church the author had recently attended. I found it fascinating. It worked for the author; it would have appalled me. Here's the list of things that happened that the author referred to as a "godly welcome" but that would have struck me (as an introvert) as very much from the other place. I'll put my thoughts about each in red:

- Signs in two parking lots giving me parking permission (I don't really understand this.)
- Greeted with a handshake (Fine. No problem.)
... by one person outside the door (Fine.)
... by two people in the foyer (OK.)
... by two other people in the entrance to the sanctuary (Getting to be a bit much for my first time here.)
... by several uniformed ushers - one showing me to my seat! (Uniforms? Am I in the army? And why are you showing me to my seat. I'm quite capable of finding a place to sit! Or am I only allowed to sit in certain places?)
... after a half hour of singing followed by extended open-ended spirit-driven prayers by the people, the lead pastor carefully explained the charismatic phenomena we had just experienced (Not being especially charismatic I'd have been less than enthused but would have listened politely)
.. visitors' were asked to raise our hands (many recoil at that - too much attention - but these people were self-effacing as a body in the act and I did not feel put on the spot) (I beg your pardon? Why do I have to raise my hand? I WOULD feel put on the spot!)
... we were given a professional size visitors pack (OK. Nice touch. But I don't have to raise my hand to get it. Just leave a few at the entrance so I can pick it up if I want it.)
... the congregation sang a special welcome song for first timers (Oh please. Touchy feely. Touchy feely. Is there a group hug coming up?)
... two dozen smiling people shook my hand assuring me that I was welcome. (Two dozen? In spite of your intent, not only am I not feeling welcome - you're actually making me hyper-ventilate a little bit!)
... the person in the pew beside me saw me looking and asked if I wanted an offering envelope, yielding one with a smile (That's nice. Look for someone who seems a bit lost and offer to help. That's a good lesson to learn.)
...after service the pastor sent one of the ushers to find me (Uh - why? I just really want to go home.)
...once he had secured my name, I was welcomed to a special snack downstairs where the congenial usher and I chatted. (He "secured" my name? I probably won't want to go to the "snack" by this point, even if it is "special," but if I do I'll be polite and chat with the congenial usher.)
...Then one of the pastors and I spent friendly moments trading laughs and pastoral insights (somehow visiting churches God always blows my clergy cover)  (If by some miracle I made it this far - OK. I don't mind being sociable. I just don't want to be overwhelmed.)
... back upstairs the lead pastor - who I had only met once before - greeted me by name expressing his thanks that I had come. (OK. You're welcome.)
... as I exited several others approached to shake my hand expressing their sincere wishes for my return. (Um. Thanks - but not likely. I would not have found this an enjoyable worship experience at all.)
In all I think three dozen people went out of their way to make me feel perfectly at home (That would make me feel that this was a church that was kind of desperate to "get" me. Seriously - three dozen?Oh my Lord. I'll need to sleep for a week to get over this.)

Well, you get the point. I wouldn't mind the socializing downstairs part. I just wouldn't have made it that far. This congregation would have burned me out with their attempts at welcoming me. I'd have just been looking for the quickest way out. This experience would not have been for me, and yet it's held out as a godly experience and is apparently shared in the belief that this is how a church should act toward visitors. Sure - if all your visitors are extroverts. But what about the introverts!

I don't know that I have a real solution for how to be welcoming toward the introverts who represent about half the population - but at the very least we should be aware that they exist, remember that God loves them too, and think about ways to create an environment that works for them as well. Being friendly without being overwhelming would be good. Maybe as a general principle the idea should not be to be a welcoming church, but to be a church in which all feel welcome. There's a subtle difference between those two things. Being "a welcoming church" seems to suggest going out of your way to be welcoming; being aggressively welcoming. The exact approach that would turn me away from a church. Being a church in which all feel welcome implies to me a warm and friendly church without obvious cliques or factions, a church that gives me opportunities to chat if I choose but also to just leave if I want to, a church that has opportunities for me to join in where I choose, a church where I'm greeted by a handshake or two but not overwhelmed by three dozen people.

The most welcoming environment I think I've ever found in a church was a few years ago. I was in Chicago, and a group of us went to worship at Trinity United Church of Christ - an African American church, which used to be the home church of Barack Obama. I'm not African American. I honestly wondered how comfortable I'd feel in that environment. And it was wonderful. The service was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Longer by a long shot than any other service I'd been at. Two sermons, a drama, lots of extemporaneous prayer, lots of singing. Passionate people who were friendly but not overwhelmingly so. It was a large congregation, but I don't remember anywhere near three dozen people deliberately coming at me to shake my hand, although we were invited to get up during the service and shake hands with those around us. That was fine. The whole experience was good for me. I left that Sunday feeling good about life and good about church. I don't know how to recreate that experience, but I know it was much more introvert-friendly than what's described above.

As I said, I have no solutions for how to make introverts feel welcome. I just know that it's important to try. And I take heart from the fact that as I read the New Testament, Jesus was also an introvert. He spent a lot of time around people, but he also regularly withdrew to strengthen himself. Jesus was in both churches described above. I don't doubt that. But I think he had a soft spot in his heart for the introverts at either one.

A Thought For The Week Of August 17, 2015

"After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go." (Luke 10:1) It's all about teamwork. I look at this verse and I realize that Jesus did not send his disciples out as lone wolf evangelists. They were always part of a team - in this case they were sent in pairs; never alone, but always with someone else there with them. That's an incredible contrast to the problem of "lone wolf Christianity" that I'm seeing so much of today, which is shown in the growth of the "spiritual but not religious" movement; it's seen in the rebellion against the idea of what's referred to in increasingly dismissive terms as "organized religion." How many Christians, I wonder, don't bother going to church and aren't even especially connected with a church except perhaps on paper? Their objection will be that you don't have to go to church to be a Christian. And I agree. Being a Christian means (in some way) believing in Christ. But if one chooses to believe in Christ then I'd suggest that one has at least some obligation to follow the example and teaching of Jesus. Jesus himself was never a "lone wolf." He acted in partnership. He created a community. Yes, he took time away for himself but he always came back into the community. Among other things we know from the Gospels that Jesus attended synagogue on a regular basis. He likely didn't always agree with the teachings he found there, but he was there - regularly. So how is isolating oneself from the church following the example of Jesus? Synagogues were, among other things, "organized religion." And in this verse we discover that Jesus expected his disciples to work together - they were sent in pairs; they were partners in God's work. That's how it should be with Christians today - working together in the community that is the church. I get the reasons people have for rejecting the church and maybe just starting their own fellowships. Christians don't always act like Christ and churches don't always fulfil Christ's call or mission very well. And sure, there are times when going to church will seem like a religious club more than a community of disciples. I get that. The church isn't perfect - because Christians aren't perfect. Not even lone wolf Christians are perfect! I'm sure that those pairs of disciples that Jesus sent out into the world didn't always agree with each other. But still. Two by two. Community. Yes, you can be a Christian without being in the community of the church, but something important is missing.

August 16 2015 sermon - Why I Believe In Infant Baptism

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

(Psalm 139:1-16)

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     There was a time in my ministry when I hadn’t really thought very much about why I baptized infants. I just did. I was a United Church minister, after all, and United Church ministers baptized babies. The United Church baptized babies. It was what we did. So I did it. I wasn’t alone in conducting infant baptisms without really having given a lot of thought to the issue from a theological perspective. I had a professor once in theological college who talked about infant baptism in a class on Christian worship. He remembered a phone call he had received when he was a new minister serving his first pastoral charge. “Reverend,” a young woman asked, “do you baptize babies?” “Ma’am,” he says he replied, “this is the United Church. We’ll do anything for you. We’ll dance naked under the full moon if that’s what you want.” The class chuckled nervously at the story - nervously because we knew (or at least hoped) that the professor was joking (I really don’t know of any United Church minister who has ever danced naked under the full moon - and I can assure you that even setting aside the naked part, you don’t want to see me dance!), but we all understood that there was still an underlying element of truth to what he said. Often times, the United Church will do pretty much anything for anyone, and too often the more we’re willing to do anything for anyone, the less meaningful anything we do for anyone actually is because we don’t give it much thought. That often seems to be the case when it comes to baptizing babies. We baptize babies because people want us to; we baptize babies because it’s what we do; we baptize babies because - well - just because. And often that’s good enough.

     It was fatherhood that made me think that perhaps that wasn’t good enough and that I needed to think much more deeply about infant baptism. I was aware of the issues and the church schisms that have erupted between anabaptists (those who baptize only believers - and, therefore, only adults) and paedobaptists (those who baptize people before they’re believers - and, therefore, mostly babies and young children.) Over the years there’s been a lot of bitterness between the two camps, and once it was time to baptize my own daughter, I decided that it was also time for me to decide what was important to me about infant baptism.

     For whatever reason, when thinking about this issue then and since I have always felt myself led to Psalm 139. It’s not about baptism, of course, and I do wonder why God led me to this Psalm to help me understand the whys of infant baptism. I’m quite capable of making an argument in favour of infant baptism from the New Testament, but the more I read the psalm, the more I came to understand that it makes an important point about the nature of God and of our relationship to God. The psalmist’s relationship with God was looked at in many different ways in these verses. No matter what the psalmist was doing, God was with him: “You know when I sit and when I rise ... you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down.” No matter what the psalmist was thinking, God was with him: “you perceive my thoughts from afar. ... you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.” No matter where the psalmist went, God was with him: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? ... If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” If the psalmist moved from the physical world to the spiritual realm, even then God would be with him: “If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” God’s presence with the psalmist extended throughout time: “you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. … all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” The psalmist even understood that God’s presence with him extended beyond time itself; that it was a thing of eternity: “My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body …” The psalmist is expressing his conviction that God has always been with him; that he has always belonged to God and that he will always belong to God. Nothing he thinks, does or says can change that basic fact about all of human existence: we all belong to God. And it was this insight that helped me to begin to answer the question I raise today in my sermon title: why do I believe in infant baptism?

     The weakness of the sacramental life of the church (and I don’t just mean the United Church) is that it tends to place too much emphasis on us. Think about baptism for a moment. Most infant baptisms revolve around the promises and faith commitments of the parents, so that the baptism becomes about the parents more than either the baby or God and adult baptism places the emphasis squarely on the faith of the believer. I wonder why so much emphasis is placed on those who are receiving rather than on the God who is giving. This can lead too easily into an individualistic, works-oriented faith, in which receiving the sacraments (either baptism or Holy Communion) becomes an end in itself and in which the primary purpose of the church becomes noting what we’ve done to gain God’s favour, rather than acknowledging that, in fact, we’ve done nothing to gain God’s favour - God’s favour has simply been bestowed upon us by the work of divine grace and nothing else. So, why do I believe in infant baptism if I acknowledge some weaknesses in our understanding of it and in how we administer it in the church? It’s because I also recognize that the weaknesses belong to us - they aren’t inherent in the sacrament and they certainly aren’t God’s weaknesses. We may misunderstand the nature and purpose of the sacrament, but that doesn’t render the sacrament meaningless. It simply challenges us to deepen our understanding of the sacrament.

     I believe that, properly understood, infant baptism isn’t an evangelistic opportunity, it isn’t about the promises of the parents and it’s not even about the water. Infant baptism is in fact about divine grace, and it reminds us of a vital truth about our God: God always takes the initiative with us. Infant baptism is an acting out of a spiritual truth: that we are all, in a sense, spiritual infants. We’re helpless, and we’re totally dependent on God to reach out to us. The children we baptized today didn’t have a clue what was happening in their baptism - but that doesn’t matter. What matters isn’t what we understand - what matters is that God acts in our lives long before we have the ability to discern or appreciate God’s activity in our lives, even if we have difficulty seeing God’s activity in our lives now and even if we simply can’t understand what God is doing in our lives. God reaches out to us; we respond to God. To baptize an infant is our way of acknowledging that God is in fact actively at work even now in the life of that infant. To baptize an infant is to acknowledge that God doesn’t depend on either our response or our understanding to act decisively in our lives. Instead, it reminds us that we depend on God to act decisively in our lives before we do or understand anything, and that God does in fact act decisively in our lives even if we do or understand nothing.

     There are a lot of Christians who would disagree with me. Some Christians would be dismissive and even contemptuous of the act of baptizing a child who has no understanding of what’s happening. Others will say that being baptized as an adult makes baptism so much more meaningful to them. That’s certainly true but it misses one vital point - none of this is about us or how we feel - it’s about God and how God acts! What I’ve come to understand is that it’s in the very lack of understanding of the infant being baptized that the sacrament of baptism finds its greatest power.

     This morning we baptized three infants. I rejoice in the fact that God has been active in the lives of Quentin, Benjamin and Brooke since they were born, from the moment they first took shape in their mother’s wombs and in fact even when they were nothing more than a thought in the mind of God. I rejoice in the fact that God has been active in all of our children’s lives and in all of our lives from the very beginning of time, and even before time itself existed.

     So, why do I believe in infant baptism? Because it demonstrates to me that God will always be there for me and with me. It demonstrates to me that no matter how often I turn away from God, God will be seeking to turn me back. It demonstrates to me that no matter how many times I try to hide from God, God will seek me out. It demonstrates to me that no matter how strongly I may have denied God in the past, God was still being faithful to me. It demonstrates to me that no matter how often I may choose to ignore God’s guidance in the present, God will never give up on me. It demonstrates to me that if I haven’t done enough to earn God’s love - and who among us really has - well, God loves me anyway! Why do I believe in infant baptism? Because it demonstrates to me that God is here and that neither my faith nor the lack thereof makes one iota of difference to God’s presence, God’s power or God’s love. I believe in infant baptism because it’s an acting out of divine grace.

Video: Full Service