I'll believe on your behalf today - Redeemer Episcopal Church

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.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on January 12, 2020 at Redeemer Episcopal Church. You can read the sermon below, or listen to it (with infusions from the Spirit) at the link here. 

Let us pray. 

Almighty God, thank you for the gift of water of Baptism, that we may be reborn into a new unity and community with Christ Jesus by the Holy Spirit. Help us to remember the promises we have made in baptism and the promises that you have made for all of creation. Amen. 

Many of you know that one of the main reasons I am here in this ministry is because of the campus ministry I was a part of at Ohio State, where I did my undergraduate work. It is an incredible place called Jacob’s Porch, and is known for worship services that are emotional, moving, and vulnerable. 

During an incredibly difficult autumn, I went to worship with many of the friends I had met there in campus ministry. Our lives seemed to be changing too quickly for our own comfort, there had been multiple bomb threats on campus that particular week, news in the United States and the world seemed to be going from bad to worse with each day. We knew we needed to worship, but we weren’t sure how we were going to do it, with our hearts and minds heavy with grief. 

After the first few hymns, I found myself even further in the depths of grief and began to cry, the heavy, unstoppable kind of crying that is really hard to hide, even when you’re in a crowd. As we began to break into small groups for prayer stations, the worship leader came to my side and began to comfort me with her presence. 

“I don’t know how to do this.” I cried. 

“Do what?” She asked. 

“Believe. When everything seems so horrible and it all seems to be going so wrong all around me and around the world. How do I believe? I don’t think I can.” 

What she said next, I will never ever forget. And it might be the single thing I can point to that led me to where I am today. 

She said, “Just stay with us, be here now. I’ll believe on your behalf today.” 

I’ll believe on your behalf today. 

This is what it means to be baptized into the body of Christ. 

When babies are presented for baptism in this church, we gather around them and we make promises on their behalf. 

If you don’t mind, take that Book of Common Prayer out from your pew. Turn to page 302 and follow along. 

Parents and godparents stand before the water with the baby who has just been presented to receive the Sacrament of Baptism, and they promise to be responsible for seeing that the child is brought up in the Christian faith and life. They believe on the child’s behalf today, so that someday the child might have the same faith that unites us all. 

Parents and godparents promise that by their prayer and witness, they will help the child grow into the full stature of Christ. 

Then they renounce several things on behalf of the child: Satan, all the spiritual forces that rebel against God, all the evil powers that corrupt and destroy the creatures of God, and all the sinful desires that draw us from the love of God. 

Parents and godparents continue on with these vows, promising to believe on the child’s behalf for a while, to be strong in faith, and love Christ until the children can understand what that means. 

We will believe on your behalf today little child, they promise. 

Then finally, my favorite part: the priest turns to the congregation and asks “Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support this child in their life in Christ?” 

And we answer a hearty “we will!” 

Every single time we witness a baptism, we have the opportunity to remember our own and promise once again to be a part of the body of Christ by supporting, loving, and nurturing the person being baptized. 

And that is what makes baptism so incredible, so magnificent, and so absolutely unbelievable— the fact that in this water, in this Holy Sacrament, we suddenly have entered into an entire community of sisters and brothers. We are suddenly surrounded by all of our ancestors and the wondrous cloud of witnesses. 

And all of these people, and the Holy Spirit, the God of wonder, the God who came to earth as Christ Jesus and was baptized himself in the Jordan, are suddenly apart of our very essence. We are one body. And we are held together with the knowledge that when any of us are struggling to feel near to God, when any of us are struggling to believe in the incarnation or the goodness of God. When any of us are too tired or angry or sad or weary to even pray, the rest of the body of Christ says, “Just stay with us, be here now. I’ll believe on your behalf today.”

This is, of course, the reason for the incarnation. It is the reason that we celebrated Christmas and the birth of Christ. Because we can’t do this on our own, so God came to be among us and to live with us as a man named Jesus. 

I don’t think there is much more in this world that is as important as God’s devotion to us through Christ Jesus and baptism. God’s willingness to be present with us and bind us to God and to one another in something so common as water. It’s on purpose that God comes to us in things so common as water, bread, and wine. Because it means that we have so many opportunities to remember God’s promise to us— the promise of eternal life in Christ. We have the opportunity to remember every morning as we wash our face, as we drink our first cup of water, as we step out into the especially humid Florida air. Every time it rains, as we drive across the river, or when we visit the ocean. Every time we bathe our child or put a pot of water on the stove to boil. These are all opportunities for us to remember who and whose we are: God’s beloved children. 

At my husband’s church, St. Mark’s Lutheran over in San Marco, they have a big brick baptismal font that sits in the back of the sanctuary. Our son Bennet was baptized there. He was fully dressed in my brother’s white baptismal clothes and we plopped him right into the middle of font and splashed around with him. When he enters my husband’s church, we pick him up and say “remember your baptism, baby.” He dips his hand into the font and splashes his own forehead with that holy water. Then he does it again for anyone who is standing within arms-reach of him. Remember your baptism, Dada. Remember your baptism, Mama. Remember your baptism, Grandma. And he doesn’t understand it yet, but we are believing on his behalf today so that one day, not too long from now, when he really does deeply understand the love of God, he can splash around in that water and say to someone like me or you, “I’ll believe on your behalf today. Remember your baptism.”  

If you are feeling moved by the Holy Spirit, and would like to be baptized this morning, I invite you to come forward to the font. God is here in this place and in this water. You are welcome here. Amen. 

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Strive for justice and peace in all the earth

"To strive for justice and peace in all the earth is a kind of crescendo at the end of our baptismal commitments. To paraphrase the Gospel according to John, when 'people love darkness more than the light' (3:19), we don’t respond with condemnation but instead by shining Christ’s light to expose the weakness of the shadows." 

This is how Rev. Drew Tucker, the University Pastor at Capital University describes the final baptismal promise. 

Finding time to care about-- let along do anything about-- justice and peace while we are in college can feel incredibly overwhelming. I have heard a lot of critiques of my generation (millennials) and the generations after mine. Whether we are snowflakes, self-absorbed, social media crazed, obsessed with avocado toast, or killing various restaurant chains and industries, there seem to be many reasons to complain about college students these days. Many older people assert that things should just go back to the "good old days" before complications like smart phones and empathy. 

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't critical of my own and younger generations at times, but I find so much hope in young adults today as well. It is probably the reason I have a passion for young adult and campus ministry. Not a day goes by that the deep convictions and empathy of people younger than myself teach me to be more like Jesus. 

Indeed, campus ministry is often where the journey in pursuit of justice and peace begin for many people. Josh Hayes, a previous student at Jacob's Porch puts it this way: 

"Campus ministry was where I first heard the term social justice. Nearly everyone I know from JP (Jacob's Porch) is still extremely active in the realm of justice and the pursuit of peace. Though it can be difficult to work toward justice, the knowledge of what it means to those who have been treated unjustly is the most compelling call to action."

Pastor Tucker confirms this idea that sometimes campus ministry is where the roots of justice and peace take hold of God's children and refuse to be pulled up.  

"In my various experience in Lutheran campus ministry, I’ve seen students take the lead on including people who identify as LGBTQ+ fully in the life of the church. I’ve seen campus communities open their empty housing to refugee families in need. I’ve seen white, straight, cisgendered, male students use their privilege to center the voices of people of color, women, immigrants, and others typically marginalized in our society. Most recently, I’ve been invited to celebrate the transition of a student in worship with an affirmation of baptism that honors God's grace offered long before the transition and is now experienced anew in the fullness of his life. For me, campus ministry is where the light of God’s call for justice and peace pierces the shadowy veils of judgment with God’s expansive, inclusive love."

As busy as college students often are, I and others have witnessed over and over again the drive and passion that students have for seeking justice and peace in the places and times they live in today. I have never heard a student say, "I know there is a lot of suffering in the world, but I can't do anything about it now. Let me wait until I graduate." Rather, I more often hear students say things like, "I know there is suffering and injustice in the world, and right here on this campus. How can I be a part of the change right now?"

Although campus ministry doesn't always get it right and we have a long way to go to look like the Kin-dom of God, I love being able to reply, "by joining in what we are doing at campus ministry, you can help us change not only this community but this campus and the world."  

Serve all people following the example of Jesus

As we approach the last few weeks of this Lenten season, we continue to reflect on what it might look like to strive toward our baptismal promises in the context of campus ministry. 

The second to last promise (or, really, only part of the final promise) is to "serve all people following the example of Jesus." 

What a hefty promise. I don't know about you, but I have described myself in many different ways-- none of those ways has been "Jesus-like." We understand Jesus to be the incarnation of our one true God, so how in the world are we supposed to follow Jesus (God's) example? 

Not to mention, this promise also says, "serve all people."

Not "serve people on days you are rested and happy."

Not "serve just the people who look like you." 

Not "serve people who are nice to you and serve you." 

Not "serve people who live near you." 

We are called to serve all people, all the time. Talk about a tall order. 

I have never been so encouraged about this promise as when I worked with the students at Jacob's Porch, the campus ministry at Ohio State. OSU is in the capitol city of Ohio and as such, it has a lot of people and a large homeless population. The area around campus didn't have as many homeless people as downtown, but we still saw them pretty frequently on the city bus, walking to classes, and in the parking lots behind our favorite restaurants. Some of them made a meager living by selling newspapers, others pulled cans and bottles from the dumpsters to sell them. 

The students at Jacob's Porch began to create relationships with some of the homeless men in the area. Somehow, despite all of the other things college students had to worry about on a daily basis, these students thought they should be doing more. We had a free meal with worship every Sunday night (and sometimes other days of the week, too), so they invited the men to come and enjoy the warmth and have a bit of food. The only requirement is that they had to be sober if they wanted to eat and stay. Some just came for dinner, some enjoyed a nap on the couches while we worshiped amidst their snoring. I imagine Jesus really enjoyed these gatherings of misfits and weirdness. (Wouldn't Jesus love coming to worship with a couple of homeless men snoring on couches among young energetic college students singing and stomping praises to God?) 

Some of the more committed students started helping the homeless men find better employment or get counseling for mental illness. It wasn't always easy, but they continue to work hard to serve all people following the example of Jesus. 

Josh Hayes, a student during these interesting years describes it this way: 

"JP (Jacob's Porch) had outreach programs for those struggling in our direct vicinity. we endured numerous setbacks from exposing ourselves in that way, but these did not deter us and made us more convicted in our service. I still see a few of those we assisted thriving when I go back to that area with good jobs and healthy lives we helped spark. Beyond that, we welcomed people into our space and provided comfort, healing, and advice to not only our fellow students, but any individuals we were capable of serving. not only this, but if we were unable to serve them appropriately they were referred directly and clearly to those institutions that could."

To be clear, it wasn't the university asking Jacob's Porch to "fix the homeless problem" or even serve these folks. The pastors in the area didn't even ask the students to participate in the Kin-dom in this way. The students saw people in need around them and served them to the best of their ability. At one point, they were able to provide food to anyone who knocked on the door, any day of the week. It was a wonder to behold, and undeniably humbling.

Proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed

Of all the baptismal promises, perhaps this one is the most elusive. What does it mean to "proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed?" Do we have to do it every day? Does it mean we actually have to talk about Jesus?

I'm not sure I know the answers to any of these questions, but I can tell you that I think I have witnessed the fulfillment of this promise in community at campus ministry.

I've seen this promise fulfilled in "Cov House Thanksgiving" when we gather together to love, sing, eat, and laugh.

I've seen it in playing Cards Against Humanity with some of my kindest, most dear friends and being appalled at the nonsense we come up with.
I've witnessed it in college students collecting blankets for the homeless people around campus as the weather turns bitter.

I've witnessed it in heartfelt notes written to Young Adults in Global Missions students.
I've seen it in patient conversations over gingerbread houses.

I've seen the promise fulfilled as college students decide to help a woman remodel her house on a Saturday afternoon instead of whatever else they could be doing on that hot, humid day in South Carolina.

I've witnessed this as students sit on the lawn and ask complete and total strangers about their stories. They listen, love, and make new friendships and connections just by being present.

I have seen this promise fulfilled in sitting together, doing seemingly mindless work, talking with one another about our lives and dreams. We cut and tie, making "plarn" to be knit into mats for our homeless siblings in town. 

I am not at all sure what it means to "proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed," but I do believe that it is best done in community, with people who care deeply for one another, who can vulnerable and honest with one another. And with people who truly love God and love the Gospel. I believe that proclaiming the good news is less about knowing the Gospel, and more about experiencing it and living into it every day of our lives.