Showing posts with label john the baptist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john the baptist. Show all posts

Sunday, July 5, 2020

Labels & Boxes - Redeemer Episcopal Church



Matthew 11:16-30 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

16 “But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

17 ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
    we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

18 For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; 19 the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

25 At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

28 “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”


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I preached this sermon for our pre-recorded Morning Prayer for July 5, 2020 at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida. It is preached to a specific people in a specific time and place, but I believe that God can transcend that and I hope it might also speak to you. You can listen to the raw recording of the sermon here.

If you are one of my friends who forced me to go to Chick-fil-A that day in seminary, then I'm still kind of mad at you because Chick-fil-A has trash politics. And also lol, I was so pretentious back then (still am). 




One of my favorite stories from seminary was one of the first times my husband and I spent time off campus. We went to a fast food restaurant with a few other people we barely knew, and started chatting like new friends do. Everyone was asking different questions rapid fire about each other’s lives: are you a liberal or conservative, where are you from, what denomination are you, were you a camp counselor, did you attend campus ministry? 

These were all questions that were seemingly innocuous, but had a very specific purpose. They would put each of us in a certain “box.” Each question said enough about the one answering to allow everyone else to make broad assumptions about them. I got quiet during parts of the conversation and Daniel asked why. “I don’t like labels,” I said, “I’d rather people just get to know me instead of putting me in some kind of box.” 

It has been seven or so years since that conversation, but Daniel, my husband, brings it up every so often when I label myself in some way. “I thought you hated labels” he’ll say. “No,” I reply, “I hate the box.” 

Right before the gospel text we hear this morning, Jesus has instructed his twelve disciples and sent them on their way. Then John the Baptizer, who is in jail, sends word that Jesus is out preaching and sends all of his followers to go listen to him. John’s disciples question Jesus and Jesus sends them back to John, telling them to tell John everything they’d heard and seen: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.

Then Jesus begins speaking to the crowds that had gathered around him. This is where our reading for this morning picks up: right in the middle of Jesus’ teaching. He seems annoyed that people continue to question him and John the Baptizer, even though the people had seen great signs being performed by these men. Still they doubted. But why? 

It’s easy for us to see, 2000 years removed, that Jesus was fulfilling all sorts of prophecies, so it’s unfathomable that the people wouldn’t believe that he was the Son of God. But people had… expectations of the messiah. When someone came with the label “messiah,” there was a box that people put him in. 

“What is the messiah supposed to look like?” Jesus asks. John came and lives an austere lifestyle: he didn’t eat or drink like an old-school prophet and people doubted him— more than that, they said he had a demon!

Then on the other hand, Jesus came and ate and drank and gathered with sinners and people called him a glutton and a drunkard. 

What then, was the messiah supposed to look like? Jesus asks. 

Jesus seems a bit frustrated by being forced into box because of who he associates with and people’s pre-judgements about who the messiah is. He calls the crowd foolish children playing in the market. 

They cannot see the truth that is right in front of them. The truth of Jesus’ true identity. 

I think about all of the ways people are misunderstood today due to stereotypes. We assume we know something based on a tiny detail, like where she grew up or where they went to school, or their gender or his age or the color of his skin— any number of things that do not capture the complexity of how we are as individuals. And these stereotypes that we assign to people, these boxes that we put them into based on these small aspects of their lives, can be dangerous. At the very least, it takes away from the unique child that God knit as an individual. And in some cases it leads to discrimination and violence, it has even led to the genocide of entire peoples. 

In Jesus’ case, the assumptions that his community and the religious authorities made about him led to his arrest and death. Because they didn’t recognize Jesus for who he really was— a child of God, THE child of God, the messiah.

How often do we do this? Pre-judging people for the company that they keep, the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, or where they are from. How often has it lead to deep and abiding pain in our community, our country, and our world? 

Yet Jesus says that wisdom is vindicated by her deeds. 

And we worship a God who DID something. We worship a God who broke all of the preconceived notions of a deity and become flesh in the form of a tiny baby to a poor unknown family. We worship a God who threw off the labels of the world and gave sight to the blind, healed the sick, cleansed the lepers, raised the dead, and brought good news to the poor. We worship a God who takes the stereotypical and prejudiced boxes of this world, turns them upside down, and smashes them to bits. 

We worship a God who peels away the labels of our lives, peels away the labels that we have given ourselves and the ones that have been forced upon us. And declares that the labels of this world are nothing. And we worship the God who took nothing… and made everything. 

God, who created the entire expanse of the universe washes us so completely the waters of baptism and then declares, “You are my beloved. You are my child. Look at what I have done for you.”

And then God invites us into the story. To look beyond the boxes of sin, death, and the devil and begin to imagine and understand the world that God has promised to us and has begun in us through Christ Jesus. A world without labels or boxes, except the only true one identity that matters: you are a child a God. Amen. 

Sunday, January 19, 2020

Point to Christ - Redeemer Episcopal Church


John 1:29-42 

29 The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, "Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! 30 This is he of whom I said, "After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.' 31 I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel." 32 And John testified, "I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. 33 I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, "He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.' 34 And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God." 35 The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, 36 and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, "Look, here is the Lamb of God!" 37 The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. 38 When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, "What are you looking for?" They said to him, "Rabbi" (which translated means Teacher), "where are you staying?" 39 He said to them, "Come and see." They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon. 40 One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. 41 He first found his brother Simon and said to him, "We have found the Messiah" (which is translated Anointed). 42 He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, "You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas" (which is translated Peter).

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church on January 19, 2020. You can read the sermon below, or listen to it at the link here



God of grace, give us the courage and strength to point to you in everything that we do and how we live our lives, so that others might come and see that Christ Jesus is the messiah, meant for the whole world. Amen.

I have always been a very visual person. I have a hard time remembering anything unless it is written down or put into a picture. Perhaps that is why, of all of the things we studied when I was in seminary, what I remember most are the pieces of religious artwork. 

One painting in particular comes to mind whenever we talk about John the Baptist, not only because it is one of the most famous, but because it says the most in its detail. 

Fifteenth century artist Matthias Grunewald painted a particularly graphic depiction of the Crucifixion of Jesus called the Isenheim Altarpiece. On Jesus’ right is his mother Mary, being held as she faints, by the beloved disciple. To the left of the cross is John the Baptist, which is a little weird since John was dead for several months or even years before Jesus’ crucifixion, but apparently he was taking some artistic liberties. 

Anyway, John the Baptist is standing there with the Hebrew Scriptures in his left hand and with his right, he is pointing with this long bony, unnatural looking finger to the cross where Jesus hangs. At John’s feet is a snow-white lamb, and out of his mouth comes the Latin script, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” 

This painting of John the baptist pointing to Christ is what the Gospel narrative is all about. 

All of John the Baptist’s ministry is about pointing to Christ, taking the attention away from himself, and putting Jesus first. 

Imagine this scene: John the baptist is a fairly popular preacher and prophet at this point, baptizing people in the Jordan River day after day and preaching about the coming of the son of man. He has crowds surrounding him and people following his every word. But as soon as Jesus shows up, he continues this preaching while pointing directly at Jesus. “This is him! This is the one I’ve been talking about!” I can almost imagine him jumping up and down and waving his arm frantically to get everyone’s attention: “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” And immediately, some of John’s disciples leave to follow Jesus. I imagine it take a lot of humility to watch that happen— to watch the people who have been following you for years leave to follow someone else. But then again, everything that John is, is caught up in who Jesus is. John is because Jesus is. There is no separation from that. 

The season that we are in, the season of Epiphany, is about the manifestation of Christ to the entire world, it’s about pointing to the light of Christ and saying, “it’s him: he is the light of the world, he is the messiah.” Or as John the Baptist proclaimed, “"Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” 

This painting of John the baptist pointing to Christ is what a life of discipleship is all about. This is what is means to be a disciple of Christ, this is at the heart of what it means to be Christian. We are called to point to Christ in all aspects of our lives. 

Increasing our proclamation of Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection to the point that people can’t separate our identity from Christ’s identity. 

This is not an easy call. It is a call that put the disciples into hiding and ended up making many Christian martyrs. It is something that must be practiced and disciplined constantly. And the only way we can orient our lives toward Christ is if we know Christ. And to know Christ, we must know this story: the story, that from the beginning, points toward the incredible life-giving grace of God. It requires study, and prayer, and relationship. It is, quite literally my job to point to Christ in how I live my life, and even I’m not that good at it!


But friends, the good news is that no matter whether we are always pointing vehemently to Christ, whether we are led astray by the temptations of the world, or whether we are just too darn defeated to point or be pointed toward our God, the Messiah still comes.  The lamb of God still enters the world to take away the sin of the world.  The light still shines in the darkness… and the darkness will not, can not overcome it.  God promised a Messiah, and regardless of ourselves, God keeps God’s promise. 
  
Karl Bart wrote, “all of theology is in that single, bony, finger.”

Our call every day is to take every opportunity as an opportunity to point the bony finger.  Point to Christ.  

Baptized in the waters we cannot help but raise a bony finger pointing to Christ.  Pointing to the Messiah, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Baptized in these waters, we can’t help but invite people into this community and into this new way of life. And all we have to do is follow Christ’s example and say, “come and see.” Amen.

Sunday, January 12, 2020

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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