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.

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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Ordinary Messy Lives - Redeemer Episcopal

Matthew 1:18-25 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Birth of Jesus the Messiah

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on December 22, 2019 at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, FL. You can read the manuscript below and/or listen to my sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at the link here. 

If you’re anything like my family, you’ve been singing songs about Christmas for about a month now— maybe even longer. Lots of these songs are about the utter joy and amazement with which we greet the baby Jesus. Some songs exclaim about the angels, shepherds, wise men, and the stars that seemed to gleam brighter with every passing hour. Some songs talk about stillness and the various farm animals that were present that evening. I’m sure we will sing most of them here on Christmas Eve and maybe even on Christmas morning.

But this version of the incarnation— Matthew’s version— sounds a bit different. 

Unlike many of the stories we hear of Jesus’ birth, Matthew only gives the actual birth about a verse and a half he says— “Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way (then all the way at the end of the passage)… she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.” It’s very simple, nothing about angels appearing to shepherds, nothing about Mary going to visit her cousin and babies jumping for joy in the womb. There is no long travel to Bethlehem, and nothing about the lack of room in the inn. 

But what this story does tell us is about the ordinary-ness, and the messiness of the world that Jesus would be born into. 

We hear that there is nothing particularly special about this family, a man and a woman who are in the process of being married, but haven’t quite brought their households together yet. They are young and normal, until the young woman is pregnant and it appears there is some messiness, perhaps even scandal. 

We hear about the turmoil and fright that Jesus would be born into, the conflict and strife. Imagine the fear and anxiety both Joseph and Mary would be feeling as they relied fully on the words of God’s messengers and brought a baby into the world without fully understanding his paternity. It was a wild scandal in their day. Something that could cause Mary to be left by her husband without anyone to support her or she could even be stoned to death. 

But these were all the messy, ordinary, human issues that people encountered often in Jesus’ time. There was nothing particularly special about the holy family. Even that now-common name for them— “holy”— seems to not quite fit Matthew’s narrative. 

The “holy family” didn’t have people following them around like the Kardashians or have 24/7 news coverage like the next presidential election. Everything was quite ordinary, quite common. There were no press releases or baby shower invitations, no social media blasts. 

They were not a king and queen, there was not even anything particularly special about the couple as common people. Except, of course, their faithfulness. They were much like you and me, trying to make their way in the world and follow God’s direction for their lives. 

And I think God was intentional about this. God CHOSE this quaint, normal, sort of messy family to come into the world. 

God CHOSE to come to us as a child, as a small and fragile, and ordinary baby. 

And yet. This was no ordinary birth. This was no ordinary baby. 

Both Mary and Joseph knew this reality. We hear it from God’s messenger to Joseph, that this baby will fulfill old prophecies. And from Mary, in Luke’s gospel and repeated several times this morning in worship, we hear her incredible song of praise. 

It is a song that tells more than a story of a simple family during a simple time, having a simple baby boy. 

It is the story of God doing incredible things through the humblest of people. It is the story of God bringing the most powerful people down from their thrones. It is the story of God turning the world upside down and inside out by lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things, and sending the rich away empty. 

It is a song of praise at the wonder and awesomeness of our God, because Mary knows that this will be no simple birth, the child that she holds within her womb will be no ordinary baby, this will be no normal man. 

He will be the man who will bring all of these things to pass— he will be the one to begin the revolution, to jump-start the end of times, to usher in the reign of God in this world. From ordinary, humble, simple, and sometimes messy lives, this baby, Christ Jesus, will change the world. 

And I don’t want to give too much away, but if you stick around for the rest of the story, God does marvelous things with messy lives— like a couple of fishermen, some tax collectors, and a few faithful women. In the ordinary water of baptism, God grants us new life and renames us beloved. And even here, at this table this morning, God takes the most ordinary bread and wine and feeds it to us at the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one whose birth we will witness in just a few short days, and whose coming again we long for with anticipation. 

Praise God that God might do the same with our own ordinary, humble, simple, and sometimes messy lives. And our own faithfulness. Amen. 

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