God's Delight

God's Delight (1/13/2008)

A Farewell Sermon by Rev. Ruth Boling

"Isaiah 42:1-9 & Matthew 3:1-17"

If you could only tell one story about Jesus, what story would you tell?  Imagine that you one shot, a single opportunity, to tell someone you care deeply about—one and only one story about Jesus.  What story would you choose?  Would it be the Christmas story?  The Easter story?  The Last Supper?  One of the miracles?  Or one of the parables—the Prodigal Son or the Good Samaritan?  Parents, imagine you had one chance to tell your children—your young children or your grown children—one story about Jesus knowing that you would tell it perfectly, and your children would listen well, what story would you choose?  Or, what if we were to choose one and only one story about Jesus to tell to ourselves, every day for the rest of our lives, which one would it be?  What do we most need to hear?  Of all the remarkable, and astonishing, and challenging stories in the Gospels, which particular story would we choose to inscribe on the walls of our souls to express who we are and shape the way we live?

If the story of the Baptism of the Lord is not on your “short list” of answers to this question, then I hope by the end of this sermon, it will be.  At my home church, Ravenswood Presbyterian Church in Chicago, there is a gorgeous stained glass window depicting the Baptism of Jesus in the narthex just above the place where the choir sits.  Whenever my mind wandered during worship—which, as a child, was quite often—I remember looking up at that window:  Jesus in a red robe, the dove hovering in the air just over his head, and underneath, the words, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”  Now that I’m a minister, I know that those words come from the Old Testament prophesy of Isaiah, “Here is my servant… my chosen one, in whom my soul delights.”  I love that word “delights”.  I love the idea that God’s soul—God’s entire being—delights in Jesus. 

If it hadn’t been for that stained glass window, however, I’m not sure this story would have been on my “radar” or even made my “short list” of best Gospel stories.  Until recent years, it hasn’t been emphasized in our tradition.  Raise your hand if you came to worship this morning knowing that today was “Baptism of the Lord” Sunday.  My point.  

Here is a little history.  Western churches, that is to say Roman Catholic and Protestant churches, have for centuries observed Epiphany on January 6^th, the Twelfth Day of Christmas, emphasizing as we did here last Sunday the arrival of the three wise men and the realization—aha!—that Jesus was the messiah for all people and not just for the Jews.  In the Eastern Church, however, January 6^th was the day for celebrating the Baptism of Jesus.  As I said during the children’s talk, the Baptism of Jesus represents another, even bigger Epiphany—aha!—about the nature of Jesus.  

In recent decades, West has met East.  We Westerners have recognized that the Eastern Church showed great wisdom in giving this story more prominence, and it’s own special Sunday, in the liturgical year.  Presbyterians are now encouraged to celebrate the Baptism of the Lord each year on the Sunday following Epiphany.  

That’s what we’re doing, and here’s why.  Pretty much everything we need to know about Jesus—who he was and what he accomplished—is contained in this story.  Not everything, but pretty much everything. 

Let’s review.  We learn first of all that Jesus is fully human and fully divine.  That’s a big one.  Let’s start with the “fully human” part:  Jesus demonstrates his humanity by choosing to be baptized by John in the Jordan along with everybody else.  John, you will remember, was preaching a baptism for repentance and forgiveness of sins.  And although it is absurd to think that Jesus would need such a thing—repentance from what?  forgiveness of what?—he chooses to be baptized anyway.  John, you will recall, tries to talk him out of it.  He tries to switch it around so that Jesus will baptize him, instead.  But Jesus is clear.  This is “necessary,” he says, in order to “fulfill all righteousness” which in this context means, to accomplish God’s will for humanity.  

By choosing to be baptized, Jesus joins himself to sinful humanity.  He casts his lot with the likes of us.  He could have chosen otherwise, and John did his best to talk him out of it, but Jesus opted in, in with the sinners.  This is what the church means when we say that Christ “put on” human nature.  He chose to identify fully with the brokenness that all of us experience.  He chose to know what it is really like to be separated from God by our own tragic choices.  “It is necessary,” he told John.  So go ahead and do it. 

And in that precise moment of complete identification with human nature, Jesus’ divine nature is revealed.  What glorious irony is packed into the short space of just a few lines of text!  Just as soon as Jesus comes up out of the water, shazam!  Here is the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove.  And, listen!  A voice from heaven says, “this is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  Voila!  An Epiphany.  Here for the first time in the Bible is revealed something new:  it would appear that there is God a Father, speaking to God a Son, in the presence of God a Holy Spirit, three in one, one in three.  Aha!  Jesus is Lord—with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  Fully divine. 

He is both fully human and fully divine.  And we see him throughout the Gospels, throughout his ministry, death and resurrection, through both of these lenses.  The mystery of Christ is that he is neither one nor the other but both.  That is why we call him Lord and Savior.  As Savior he casts his lot with humanity, accepting suffering and death for our sake, and rising again to give us Life.  As Lord, he deserves and expects our loyalty.  He gives commandments that we must keep: love God, love your neighbor, love yourself, pick up your cross and follow me. 

The second thing major thing we learn has to do with the nature of Baptism.  As you know in the Protestant church we celebrate two sacraments, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper.  Both were instituted by Christ.  The Lord’s Supper has its special observance every year on Maundy Thursday during Holy Week.  Now we Presbyterians also have a special day every year on the Sunday after Epiphany focusing on Baptism. 

Today’s story makes a very important point about what baptism is and what it isn’t.  John baptized “with water for repentance,” the scripture says.  John’s emphasis was on sin.  John’s baptism was viewed as a way to overcome sin and achieve reconciliation with God.  

With Christ, this is no longer the main emphasis of baptism.  The New Testament message is clear in this regard:  there is no one thing that we can do to overcome sin and achieve reconciliation with God.  Living a perfect life is no way to achieve reconciliation with God because living a perfect life is impossible.  But, neither is there any ritual—no sacrifice, no mechanical means, not even baptism—by which we can accomplish this.  

The Confession of 1967, a portion of which was read out loud back in my church, Ravenswood Presbyterian Church in Chicago every Sunday when I was growing up, says (quoting 2^nd Corinthians), “in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself.”  It is Christ and Christ alone who heals the breach between us and the One who made us.  There is no magic to baptism.  Baptism is rather a “sign and a seal” of something that God through Christ has already done for us.  

In today’s story, Jesus accepts John’s baptism, and turns it on its ear so to speak.  He transforms John’s version of baptism into the puzzlingly profound rite that we have today.  

Baptism, we believe, is a sign and a seal of everything that Christ accomplished. Baptism is evidence of grace, amazing grace, grace unfettered, grace running rampant.  Baptism signifies that we are loved before we know we are loved.  Baptism assures us that we are loved when we deserve not be loved.  Baptism calls us to love in response to divine love that knows no bounds.  Baptism strengthens us to approach all situations with hope.  Baptism is the reason that we grieve when a loved one dies but we are not afraid.  

When we are baptized, and when we confirm our baptism through profession of faith and membership in a Christian church, we stand with Jesus in the Jordan River, and the Holy Spirit in the form of another dove, hovers over our heads, and a voice from heaven adds, “this one who stands with Christ is also my beloved, with whom I am well pleased, in whom my soul delights.” 

Jesus’ baptism marked the end of one period of his life and the beginning of his ministry.  It is the equivalent of the Old Testament practice of anointing a new King of Israel.  It is also the equivalent of our present day practice of ordaining ministers, elders, and deacons as servant-leaders of the church.  

Today, this passage marks the end of a one period of my life and the beginning of a new ministry for me.  I feel at home here with you in the First Presbyterian Church of Forest Hills.  As I have said over and over again, especially during the gatherings with visitors and new members at the pastor’s home over the years, I felt at home the first time I walked in the door into this sanctuary, and I know that that has been the experience for many of you.  

Leaving home is not easy.  It is not a choice that I made lightly, or in a hurry.  In fact, I wasn’t even looking for a job.  But a job was looking for me.  I first heard about the Olivet Presbyterian Church on Staten Island at a Presbytery meeting last summer when their pastor of 35 years was retiring.  When I learned that the church, originally a mission to Italian immigrants on Staten Island had gone multi-cultural, like us, my ears perked up.  When I learned that the church—just a little bit larger than us—had sponsored the building of affordable housing for the elderly on church property, operated a women’s shelter in the church building every night of the year, had the longest running Vacation Bible School of any church on the island, and had initiated Muslim-Christian-Jewish dialogues after September 11, my jaw dropped.  I couldn’t believe my ears.  

When the phone rang, one day last fall out of the blue, my jaw dropped again.  The caller was an elder from Olivet Presbyterian Church.  They’d heard about me from one of my seminary friends.  Was there any chance that I’d be interested in the position of Interim Pastor?  One step led to another.  And then another.  

At all the major decision points in my life with only one exception, I have had the exact feeling that I have now about this decision.  Decision isn’t even the right word.  It’s clear.  God couldn’t have made it any clearer.  This opportunity was handed to me, and I am ready.  By God’s grace, I am ready, but that doesn’t make leaving home any easier.  I love this church.  I love Charles, and the choir, and David, and the children, and VBS.  I will miss my home. 

Some of you have asked, what next?  After my year at Olivet will I come back?  Will I be your new pastor after Charles retires?  I don’t know what will happen after my year at Olivet.  I’m taking this one step at a time.  But you must not expect me to be your new pastor after Charles retires.  

When Charles leaves, the Session will hire an Interim Pastor.  The Interim Pastor will be with you while you do a comprehensive assessment of your ministry, goals, and needs for the future.  You will then elect a Pastor Nominating Committee which will conduct a nationwide search for the very best candidate who will be the exact right match for what you need.  And let me tell you, this church is “a plum”.  This church is one of the healthiest, most dynamic and most highly respected churches in the Presbytery of New York City.  I predict you will have 100-150 applicants, and you will do yourselves a big disservice if you do not call the very best of the bunch.  The Presbytery will help you know what to do.  Trust the process—it’s a good one.  

Changes are hard, but change can be very good.  Saying goodbye is hard.  Leaving is hard.  But ministry is good.  Being the church and serving Christ in the world are good.  

Leaders come and go.  Structures change.  But our identity as joyful servants of Christ does not change.  When we stand with Christ, when we live out the meaning of our baptism, God delights in us just as God delights in Jesus.  What we do and how and where we do it will change over time, but always we are the apple of God’s eye.  We are God’s beloved.  God’s chosen ones.  God’s delight. 

Thank you, my delightful friends, for 7 ½ wonderful years.  Will you now release me with your blessing for service to the Olivet Presbyterian Church?  If so, please say, “Yes, we release you with our blessing.” 

To the glory of God.  Amen.

Rev. Ruth Boling