Hidden Depths and Hidden Shallows
A sermon preached by the Revd Canon Dr Alison Joyce
on The Festival of The Baptism of Christ, Sunday 10th January 2010
In the name of the living God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Of all the challenges that I had to face during the recent Christmas festivities, probably the most daunting, and certainly the most unexpected of them all, was being entrusted with the task of looking after two Elmhurst fan-tailed goldfish, rejoicing in the names ‘Posh and Becks’. I should add that this situation came about because, during a ‘convivial’ Elmhurst staff Christmas party, my elder daughter, who currently works there, kindly volunteered herself for fish-hosting duties over the Christmas vacation (which, strangely enough, somehow turned into my fish-hosting duties).
However, I am pleased (and relieved) to be able to report that, contrary to all expectations, and despite the ubiquitous prowling presence of the Vicarage cat, Posh and Becks survived the ordeal relatively unscathed, and were dispatched back to their proper owner yesterday morning, seemingly none the worse for their adventure, and swimming around quite happily.
But the subconscious impact upon me of this involvement with Posh and Becks may be the reason why, over the past few days, I have found myself reflecting on my all-time favourite David Beckham quotations, one of which is the following: on being interviewed by the press not long after the birth of his first son, David Beckham uttered the immortal words: “I do want to have Brooklyn christened, but I’m not sure which religion.”
I have to say that I remain constantly surprised at the surprising level of ignorance that abounds in our society about the nature of baptism. Because it is not that people are indifferent to it – on the contrary, I have no shortage of couples beating a path to my door wanting their children to be ‘done’, many of whom are not christened themselves, and some of whom appear never to have set foot in a church before, even to get married. So they often have remarkably little understanding of what it is they are actually asking for when they request a christening. They certainly don’t seem to regard it as having anything at all to do with Christian commitment or with joining the fellowship of the Church, or with bringing a child up within a faith tradition. So what exactly is going on here?
I suspect the answer is in fact a very simple one. Bringing a child into the world is an event of life-changing significance in the lives of most human beings, whatever their background, or culture, or heritage. It is an event that, at a deep level, people feel needs to be marked, publicly, in some way; it is something that needs to be celebrated. There is an understandably human desire to put a new baby centre-stage just for a moment, and to say to the world: ‘Look – isn’t this an utterly amazing thing that has happened’ – and then go and have a big family party afterwards.
And because the Church of England is one of those mainstream Christian denominations that baptises infants, in a ritual that includes the public naming of the child before the community and before God, then people look to us to fulfil precisely that kind of role for them. Our increasingly secular culture has slowly but steadily stripped away many of the rituals that once marked the key stages and principle events of human life. And yet people remain hungry for such rituals, for reasons that they may not even be able to express in words. And to that extent, I recognise something of what David Beckham was trying to say, however ineptly he expressed it.
But that also means, of course, that it can sometimes be very hard to explain to non-Church-going couples that Christian baptism is about so very much more. It can be hard to get them even to recognise that the religious part of it actually matters. I always go through the wording of the baptism service in great detail with families who want their children christened, so that they understand precisely what it entails – and yet I have actually had couples requesting that I change the wording of the baptism service, in order to tone down the Christian bit. (I shall leave to your imagination the answer that they received).
So, what is Christian baptism really all about? The obvious place to look for an answer to this question is, of course, the New Testament, where John the Baptist, out in the wilderness, proclaimed the coming of the Lord’s promised Messiah, and called people to a baptism of repentance, washing them free from their past sins. The baptism offered by John was about cleansing; renewal; preparation for the new life that would be theirs in the kingdom of God that the coming Messiah will inaugurate. And it is John who recognises Jesus as the Christ, the promised one, and officially launches his ministry, by baptising him.
But the Baptism of Christ is quite unlike any other baptism that John has ever administered. Because, as we heard in our gospel reading a moment ago, when John baptises Jesus, suddenly that sacramental act gains a significance that is far more than simply being washed clean of past sins in preparation for a new future. Because the Baptism of Christ marks the transition into that very future; it is a moment of revelation - the point at which the Holy Spirit descends upon Jesus, and the heavenly voice reveals his true identity: ‘You are my son, the beloved. In you I am well pleased.’ And it is the point at which Jesus himself becomes the bearer of the Spirit, the one who is empowered to confer that Spirit on those who turn to him.
So, from this point onwards, baptism in Christ’s name becomes a channel through which the power and the grace of God is actually communicated and conveyed – which is why from Jesus onwards, it comes to be associated with the gift of the Holy Spirit. And because it is a rite of initiation into the new kingdom, it naturally became the hallmark of belonging to the people of God in the new Messianic era that has dawned with the coming of Christ.
For the first followers of Christ, baptism was a very big deal. In the early Church baptisms traditionally took place on Easter day, and, leading up to this momentous and life-changing event, those seeking baptism were required to undergo a forty day period of prayer, and fasting and penitence in preparation for this – which is, of course, the origins of the Church’s penitential season of Lent. Baptism was a hugely significant life-commitment, particularly during times when Christians were persecuted for their faith. And I feel sad sometimes, that we are at times in danger of losing sight of quite how significant it truly is.
Because baptism is powerful, and dynamic; it is about cleansing and renewal and new life; it is about receiving the grace of God, and being empowered with the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is about belonging to the family of God. But at the same time, is not something that we earn, it is a gift that is ours for the receiving. It is a gift that is open and available to all.
So when I am dealing with those who ask to have their children christened, with very little idea of what it is that they are actually requesting, I can’t help feeling that it is a bit like giving the keys of a brand new sports car to a six month old baby. The baby may have great fun for a few minutes playing with the keys; rattling them; probably putting them in his mouth. And then he will forget about them because the novelty has worn off and he has been distracted by something else instead. He has absolutely no idea, of course, that the keys are merely the means of accessing something else much, much more exciting – something utterly amazing – something wonderful. Because he can see no further than the bunch of keys. He has no means of understanding the real point of what it is he has been given. And if you did try to explain it to him, even by showing him the car, you still wouldn’t get very far.
And yet, despite all that I have said, I have always been, and I remain, a staunch supporter of the practice of infant baptism. Because baptism is about the grace of God; it is about belonging; and because, regardless of anything other factors, one day it may, just possibly, come to matter very much to that child that there is a faith tradition that is his, or hers, by right, by virtue of that baptism.
The reason that I say this is because it happened to me. When, as a young adult, I decided to explore the Christian faith properly, really for the first time, having never been confirmed, or even darkened the doors of a church for many years, the prospect of going to an unknown service in an unknown church felt quite intimidating. And yet, I can remember thinking at the time: “But hang on a minute. I was baptised in the Church of England when I was four months old. This is my Church. I have a right to be part of its life.” And I never looked back.
I have no recollection of the clergyman who baptised me on 24th May 1959, because we moved from that particular town when I was barely four years old. But I do know his name, because it is on my baptism certificate. And in the year 2005, just before I was licensed here, I happened to notice that his death was recorded in the obituaries column of the Church Times. And on a whim, I looked up his address in Crockford, the famous clerical directory, in which the details of all Church of England clergy are listed, and I wrote to his widow. I expressed my condolences to her, and then went on to say how very conscious I was of the strangely significant role that her husband had played in my life, by launching me on my own Christian journey, that had led, eventually, to my ordination - without my ever having known him.
I had no idea whether my letter would ever reach its destination, and I certainly didn’t expect a reply. But to my utter astonishment, about three months later, when I had all but forgotten that I had written, I received a letter back. It had been written on behalf of his widow, who it seems was too elderly and frail to deal with her own correspondence, by her brother.
He told me that she was enormously grateful to me for having taken the trouble to write and send my condolences. He included a couple of her own reminiscences about their time in my home town, and concluded the letter by telling me that their son had also been ordained. Bizarrely, it turned out that he and I would have been exact contemporaries at different theological colleges in Oxford, training for the ministry at the same time. So it is undoubtedly the case that I will have known that young man by sight, without ever realising who he was, because we would have attended the same lectures in the university.
Christian baptism is so very much more than merely a human ‘rite of passage’, however much people try to use it like that these days. It has a power all of its own, that can lead us … who knows where. (After all, look where I ended up!). And above all, it reminds us that we must never ever underestimate the efficacy of the grace of God, and the power of his Spirit.
Amen.