The Searchers (Mark 1:4-11)

The Searchers 

Growing up, I traveled with my father around the back roads, making our way to check on various places where we pastured cattle or had crops planted.  Going down one dirt road after another, I remember being quite puzzled why one of these roads seemed to veer off in another direction, a strangely sharp turn around a bend.  (Note: Given that this was Kansas, a much flatter terrain, I know that a road like this does not sound that much out of the ordinary to Vermonters.)  One day as we made our way down that particular road and neared the strange veering off along the road, I asked my father why the road was so oddly designed.

            Father pointed out a bramble of trees and brush just beyond the bend. He told me that decades ago the road used to go straight ahead, leading to a homestead about a quarter mile over the horizon.  When the land sold, the farm house and the road were abandoned. The road reverted back to weed trees and tall grass, and the county road crew just made due by reshaping the rest of the intersection as best they could.  Unless you knew where to look, you’d think that there had never been a road there.

            The British Baptist theologian Paul Fiddes tells the story of workers renovating an old residence.  Working in the basement, they were quite puzzled by a pit they found downstairs. Was it the place where coal was stored up until needed for heating the family home?  They had never quite seen one just like it.  After some inquiries, they discovered that the house used to be a small Baptist chapel, which eventually sold the property to a developer decades ago.  The chapel had been turned into a duplex, and the “coal pit” turned out to be the one-time congregation’s baptistery!

            These two stories remind us that times change.  A house was built by an enterprising family in one generation and a couple of generations removed, the years of work creating a homestead out on the Kansas prairie became a curious footnote, nearly forgotten.  What looked like a coal pit was really a sacred place, a “home” of sorts for the faithful, where they were to be brought into the fellowship of a congregation and more importantly, to follow Jesus obediently into the baptismal waters. 

A congregation could build a chapel (in this sense of the word, a smaller church building), and years later the very focal point of a Baptist worshipping community (its baptistery) had been long disused, its original purpose forgotten as the congregation moved on to build bigger facilities elsewhere or the fellowship simply disbanded at some point in the past. 

Today we encounter a road of sorts.  The path to baptism and the way of discipleship intersect necessarily where we move from being an interested learner to the decision to follow Jesus as believers.  Each Christian has to follow this pathway (though curiously the road may seem longer or shorter, steeper or smoother, depending on the faith journey made by an individual).  Nonetheless, along that way, as a person moves toward baptism and the life of discipleship, the Church has the task of road upkeep.  Without a community of believers encouraging and supporting newcomers to the faith, the pathways might be forgotten, leaving very little clue about how to find one’s way along the path of Christian discipleship. 

This past year, we only had one baptism.  Christopher Redding came to First Baptist, thanks in part to the encouragement of his grandmother and parents and the time we spent together talking about the faith.  I again apologize for the “cold mountain stream water” he encountered the day he was baptized, yet nonetheless, he became a follower of Jesus through his exploration of faith, his study of Christian scriptures and readings, and his willingness to search, ask questions and ponder the beliefs of Christianity in his heart.  The membership numbers may not have leapt upwards by the dozen in 2011, yet I believe we helped Christopher begin a lifelong journey.  Some of this journey ahead is by his continuing choice to do so.  Nonetheless, this congregation and others in his future have the task of being places where pilgrims on the journey can find hospitality, support and opportunities to grow.

After all, what else are congregations for?

On PBS this winter, the second series of Downton Abbey will air over the course of several Sunday evenings.  Set in the era around the first World War, the story traces the waning years of a country estate where the aristocrats watch their world of privilege being outmoded and the dozens of household and grounds staff get caught up in the changes sweeping society (the suffrage movement, the escalation up to WWI, the growing opportunities for persons to leave the rural villages in pursuit of greater opportunities in the city, etc.). 

At the helm of the family and ancestral estate is the Lord of the estate, Sir Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham.  He is the last of a line, and through situations beyond his control, he finds his title and the estate’s future in question.  A distant cousin, never in consideration as an heir, becomes the inheritor of the estate and title when two relatives die in the sinking of the Titanic.  Now trying to make the best of it, Lord Grantham is introducing his cousin Matthew to what will await the younger man when the estate and title are passed over.  Walking around the estate grounds, the two men look at the large manor home, a sight that Cousin Matthew is not quite ready to consider “his” someday.  Sir Robert observes,

Lord Grantham: You do not love the place yet.
Matthew Crawley: Well, obviously, it’s…
Lord Grantham: No, you don’t love it. You see a million bricks that may crumble, a thousand gutters and pipes that may block and leak, and stone that will crack in the frost.
Matthew Crawley: But you don’t?
Lord Grantham: I see my life’s work.

Sometimes we lose sight in congregations about our basic mission.  We build places of worship and then spend more time worrying about upkeep than we do mission. When Downton Abbey first aired a year ago, I quoted Lord Grantham’s line about “a million bricks that may crumble, a thousand gutters and pipes, stone cracking in  the frost” at the Trustee meetings as it spoke to one of the tensions we deal with having such a large building.  Yet I also quoted the other of Lord Grantham’s lines regarding the property:  “I see my life’s work.”

Here in this place, we have a mission that is delightfully diversified. In part, we have the missional church work of providing space to community programs and various non-profit activities that help people meet their basic human needs.  This work has helped us generate revenue to tackle present and deferred upkeep needs, while also raising our value in the community as a place where people can find help.  Indeed, this coming Thursday, Wayne and I will be guest lecturers for a Doctor of Ministry class in Kansas City, speaking to a group of pastors learning new skills to deal with this strange world we are now living in, where people have decreasing interest in “religion”, numbers have declined across the denominations, and what little “margin” is left in many congregations is not able to keep up with the demands of increasing bills and a tough economy.   First Baptist is part of the solution to the problem, as we have put together over the past three-plus years a new way of keeping a “large building and a smaller congregation” as a recipe for good things yet to come rather than “it’s only a matter of time”.

Of course, now that we have gotten some of the “big picture” issues resolved (missional purpose chief among them), what does it mean to be also “in love” with this place?  For congregations, “place” or “home” is more than just a collection of bricks, pipe, and stone.  We are more than the sum of property.  To understand “church”, you have to talk about people who believe in Jesus and find ways to encourage one another in the life of faith through the corporate/communal practices of a congregation.  Our love of place grows out of singing and praying together, serving one another and the neighbor in need alike, reading and discerning God’s word for us today, and especially for Baptists, knowing how to throw a good ole potluck.  We sometimes bog down in questions of brick and mortar, yet we are learning not to be defined by them. 

In the upcoming bylaws proposed for your consideration and vote, we are looking at strengthening and streamlining the number of boards.  Our present bylaws presume nearly two dozen people to serve in ongoing officer or board membership.  As we assessed the present day needs of First Baptist, we need leadership to manage financial and property issues, yet we also need a board to oversee what it means to be a member of First Baptist.  Discipleship takes on many forms:  worship, education, fellowship, care, and service.  This proposed board takes primarily the place of the Board of Deacons and the Board of Christian Education, being charged with the task of asking good questions of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus and how First Baptist can be a place that helps us individually and communally flourish.

As we look at realigning our boards, we aim to strengthen our ministry and mission, so that we can keep up with our primary reason for being, which is to keep the faith and encourage others, especially those who have not yet heard the good news of Jesus Christ.  We can only benefit from spending more time asking questions and exploring what it means to be better disciples, deepening our engagement with becoming a worshipping, learning, caring and serving community of believers.  Our past and our present depend on our willingness to keep into the future with this mission, lest the path and the household we have become outmoded, forgotten as time moves on and what we’ve been about for nearly 185 years becomes a fading footnote.

There are many roads we traverse in life.  Sometimes, the roads are straight and smooth. Other times, we find ourselves on the twists and turns of difficult terrain.  Faith can be just like either type of road, veering off when we least expect or taking us down paths that we don’t know if we can quite make it all the way across.  I give thanks constantly that when I’m out on such roads, I can see the well-worn footpaths of other saints (and even a few sinners) that have gone on ahead of me.

Together, we gather each week to worship and grow together in faith.  Together, we keep up with this place that is more than the sum of its utility bills and maintenance upkeep.  Together, we aim to be the group of disciples who tell and live out this story called “gospel”, so that others may seek and find.  Together, we search for the roads that lead us to our true home.

Amen.

Remembering Baptism

Despite assurances to the contrary, the water was COLD! 

My family started attending church services when I was in elementary school. I was baptized in 1984 on the same day my father was baptized.  At the appropriate time in the service, we stepped out of service and headed to change for the baptism. We didn’t have white robes in the little Kansas church that baptized me.  They said to bring along an extra set of clothes and change in the men’s bathroom in the fellowship hall.

We stood there, taking off our dress clothes.  I was a bit nervous, taking my clothing off fairly quickly.  My father said, “Slow down, son.  They don’t baptize you naked!”

Years later in seminary, I read that some early Christians practiced baptizing persons naked and greeting the person as they rose out of the pool with new clothes, symbolizing the new life found in Christ.  I thought to myself, “Well, I guess I was technically correct….”

Over our four centuries, while keeping to a theology of baptism by immersion, Baptists have varied the ways in which such a baptism could take place.  For most of our 400 years, the idea of an “indoor” baptism is newer than we think.  Early Baptists in Philadelphia baptized persons using rocks out in the river as a place to stand.  Locally, First Baptist used Barber’s Pond until they decided baptism, even in the dead of winter, ought to be indoors.  (Talk about your “penguin plunge”!)  Baptists in the South might have used the sandbar out in the river as a place to have the baptismal candidates gather with the pastor.  As for the Baptists of Moline, Kansas, they put me on a cinder block, used only for baptizing children, so they could be seen a bit better by the congregation.  They used a heating coil to warm the waters, but as I said earlier, that water was cold!

Baptism…. We opt to drown sinners good in the Baptist church.  Baptism by immersion distinguishes the Anabaptist tradition among the Protestant movements.  Baptists, Mennonites, and a few others insist that baptism involves a high water bill.  In fact, in Amsterdam last summer, the Baptist World Alliance met at a Mennonite church for our 400^th anniversary celebration of the Baptist tradition’s origins in 1609.  The street sign said, “Doopsgezinden”, an old term, originally meant to be derogatory toward Mennonites.  If you want to understand us, call us “baptism minded” folks.

Despite the historical differences in the theology and ritual around baptism, the Church universal agrees baptism is part of being a Christian.  To follow Christ is to be caught up in the divine story of God and humanity, the brokenness brought about by human sin, and the strong desire of God to bring about humanity’s redemption.  We Baptists celebrate baptism as a personal act, as the individual affirms his or her belief in Christ as Lord and Savior. 

In our more ecumenically minded present day, most Baptist churches are welcoming of persons who were baptized otherwise.  Nonetheless, when you ask a Baptist about core beliefs, we will affirm who we are:  baptism by immersion, gathering around the table for communion, sparingly in comparison to the more Eucharistic traditions of the Church, and of course, we know how to throw a good potluck.

Each week, we gather together as the baptized people, celebrating and looking for signs of new life.  Though this particular day we have no persons to baptize, we display one of our baptismal robes as a reminder of our core belief in baptism by immersion. We will be on a journey through the winter and spring, learning more about our Baptist beliefs and heritage.  Most importantly, the older elementary students will be exploring Baptist beliefs through their religious education.  It is time to share with our children this story of our belief, now as they begin to reach the age where such decisions can be explored and made.  Such sharing is part of our calling:  to speak of our lives shaped by Christ.

Remembering the day of my baptism, I recollect the congregation had a practice of singing a number of hymns right after the baptisms took place.  Practically, this extended time of singing gave the minister a chance to get likewise out of the wet clothing and change.  I remember back to that day, and I believe this to be a good practice.  What better for a church to do than to sing of the faith gathering us together?

<WE SING>

Tomorrow, our nation gives thanks for the witness of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther, Jr.  Of the civic holidays, the King Holiday is becoming a time to celebrate King’s life and work, and many persons use the day not for “play” but for engaging in community service opportunities.  We’ll gather Monday evening at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship for the interfaith community King Celebration.  (They’ll have a potluck, so don’t worry, you’ll feel right at home!) 

Given the connections of today’s focus on baptism and the civic holiday celebrating a 20^th-century Baptist, I thought it appropriate to look for any stories related to King’s own baptism.  From Taylor Branch’s massive three volume biography of King’s life, I found a brief mention of King’s baptism, recalling:

In 1934, when a guest minister at Ebenezer [Baptist Church in Atlanta, GA] made a strong pitch for the salvation of young souls, [King] watched his [older] sister [Christine] rise to make the first profession of faith.  Impulsively, as he later confessed, “I decided that I would not let her get ahead of me, so I was the next.”  He wryly observed that he had no idea of what was going on during his subsequent baptism.  He knew the feeling of being special, and the intense pressure of churchly expectation, long before he had the slightest grasp of religion.  (Parting the Waters, America in the King Years, 1954-1963, p. 48).

The story chastens those looking for a bright beginning to King’s storied career and faith journey. King did not blossom without the upbringing in the context of a church community that embraced and helped him claim a sense of identity and voice.  That King became a national figure for Civil Rights and an enduring symbol for America at its best is well worth celebrating, but we cannot forget the formative influence of those waiting for him as he rose up in church and professed his belief or helped him towel off and change into fresh clothes when the day of his baptism occurred.  As King began his religious life a bit unsure and uncertain of what he was promising in his confession and baptism, it was the gathered people called “church” that helped him along his journey.

Along the way, our Baptist tradition has emphasized baptism as an individual and personal decision.  We have given less reflection to the communal implications.  We come to Christ each of our own choosing, however, it is the presence of other believers who help us grow in the faith.  The old proverb claims it takes a village to raise a child. In the Christian life, it takes a church to shape a believer.

After the waters of baptism, there is much work to do in shaping persons to grow in Christ. You see this in other traditions when catechism is offered.  Baptists likewise need a robust sense of religious education, and we are reclaiming this as we adjust our religious education to match our children as they are growing into middle school age.  We have to work hard to retain them as they become youth and demonstrate to them that the life of faith will help them as they grow up to be the next generation.  Who knows?  Perhaps we have a future King in our midst. 

In turn, the role of religious education for adults becomes important.  I am grateful we have restarted adult education at First Baptist, as we need to keep providing opportunities for believers to wrestle with the intersections of life and faith.  This month, the adult forum reflects on Jewish/Christian relations with Rabbi Cohen.  Beginning next month, we explore what it means to be a Baptist, and it ought to be a lively dialogue about our faith and the fruitfulness of exploring our heritage.  You’ll find it lively as the Baptist way is one of diversity.  In case you haven’t heard, Baptists don’t all think all alike!  Yet, we are all one in Christ.

The journey of faith begins with that decision which leads you to the pool of water.  What happens next is likewise up to you.  In Baptist history, much has been made what is meant by the Greek word for baptism, yet I am a bit curious by that word right beside it.  In the gospel of Luke, John preaches a baptism of metanoia, the Greek word typically translates as “repentance”.  More accurately, the word “literally means changing one’s mind or outlook” (Luke Timothy Johnson, The Gospel of Luke, Sacra Pagina, p. 64).  The change is not meant to be one-time.  Our baptism inaugurates an ongoing process of growth, adjustment and challenge.  We do not just “get saved”, as some Baptists traditionally say.  We are on a journey that begins with our yes and continues each time we keep saying “yes” to life in Christ.