October 11 2009

"all Things possible"

Job 23:1-9, 16-17; Ps. 22:1-15; Heb. 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31

Dr. George R. Sinclair, Jr.
Pastor

October 11, 2009

This is a very happy day for my family. Callum is a fifth generation Presbyterian, actually, fifth in a long line of Presbyterians. Not only was Callum’s great-great-grandfather Presbyterian, but most all of his Sinclair ancestors were for the past five hundred years. There may have been a renegade or two, maybe a Methodist or who knows even a Baptist, but for the most part, if not exclusively, our Presbyterian roots trace to Scotland. So, I’m very proud today.

It’s not everyday that you get to baptize your grandson. I don’t know what to expect. We had hoped to do this when Callum was much younger. For all I know, he may walk in the church or when I walk him around he may jump out of my arms. He’s a wiggly little fellow and curious. He never stops moving or looking. And I’m sure you’ll agree, he’s the most beautiful baby in the known universe or so his grandmother believes and of course I agree.

We’re handing on to Callum today something very precious, precious, not in the sense of sweet, but precious in the sense rare. The Kingdom of God is the pearl of great price, the treasure for which one will sell all he has. How do you measure the kingdom of God? What value do you assign it?

I’ve been thinking about getting one of those flat screen TV’s, you know the kind with the really clear, really bright picture, High Definition—fully digital—one of those TVs where you can see individual blades of grass. They’re kind of pricy. They sell them at Best Buy, Sam’s Club. You can get them many places. I read the Sunday flyers. Oh, it would look nice in my living room. Put in a movie; watch it on the BIG SCREEN, Surround Sound, a pearl of great price: My BIG SCREEN TV.

Would a BIG SCREEN make me a better husband? I suppose I could make a case for that. “Paula, if I get this TV I promise I’ll be a better listener.” Would a BIG SCREEN make me a better father? “Ya’ll come over and we’ll watch TV—family time.” Would a BIG SCREEN make me a better pastor? “You know, just the other night, I was watching my BIG SCREEN and I saw this special on John Knox and the 16^th century reform.”

We can convince ourselves that most anything has value, stuff that will make us better persons. Likewise, we can convince ourselves that we have a bottomless well of need. “I really need that BIG SCREEN. My old TV is worn out. It could go any minute. What if it goes out just before that John Knox special?” I have a confession to make: I bought one yesterday.

Callum is receiving something precious today, a priceless gift without measure. He is welcomed as a child of God. He is redeemed. We hope this priceless treasure will summon in Callum the very best he has to offer the world.

Meredith and Jesse probably know this—the motto on the Sinclair coat of arms is Commit thy work to God. We hope Callum does that. We hope he commits his work to God. Whenever we baptize we hope our children commit their work to God, that they make glorifying God their chief end.

In baptism, we are given a precious gift: God claims us as his own. We are welcomed by God. God gives us identity. The creeds and confessions call baptism a sign. Baptism is an outward sign of an inward grace. In baptism, God names us his own, his beloved.

I’ve worn this wedding band for 36 years. It’s all scratched up now. It’s endured years of yard work. It’s spent hours in a workshop with saw dust, furniture stain and lacquer. It’s been in the ocean. Wherever I’ve gone, this ring has gone with me. Ten years ago, I had to have it stretched because I got bigger. This ring does not equal my marriage, but it is a sign of my marriage.

Baptism, likewise, is a sign that children belong to God. Baptism is a sign that Callum has been called from eternity by Eternity. He has been named God’s son, God’s beloved. Baptism signifies that Callum has been redeemed by Jesus Christ. Christ died for the forgiveness of sin. Christ rose to rescue us from the power of evil. But know this: from the moment Callum is baptized, his identity will be under assault.

Right now, Jesse and Meredith have more influence over Callum than they’ll ever have. But there will come a day when that influence will dissipate. Likewise, a day will come when the promises affirmed in baptism will be assaulted. I know that’s a violent word, but I think it’s the right one. The identity given in baptism is assaulted. Those assaults do not always appear violent. More times than not they are subtle. At times they may even appear as good. All the same, the principalities and powers are persistent. They work like rust. They corrode souls slowly, slowly but surely.

Truth is always tested. A day will come when Callum will ask, “Is my baptism true? Am I a child of God? Have I been redeemed by Jesus Christ? Am I called to commit my work to God?” That assault will come in many forms. It may be subtle. But it will come.

I know this assault to be real because I’ve lived it and I’ve seen it. If you want statistics, they’re available. Half of the children baptized in the Presbyterian Church in the last 40 years are no longer affiliated with the church, not just the Presbyterian Church but any Christian church. The half I’m talking about no longer attends worship, they do not give, they do not serve the church in anyway, they’re not just marginally uninvolved with the church—they have disappeared. They have joined the ranks of the unchurched. Baptismal identity has been drained, flushed from their systems. The half I’m talking about are thoroughly secular. And by that I don’t mean they are anti-religious or non-believers or people of bad faith or no faith. Most understand themselves to be “spiritual,” but they are not “religious.” That is, they have little use for the institutional church. They are “spiritual but not religious,” which is, I think, somewhat like telling your spouse that you still love them but don’t wish to live with them. Try that on for size and see how it works: “Honey, I love you but I think we should live apart.” Or, “Honey, I love you, but you’re going to have to find somebody else to pay the bills.” Or, “Honey, I love you, but I really need my space and I want to do my own thing.”

Callum is receiving a precious gift today, but from the moment he receives it, it will be under assault. That’s true for all the baptized. Parents should not assume the world is morally neutral. It is not. Likewise, faith is anything but natural. It is formed. It must be maintained, nurtured, developed. That said, faith finally is not a result of effort. Children don’t get faith the way they get blue eyes or their grandmother’s silver or even a 500 year old tradition. Faith is a gift finally that parents cannot create or give to their children. Creating faith is God’s work.

“Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

“Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, then come, follow me.’”

Mark tells us that the man who asked this question “had many possessions” and that when he heard Jesus’ answer he went away grieving.

When I told Paula I was preaching on this text today, she said as only she can, “Do you have to do that? Why can’t you find another text? That one’s so heavy, so serious. Can’t you save it for stewardship? Why do you have to talk about money when Callum is baptized?” I told her not to worry, I’d find a way to work it in and it wouldn’t be all heavy and somber and disturb everybody.

You see, I’m taking the advice of one scholar who said this about this passage: “The sensitive preacher,” (that would be me!) “might want to explain to the congregation that giving all away at once might not be good stewardship.” Duh! “Planned giving and thoughtful charity,” this scholar continued, “can be done over time. . . Maybe folks should not [emphasis the author’s] give away all they have at once, but life in the kingdom is about caring and sharing.”

For sensitive souls, (that would be us), the moral is one you’ve heard a thousand times, “Don’t let your possession possess you. Share and give generously. Now let’s go eat.”

What does that have to do with baptism? “Yes, Meredith and Jesse should teach Callum to be sharing and caring.” Those are good values. But you don’t really need the church or Jesus to give Callum those values. Of course, I hope Callum has those values. I hope he grows up to be a sharing and caring human being. But there’s more to the Good News than that.

Take another look at the story. Yes, the man was rich. And yes, riches have a particular way of interfering with faith. Riches can blind us to our need for God. Riches can make us think we’re self-sufficient, that we don’t really need God. All of that is true enough, but today I want to focus on one line in this story, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

“For mortals it is impossible.” The “it” Jesus is talking about is entering the kingdom of heaven. For humans, “it” is impossible. We need to hear that—it is impossible for us to enter the kingdom of heaven. By kingdom of heaven, Jesus does not mean life after death. He means that but more. Kingdom of heaven is as much about the here and now as the hereafter. Kingdom of heaven has to do with our allegiance, vision, passion, loyalty, commitment. Kingdom of heaven is our ultimate interest. Kingdom of heaven is about where we bow down and worship. It is about who or what we serve, what we ultimately believe to be real, true, hopeful, eternal.

“For mortals it is impossible.” We can’t get to the kingdom on our own. Getting into the Kingdom is not a human work. It is not a matter of energy, effort, or determination. No, that does not mean we check out of the church or wait for faith to fall out of the sky, but it is to say that faith is a gift, a true inheritance. No one earns an inheritance. Inheritance is received.

“For God all things are possible.”

Faith like that does not live at the margins, but in the middle, in real time, in every day time, ordinary time. Such faith is not wishful thinking. Such faith is not what we turn to when everything else fails. Faith is not a substitute for what we don’t know—a god who fills in the gaps of our knowledge or resources or powers; a super-hero who fills voids exhausted by human inventiveness, technical mastery, or finely honed wisdom. That god may be useful, but is hardly the God who makes all things possible.

The God who makes all things possible does not take the bumps out of life’s highway. He does not interfere with gravity or human stupidity. The God who makes all things possible is not Santa Claus who promises your best life now. Rather, the God who makes all things possible never gives up even when we’ve given up. The God who makes all things possible doesn’t promise a Disney ending to every tragedy, but does give peace beyond understanding. The God who makes all things possible never stops making us his own. Baptism is a sign of that gift. The gift received is faith expressed. The Gift Giver is the God who makes all things possible. Thanks be to God for the impossible gift of faith. Amen.