January 13, 2008

Written Into the Text

Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17

 

Reverend Richard E. Allen, Jr.

 

---

 

On the morning after Barak Obama’s win in the Iowa Democratic caucuses, David Brooks opined in his NY Times column, “Whatever their political affiliations, Americans are going to feel good about the Obama victory, which is a story of youth, possibility and unity through diversity – the primordial themes of the American experience.” (“The Two Earthquakes,” NY Times, January 4, 2008.)  It was more than that, of course.  With clear evidence that a presidential bid by an African-American can no longer be written off as an impossible dream, many Americans of both parties celebrated a progressive shift in our national ethos.

 

As I ponder the Iowa results and savor the joy of what feels like the dawning of a new day, I keep returning to the truth that Obama’s message of change includes a change in racial attitudes for the better. Perhaps we as a nation are at least approaching the time, envisioned by Martin Luther King in Washington years ago, when his children would be judged “not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” If Iowa indicates that such a change is dawning, if ever so slowly, then the rays of light come not just from Obama’s lamp, but also from the light carried by his predecessors.  These include Dr. King, of course, as well as those who walked beside and before him:  Ralph Abernathy, Andrew Young, W. E. B. DuBois, Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth – and many, many, more.  The list of names inscribed in the book of justice and equality is a long list.  It includes the names of teachers and preachers like Gandhi, and Abraham Heschel, Richard and Reinhold Niebuhr, like Bill Stringfellow and Bill Coffin. It’s a list of both famous and forgotten names.  And this list indicates to me that Obama’s moment on the podium in Iowa belonged not to him alone, but it also belonged to the great line in which he stands.  That’s true of all politicians, all leaders.

 

The same can be said of us in the church, of course.  We are who we are because of the decisions that we make. Yes. And we are who we are because of the actions that we take.  Certainly.  And, we are who we are because of the commitments that we honor.  But we are who we are, also, because of the sacrifices made on our behalf.  Which is to say that we are who we are because we stand with others who have gone before us, too.  Just as every family tree helps illuminate the present by understanding the past, so we in the church never stand alone, but always in a grand succession of the faith.  We, too, understand ourselves most clearly as we celebrate our heritage.

 

So in the Hebrew Bible lesson given us today, Isaiah reminds his people that they stand in a long tradition of faithfulness.  In fact, the Jewish relationship to God is not just a tradition; it is a covenant.  They are a chosen people, just as Abraham was chosen to inherit the land, just a Moses was chosen to lead the Hebrews to justice and freedom, just as David was chosen as hero in battle and king of the nation, just as the prophets themselves were chosen, beginning with Elijah and including Isaiah himself.  Isaiah calls the people to remember the purpose of their covenant relationship:  “I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”  (Isaiah 42:6c-7)

 

The early church, knowing the risen Christ in their midst, heard Isaiah foretelling the ministry of Jesus.  They saw the ministry of Jesus as continuing that same covenant line, with John the Baptist not only looking Elijah-like but also connecting Jesus, and therefore the church, to the covenant that has been carried through the ages from our spiritual ancestors, Abraham, David, Isaiah, and others.  But the early church also knew that they stood with Jesus in the covenant, because they had stood with him in baptism.

 

Indeed, baptism remains for the church today what it was for the church of that day:  the connection between us and Christ, and therefore the connection between us as the long line of covenant ministry in which we stand.  We are not alone.  We are part of a grand parade.  Or, Kari Jo Verhulst says, we become characters cast into the drama of God in the world.  “In baptism, Christians become one with Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection,” she says.  “We get written into the text, becoming the covenant Isaiah writes of, ‘given...to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon....’” (“Becoming the Covenant,” Sojourners online, http://www.sojo.net/, from 2002.)

 

Friends, God’s story is not complete. Because there is part of the story that belongs to us, and, as Verhulst says, “In baptism.... We get written into the text.”

 

In baptism, we are written into the text of God’s grace.  We are blessed to hear the words “You are my child, and I love you.”  When you remember your baptism, remember, above all else, that God’s acceptance is sure, and cannot be undone.  You and I are God’s children: fully, freely, and forever.

 

In baptism, we are written into the text of God’s hope.  We are called to share, as Isaiah reminds us, a ministry of light to all peoples in darkness.  When you remember your baptism this day, recall that God’s light is meant to be shared, and that you have become an ambassador of God’s hope in a frustrated world.

 

In baptism, we are written into the text of God’s righteousness.  We are called to become a holy people, living not for ourselves and our own desires and appetites, but living as disciples, disciplined by God’s goodness for holiness. Or, as Wesley said it to the first Methodist people:  we are going on to perfection both in love and in holiness. When you remember your baptism today, know that you have a sacred trust to live not to yourself alone, but rather to grow into the image of Christ within you.

 

In baptism, we are written into the text of God’s justice.  We are called, with Jesus, with Isaiah and Amos, with William Wilburforce and Sojourner Truth, to strike a blow for justice on behalf of the powerless.  And we are called, with Gandhi, with Martin Luther King and with so many others, to speak of work for equality on behalf of the voiceless.  When you remember your baptism today, remember that your arms and your voice have been claimed by God as truly as your head and your heart.

 

In baptism, we are written into the text of God’s love.  We are called to love God, and self, and neighbor fully and freely.  When you remember your baptism today, know that though everything else fail, God’s love for you and for this world never fails.  Trust that promise.  Live into that vision.

 

You and I are not alone.  We are a covenant people. We stand with a great host of saints who have gone before us, and with a great line of those who come after us.   That being so, remember your baptism, and be thankful.

 

Amen.