Sermon

Dec. 18, 2005

A Sermon Preached at St. Stephen’s on Dec. 18, 2005, by the Rev. Cork Tarplee

Jim Taylor tells the story of a young hitchhiker he picked up on a bitterly freezing night in Canada . The road was littered with vehicles disabled in the cold and ice, and this was a young woman stranded in the mess, so even though he didn’t make a practice of it Taylor agreed to give her a ride. Turns out the young woman was pregnant. She knew the father but didn’t want to spend her life with him, so was resolved to have the child on her own. The girl talked about having a strained relationship with her mother and her grief at the loss of her brother in a senseless accident. She insisted that her child would have a different life, wouldn’t suffer the same estrangement, wouldn’t grow up disadvantaged. She was going back to finish high school so she could get a decent job. As tempting as it is to seek for parallels with another young mother some two thousand years ago, Taylor draws just one: here was a young woman whose pregnancy had changed her perspective. Suddenly the world was for her “a place where injustice needed to be fought, where relationships mattered, where love became the primary motivation.”

Children will do that for you. This morning as we prepare to baptize one baby and we prepare to commemorate the birth of another, it might be good to contemplate the power of children—and the uncanny wisdom of God who decided to enter the world as a human child. While we think of children as weak, they wield tremendous power. I noticed it again the other day watching a father and his four year old in a restaurant. The little girl was not being bad, she was just being four, climbing all over the booth, making faces at the other customers and playing with her milk. The father was gentle with her but obviously exasperated. Judy and I had the same thought when we saw them: “it’s a good thing kids are so cute…otherwise they wouldn’t survive.” Kids have the extraordinary power to make better people out of us. We sense that they need love and protection and we tend to open our hearts. I’ve seen some pretty rough and rude characters check their language and forsake crude actions because a kid has been around.

I think it is no wonder that Mary’s recollection of the annunciation was that the child she was carrying would be different. “He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High,” is how Luke records it. There is nothing quite like new life coming into the world to make us think about how different this world might be.

It is also no wonder that the baptism of a new baby brings out our best intentions. We use the occasion of each baptism to renew our own sense of what is important in life. We back up our claim to believe in the God of love with promises to ACT like we believe in the God of love. We won’t be loners in life, we promise; we’ll be a part of a community of faith. We promise to keep trying to be better and to start over when we’re not. We promise to act with compassion. We promise that we will respect the dignity of each person. Like that young woman on the Canadian roadway, the life of the youngster we baptize today changes our perspective. We are determined to make this world a better place and to make ourselves better people.

I don’t know many things that are as capable of changing our lives as the presence of a child. The savior of the world could enter the world in no more impressive way than as a helpless baby.

I recently heard of a hungry child who prayed at Christmas for food and toys. This was a case of dire poverty, so no such gifts materialized. She told an adult neighbor what she had prayed for and the adult used the occasion to talk some sense into her. “What did you think would happen?” said the neighbor, “Do you still believe in a God who answers prayers?” “Oh,” said the child, “I’m sure God heard my prayer. God probably told someone to bring me a Christmas present, but whoever it was just forgot.” There’s something powerfully right in that child’s reply. We all know that God does provide enough food to go around. The problem is human greed and indifference, not God. And so we have this phrase, “Out of the mouths of babes…”

May we have the grace to listen to our children, to listen to the messages of love and tenderness they implant within us. May we have the grace to pay attention to the way they change our perspective on life. For God chose to change the world, not with an army or with great teachers, but with these words to a frightened peasant girl, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.”

AMEN