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Sermon Jan. 8, 2006 |
A Sermon Preached at
See if this ditty by Gloria Pitzer doesn’t
ring true:
Procrastination
is my sin,
It
brings me pain and sorrow.
I
know that I should stop it.
In
fact I will—tomorrow.
In
this season of resolutions and new beginnings, most of us know the frustration
of trying to change our lives. For those
of us still struggling with being thinner or richer or kinder or more hopeful,
there is good news in the season of Epiphany.
This period between Christmas and Lent is reserved in the Church
calendar for celebrating the ways God appears and is revealed in our lives. On the first Sunday in the Epiphany season we
always read about the baptism of Jesus. In today’s readings we remember especially
the connection between Jesus’ baptism and his ministry. Our second reading reminds us that Jesus
“went about doing good and healing,” after his baptism. The voice from heaven
at Jesus’ baptism that says, “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well
pleased” is confirmed by what Jesus says and does for the rest of his
life. In other words, God’s presence in
the world is revealed most clearly in human action. Wherever love and charity prevail, there God
is present.
In
case you are wondering, I do mean that this pattern which is so clear in Jesus’
baptism and ministry is also true for our own baptism and ministry. In our baptism, God accepts us and affirms us
as beloved and sends us to go about doing good and
healing. And wherever we succeed in love
and charity, God is present in this world.
Given
the frustration most of us feel when we attempt to change our lives, this news
about God’s being present in the world through our love and charity is both
good news and bad news. It is good news
because it affirms our potential to accomplish wonderful things. It is bad news because we know that we often
don’t succeed in even our simplest good intentions.
There
is an irony in Jesus’ baptism that I think can help with our frustration as we
try to become people who do a little good in the world. The irony is this: the
Raymond
Hunthausen tells a fable which illustrates just how
great a difference our weak and muddy light can make. The story involves a conversation between two
little birds. One says to the other,
“Tell me the weight of a snowflake.” The
other, a dove, replies, “The weight of a snowflake is nothing more than
nothing.” “In that case I must tell you a marvelous story,” said the first bird
to the dove. “I sat on the branch of a tree, close to the trunk, when it began
to snow—not heavily, not in a giant blizzard—no, just like in a dream without
any violence. Since I didn’t have
anything better to do, I counted the snowflakes settling on the twigs and
needles of my branch. Their number was
exactly 3,741,952. Then the next
snowflake dropped on the branch—‘nothing more than nothing,’ as you say—and the
branch broke off.” Hunthausen
adds: “The dove, since Noah’s time, an authority on such matters, thought about
the story for awhile, and finally said to herself: “Perhaps there is only one
person’s voice lacking for peace to come about in this world.”
Muddy
and unclear as our light might be, God’s promise is that what we have to offer
is enough. Your voice or mine might be
all that is lacking for God’s reign of peace and justice to take tangible
form. That is one bit of good news, and
I will tell you another. Just as we can
make a difference, as murky as we are, so too our baptism, as insignificant as
it may seem, also makes a difference.
Consciously knowing that we are a part of the body of Christ—though it
is in itself as light as a snowflake—just knowing that can make a difference in
our lives. Martin Luther, who was known
to be an irascible and cantankerous man, was said to stop himself when he started
to vent his frustration. He would touch
his forehead and say, “I am baptized,” and the tangle of self-doubt and
recrimination would fade away. I doubt
if many of us are as aware as Luther of the difference our baptism has made in
our lives. But I do believe that like
the snowflake that felled a branch, being part of Christ’s body makes a
powerful difference in who we are and what we do.
I’m not sure that makes much of a difference in our attempts to get thinner or richer, but I am positive that it makes us all better people. It also makes this world a better place—still murky like the muddy waters of the River Jordan—but a place in which the glory of God still shines. AMEN