The Gift of the Sacraments: Baptism

A few weeks ago, I mentioned in worship the time in May that I spent at Ignatius House in Atlanta. I talked about the grounded place by the waterfall that I take myself to when I feel overwhelmed, or uncertain about where God might be. I close my eyes, and I can hear the bubble of the water, the chirping birds, and the wind in the trees.

The other body of water that I experienced on my retreat was the Chattahoochee River. It isn't a particularly beautiful body of water. Here’s a photo for reference.

I sat at the edge of the river many times during my retreat. During a guided walk that I took with the rest of the participants, we were invited to take as much time as we needed at each spot, including the river bank. I spent the longest moment there listening to the river rush along. I remembered that ordinary water, browned by dirt, leaves, and possibly a little pollution, was a powerful force that shaped this riverbank for hundreds of years. Many humans had stood in the spot that I did, and many more would after me. At that moment, I felt compelled to let a few things go that had been weighing on me. So, I took a piece of a tree branch and I broke it up and tossed the branch into the river, praying for God's release over the situation weighing heavily on me.

As the river powerfully rushed those pieces of branch away, I felt peace. Though the water, and the pieces of wood I tossed into the water, were very ordinary, they represented the power of God’s work in my life to let go, and be cleansed from the pain and hurt those situations had caused me.

Just as I return to the waterfall in my mind, I frequently remind myself of that release on the river. Those situations haven’t gone away. They constantly crop up, frustrating me and causing me to become unmoored from my identity in Christ. I close my eyes and remember in my body the act of throwing away the situation, and not letting it hold me any longer. I have been claimed, beloved. I belong to Christ Jesus.

I am reminded that just as the river has shaped the landscape in Georgia for thousands of years, so too I am shaped by the ordinary water of my baptism each day of my life.

This Sunday in worship, we will remind ourselves of the power of Baptism as we conclude our two-week sermon series on the sacraments. Though water is ordinary, fundamental to life, we will remember that it has the power to shape us in our identity and call throughout our lives. We’ll look at the beginning of Jesus’s ministry on the riverbank in Matthew 3, and Jesus’s commission at the end of his ministry in Matthew 28 as we bookend our theological understanding of Baptism in the United Methodist Church.

If you have been baptized, know that God desires to use that act of grace (even before we understand it!) to transform you from the inside out. If you have not been baptized, know that Christ’s invitation is for all people to experience the transformation of the water. We’d love to walk with you as you consider making that decision for yourself or your child.

Remembering 9/11

This past week our weekly study programs, Journey Wednesday Nights and Oasis Women's Ministry, began. With this, I began teaching my class on Generational IQ. I am so excited to continue to journey through this material and to learn together how best to relate to one another across generational differences. I believe this work is vital as we continue to live in our modern context. Part of our introductory session spent much time on this truth: though we all may have lived through certain events, depending on when you were born, what else you have experienced, and your social location, those events are felt and experienced differently. I asked the group, “What world event happened in your life before the age of 18 that was most impactful to you, and shaped your view of the world?”

For most millennials, one prominent answer is the events of September 11th, 2001. I know that is certainly one of my answers. I also know, from conversations with my peers just younger and just older than me, I am one of the youngest individuals that remember a time before 9/11 and a time after. I remember the day with eerie clarity, despite my young age. Certainly, though 9/11 shaped my young image of the world, I know that on this, the eve of the 20th anniversary, my lens is not nearly as impacted as a child who lost a parent, a first-responder who lived through the suffering and pain, who now is very ill, or those service members who were sent to defend America across the sea in the days following. Those of you who were older certainly remember it with more painful clarity than I would. Yet, no matter who we are, 9/11 has had an impact on all of us and changed our world. As we remember this weekend, I encourage you to look out for the devotional and moment of prayer that we can share, near and far, as a congregation tomorrow. On this 20th anniversary, we remember and pray for all those who have lost loved ones in 9/11 and the conflicts that followed.

As I pondered this difference in “lens” around historical events in our world, I remembered a quote that I’ve read over and over during the pandemic,

“I heard that we are in the same boat. But it’s not like that. We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat.”

Though the author is unknown, this quote caught fire across social media over the past eighteen months. The storm is certainly the same: there are facts about its reality, and there are truths about its severity. The facts of history cannot be denied. Yet, again, depending on who and where you are, the storm’s severity is different. I have not lost a job; I did not contract COVID-19; I only recently lost a friend to COVID-19. Our church has weathered this storm well. These are all gifts, as I know this is not true for most.

This weekend, we will explore Mark 4, the story of Jesus asleep on the boat in the storm. The story is frankly and deeply human. The disciples, though Jesus is in the boat, panic at the storm’s size and severity. They wonder if they will be torn apart, and see the storm as large, looming, and terrifying. Yet, Jesus is asleep. When Jesus awakes, he asks them where their faith is. It sounds harsh, but I always hear Jesus’s mercy. “Where is your faith? I am right here.”

Our goal in this series is to help us face the storms of our lives with the clarity that Jesus has in this story. Because what is true of the disciples is also true of us: Jesus is in the boat with us. Though our circumstances may be different, Jesus has not left one of us alone. And Jesus has the power to calm the chaos in our hearts and world. The storm does not have the final word. And, if we believe that our faith unites us, then we can all share this boat of our faith, walking with compassion and empathy with our brothers and sisters through the storms of our lives.

As we remember 9/11 this weekend, and as we consider the continuing storms of this life, I invite you to pray along with me for the clarity and grace that Jesus has: the storm doesn’t have the final word, and we are not alone.