United by the Spirit (Acts 2)

Good morning.  I know it’s hard to listen to a sermon in two languages, and we have a lot going on today, so we’ll keep this sermon short.  However, we do this because it is a wonderful way to celebrate our common ministry. Bixby Knolls Christian Church is one of the most diverse small congregations in the country, and the only Disciples congregation where Khmer is spoken.  We are a Pentecost church!

I start today with an example from Buddhism:  Buddhists are guided by what are called the Three Jewels.  The Three Jewels are the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.

Thich Nhat Hanh explains it this way:  The Buddha is “the teacher who shows us the way in life – it can be Jesus, Muhammad, or whoever you consider to be your guiding light.”

The Dharma is “the teachings and the way to understanding and love.”  For Christians like us, that is primarily found in scripture.  In fact, literally translated, dharma and torah both mean “teaching” or “law.”

The Sangha is “our spiritual community of friends who support us on our path.”  For Christians, this would be the church.

The first verse of today’s scripture says: “when the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.”  They were together, with their community of support; their Sangha.

If we had read all the way to the end of Acts chapter 2, we’d find this verse:  “Day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being made whole.”  This was a community, a Sangha, that people wanted to be part of.

We are part of a community of faith known as Bixby Knolls Christian Church.  Bixby Knolls Christian Church is part of a larger body called the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).  And the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) is part of an even larger body which is the church that all Christians are a part of, spanning time and space.

The Disciples of Christ has a list of twelve “principles of identity.”  Three of those principles of identity have to do with the church, and how different parts of the church relate to one another.

One of these principles states: “We structure our community around the biblical idea of covenant, emphasizing not obedience to human authority but accountability to one another because of our shared obedience to Christ.”

Unlike many other denominations, Disciples congregations are self-governing.  And yet, we voluntarily join together with other Disciples congregations into regions and a general church. 

The basis for this “joining-together” is covenant. 

A covenant is like a contract.  However, a contract is enforced by law, but a covenant is enforced by love.

There is no law that keeps us together; and yet, it is our common commitment and our love for Christ and one another that unites us.

Because of our commitment to covenant, we are able to do things (like own a summer camp) that a single congregation like ours could not do on its own.

Also, we present a united witness to the world around us.

A second Principle of Identity says this:  “we give thanks that each congregation is truly the church, affirming that God’s church and God’s mission stretch from our doorsteps to the ends of the earth.”

The church exists wherever followers of Jesus are gathered together.  The congregation is the church.  The region is the church.  The gathering of youth at Loch Leven is the church.  We are the church.

In the Disciples of Christ, the different manifestations of the church – the congregation, the region, and the general church – are all held together by covenant.

On the day of Pentecost, the gift of the Holy Spirit came upon all the Disciples. At baptism, we acknowledge the Spirit’s presence in each and every Christian, and the gifts of leadership each Christian has.

Our third Principle of Identity for today states:  “We affirm the priesthood of all believers, rejoicing in the gifts of the Holy Spirit – which include the gift of leadership – that God has given for the common good.”

The Spirit gives gifts to all. We recognize this in the way we celebrate communion.  Unlike other parts of the body of Christ, we Disciples have lay elders, and not the ordained pastor, lead the prayers at the Lord’s Table.

On the day of Pentecost, ALL of Jesus’s followers were “filled with the Holy Spirit.”  The Spirit gave EACH of them gifts that enabled them to share the gospel.

Each of us is also gifted by the Holy Spirit.  Through our actions, our words, and our lives, each of us demonstrates the love of God, and is able to invite and welcome others at the Lord’s Table.

I end by sharing with you, once again, our identity statement:  “We are Disciples of Christ, a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.  As part of the body of Christ, we welcome ALL to the Lord’s Table, as God has welcomed us.”

That They May Be One (John 17)

Last week I started the sermon by sharing a saying that was popular among early Disciples:  “No creed but Christ; no book but the Bible.” 

Here’s another one:  “Unity is our polar star.”

One of the reasons that early Disciples leaders like Alexander Campbell and Barton Warren Stone left their own denominations and started a new movement on the American frontier was their frustration with how divided Christians were.  The Presbyterians wouldn’t welcome the Methodists, the Methodists wouldn’t welcome the Baptists, and the same was true for the Lutherans and the Episcopalians and so on.  And of course none of them would welcome the Catholics.  Each denomination believed that they – and they alone – were right.

Michael Kinnamon is a contemporary Disciples scholar and theologian, and a leader in the movement for Christian unity.  He just recently served as the General Secretary of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, and has also been active with the World Council of Churches.

Let me share with you something Michael Kinnamon wrote.  He wrote:  

[Calls to Christian Unity] ring throughout Disciples history. In the early nineteenth century, Barton Stone spoke of Christian unity as our polar star. “If we oppose the union of believers,” wrote Stone, “we oppose directly the will of God, the prayer of Jesus, the spirit of piety, and the salvation of the world.” The seminal document of the Disciples movement, Thomas Campbell’s Declaration and Address, calls division among Christ’s followers “anti-Christian,” “anti-scriptural,” and “anti-natural.”

Peter Ainslie, a leading Disciples pastor in the early years of the twentieth century, declared that Disciples constitute “the first definitely organized movement in the history of the church for the healing of its schisms.”

“Take Christian unity out of the message of the Disciples,” said Ainslie, “and their existence only adds to the enormity of the sin of division by making another division.”

When Disciples gathered in 1909 to celebrate the centennial of the Declaration and Address, they listed “the unity … which Christ prayed might continue to exist among all those who believe on Him” as the number one principle for which we stand.

So it should be no surprise that one of our modern principles of identity reads:

We hear a special calling to make visible the unity of all Christians, proclaiming that in our diversity we belong to one another because we commonly belong to Christ.

One way Disciples make visible the unity of all Christians is by welcoming all to the Lord’s Table.  As I’ve mentioned before, 200 years ago, if you weren’t a member of a particular denomination, then you probably wouldn’t be welcome to participate in communion in that particular denomination’s worship service.  Alexander Campbell and other early Disciples leaders came mostly from Presbyterian churches, but the sharp denominational divides existed in just about all churches of the time. 

Some early Disciples leaders voluntarily and intentionally called for the death of their own congregations and associations, so that they could “sink into union with the body of Christ at large.”  In other words, they would no longer be Presbyterian churches, but Christian churches.  One of the most important documents in the early days of our movement was, in fact, titled: “The Last Will and Testament of the Springfield Presbytery.”

They wanted to start a movement that was not bound to any denomination.  They wanted to form a non-denominational movement.  For this reason, they did not consider the movement they started to be a denomination.  Instead, they said it was a fellowship of Christians and congregations worshiping not in the style of any particular denomination, but in the style of the earliest Christians from the first century, before the body of Christ was divided.

Even as late as the mid-20^th century, you’d hear Disciples insist that we weren’t a denomination, even though, for all practical purposes, we had been acting like a denomination for many decades. 

Then, in 1968, we re-organized.  This was an important moment in Disciples history, a moment which we refer to as the Restructure of the church.  [Gee, I should be making you all take notes on this!]  Restructure was a moment in our history when we finally admitted that, okay, perhaps we are a denomination, and maybe we should start acting like one … maybe we should strengthen the ties of the covenant that bind us together as a body … but do so in a way that continues to emphasize the unity of all Christians.

There are a number of churches today that claim they are “non-denominational…”  That was us.  We just did it about 200 years before it became trendy, and have matured since then!

By the way, if you were paying attention, you may have noticed that our scripture for this morning included Jesus’s prayer for unity among his followers.  Actually, what we heard was just an excerpt from that prayer, since it is in fact the longest recorded prayer of Jesus in scripture. 

And in that prayer, Jesus prays that his followers may be one.  That they may be united. This is what Jesus prays for in his longest recorded prayer.

We have two principles of identity to cover today, so let’s move on to the next one. 

We witness to the Gospel of God’s saving love for the world in Jesus Christ, while continuing to struggle with how God’s love may be known to others in different ways.

I like that word struggle.  If I’m hiking to the top of a tall mountain, make no mistake: that hike is a struggle.  When it comes to hiking up that mountain, the opposite of a struggle isn’t an easy walk; the opposite of a struggle is to give up.  But to struggle is to keep pressing onward.  To struggle is to recognize that you haven’t yet arrived at your goal, but you’re making progress.

Scripture is full of struggles.  Abraham struggled.  Jacob struggled.  The disciples struggled.  And every struggle was a learning opportunity.

As Disciples, we are most definitely Christians.  We follow the way of Christ.  For us, it is the way.

But as we grow in understanding, we come to realize that it is not the way for everyone.  Others have found different ways, different paths.

I think it was Marcus Borg who addressed this when he spoke at Chapman University’s Founders Day a few years back.  He acknowledged that scripture says that Jesus is “the way, the truth, and the life.”  How, then, can one say that there are other paths to God, other “ways?”

Marcus Borg explained it like this.  He, like many other men who love their wives, refers to her as the one for him.  There is no other.  She is the one. The only one. 

I can say that about my wife.  Many of you can say that about your spouse.

This is the language of love.  This is not meant to be a scientific fact.  Of course there are other women in the world.

But for a husband, there is only one woman.

Jesus is the way, the truth, the life.  There is no other.  This, Marcus Borg says, is the language of love. 

Maybe you need to struggle with that a little bit. 

If it helps, know that Marcus Borg is a Biblical scholar who has studied extensively the Bible, examining the original manuscripts, paying close attention to how language was used in ancient times.  And he’s not the only scholar to come to this conclusion.

You know, it wasn’t until I came here to Bixby Knolls Christian Church that my interest in the interfaith movement took off.  I had worked previously for Christian unity, but didn’t do much with the interfaith community.  I wasn’t really sure, as a Christian, that it was even appropriate.

Today, I thank God for the ways this congregation has ministered to me.  Bixby Knolls Christian Church has been involved in the interfaith movement through the South Coast Interfaith Council, and in these past six years I have learned a lot.

I have learned that there is truth and wisdom to be found in Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, and other world religions.  I have learned that the people who practice those religions are as devoted to peace and compassion as Christians are.  And through my own struggle, I have come to realize that, yes, God’s love is known to others in different ways.

And I have reached the point now where comments that reflect poorly on my Muslim or Jewish brothers and sisters really upsets me.  I see things posted on the internet about how all Muslims are murderers and my blood starts to boil.  The Muslims I know are people of peace.  Many of them show far more compassion than some of the Christians I know.  And they are as upset about the actions of a few radical Muslims who commit acts of terrorism as Christians are upset at the actions of a few radical Christians who commit acts of hate and violence in Christ’s name.

If we as Christians want to target extremists, we’d do better to start with those in our own house, lest we go about pointing at splinters in other people’s eyes while we walk around with logs in our own eyes.

Too often, we talk about the hostile extremists of other faiths while ignoring the hatred that spews from the mouths of Christians.  Until we can learn to work on developing our own compassion and grow our own understanding, erasing the ignorance of other cultures and religions that is so prevalent among American Christians, then we have no right to judge other cultures and other religions.

This, I believe, is consistent with the teachings of Jesus, who welcomed Samaritans even though his fellow Jews would have nothing to do with Samaritans, and would rather hurl rocks at them than engage in dialogue. 

And I am thankful that my faith is nurtured by a movement that does emphasize the unity of all Christians, a movement that, at the same time, struggles to understand how God’s love is known to others in different ways.

I never want to stop struggling to understand.  I never want to close my mind.  I never want to stop learning.  When we do that, not only do we confine ourselves to the swamp of ignorance, but we also perpetuate the ideas that in fact have caused so much suffering on this planet.  Fear of the other, fear of what we don’t understand, and especially fear of religions we don’t understand, is perhaps the greatest threat to world peace.  I don’t know, it might be tied with mismanagement of the world’s resources. 

But certainly, one of the surest ways to work for peace in our world is to overcome the misunderstandings and ignorance we have concerning other religions, and to start treating all people of all religions with kindness.

The Centrality of Scripture (Psalm 119:105-112; Genesis 7:6-10)

Many of us who grew up in a Disciples of Christ congregation are familiar with the phrase, “No creed but Christ, no book but the Bible.”  This motto implies that Jesus and scripture are central to our faith, and that other tests for membership are not.

And it’s true today.  When we have a question of faith, we turn to scripture, and to the witness it bears to Jesus.  The early leaders of our movement believed this was sufficient.  Creeds, statements of faith, and other writings were not to be used as tests of fellowship.

As we continue our “Pastor’s Class” in this season from Easter to Pentecost, we continue focusing on the principles of identity for the Disciples of Christ, and today’s principle of identity emphasizes the role of scripture. 

It says:

We hold the centrality of scripture, recognizing that each person has the freedom – and the responsibility – to study God’s Word within the community of the church.

Scripture is central to our faith.  It’s important to read scripture, to know it, to study it.  I don’t think anyone here would argue that.

So let me offer you some tools to help you do just that, tools to help you carry out your responsibility to study God’s Word.

I have enjoyed watching the TV show COSMOS with Neil DeGrasse Tyson these past couple of months.  Last week, the show briefly mentioned the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh, one of the oldest stories known to exist.  With parts of it written down 18 centuries before Christ, it is older than the Bible.

Among the stories told in the Epic of Gilgamesh is the story of a great flood that covered the earth, and a wise man – Utnapishtim – who was instructed by the gods to build an ark to rescue his family and animals.

Jews and Christians watching the show no doubt noticed the similarity to the story of Noah.  Some may even have thought that the show got it wrong, got things mixed up somehow, mistaking Utnapishtim for Noah. 

But the truth is that the story of a great flood is one of the world’s most ancient stories, shared by a number of religions. 

Back when I was a student and I first learned that some of the stories that we think are unique to the Bible are actually much older than the Bible – that the Bible took these ancient stories and adapted them to fit its own narrative – I wasn’t quite ready for it.

Having been a Christian all my life, and having heard the story of Noah – Noah, not Utnapishtim! ­– since I was a little child, I felt a sense of ownership regarding these stories.  As a Christian, they were, well, mine.  They belonged to me and my people.  As a Christian, I felt I could take these stories – that I had the right – to put them in a box, carry them around, and do what I wanted with them.  And anyone who tried to tell me that these stories didn’t belong to Christianity, that they were, in fact, much bigger and much older, well… they were just wrong! 

But they weren’t. 

The story of Utnapishtim and the great flood was written down a thousand years before it was retold in the book of Genesis.  It is one of the oldest writings of human civilization.

At the time, this was a challenging thing for me to learn.  But today, learning things like this excites me.  Knowing that I can’t place stories like this and carry them around, is actually amazing.  It’s wonderful.  It’s awe-inspiring.  This story, and stories like it, are bigger than I am.  They’re even bigger than my Christian faith.  The church cannot put these stories into a box and claim ownership of them, and I most certainly cannot.

A lot of Christians try to take ownership of the stories of scipture.  In the same way, they try to take ownership of God.  They’ll put God in a box and carry that box around with them.  Their box defines who God is.  Their box defines how the ancient stories should be interpreted.  Their box allows them to control God and control scripture.

But if God can be controlled, then God is not really God.  The one who controls God has become more powerful than God, and therefore has become a god himself.

We cannot contain God in a box of our own making.  We cannot contain the ancient stories in a box that we built.  We cannot contain Truth (with a capital ‘T’) in a box.

And what is the Truth that is contained in a story like the story of the Great Flood?  The waters symbolize chaos and destruction, and yet, through that chaos and destruction, humanity prevails.  Life goes on.

That is a powerful truth.

Does that truth depend on whether the protagonist is named Noah or Utnapishtim?

No.

In the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh, the gods are so frightened by the flood that they ascend to heaven and cower like dogs.  The Biblical writers re-wrote the story to show a God who is in control.  Then again, the Biblical story of the great flood is actually two different versions of the story mushed together.  This is obvious to anyone who reads it.  The story jumps back and forth, and even contains contradictions, saying that seven of each clean animal came onto the ark, then saying just a few verses later that only two of each animal came onto the ark.  Why the contradiction?  Because it’s two different versions of the story combined into one.

Further truth that this ancient story is bigger than any one version of it.

On the show COSMOS, Neil DeGrasse Tyson mentioned that there were times in earth’s history when an asteroid of such enormous size crashed into earth, making earth uninhabitable for all life.  (This was long before humans or other mammals were present.)  And yet the ginormous impact of that asteroid blasted fragments of rock into space, fragments which carried microscopic forms of life with them.  These lifeforms survived millions of years on those rocks before they came back to earth as meteorites; and when they did, they re-introduced life on earth, so that, despite the total destruction caused by the giant asteroid, life on earth continued.

That in itself is kind of a Noah’s Ark story, is it not?  Life on earth is destroyed, and yet some of that life is safely carried by an ark in the form of a meteor, which returns to earth when it is safe for life to begin again.

It all kind of blows one’s mind, doesn’t it?

So, for me, scripture has become a sort of window into a world that is much bigger than the window itself.  Without the window I could not see that new world.  But it would be a mistake to think that the window itself is that world or somehow contains that new world. 

And yet, that is how many people do interpret scripture.  They think that the whole world that is Truth is somehow contained on the pages of scripture.  Scripture becomes a box in which Truth is contained.

For me, it’s the other way around.  Truth is much bigger.  God is much bigger.  Bigger than I can imagine.  And scripture is but a window into that world, an opening through which I can catch but a glimpse of God or a glimpse of Truth. 

Moses once asked to see God, but God said it would be too much.  What human could possibly see all that God is?  What human could possibly know all of God, all of Truth?  It’s too much.

But God did allow Moses just a glimpse.  God told Moses to stand in a cleft of rock, a gap or opening in the rock, and God would walk by … but as God walked by, God would cover Moses with God’s hand until God had passed, and then once God had passed, Moses could look and see only a glimpse of God’s backside; but God’s face certainly could not be seen.

I always laugh at this story.  If you take it literally, what does Moses get to see?  God’s butt!  And if I were one who interprets scripture literally, I suppose I’d have to, at some point, examine God’s butt – I’m speaking metaphorically now – and what exactly does it mean that Moses could only see God’s butt as God passed by?

I don’t think that’s the right way to interpret this story.

Moses has to hide in the cleft of the rock; that limits what Moses can see.  Moses can see something; but it is impossible for him to grasp everything. 

It kind of reminds me of Plato’s Cave.  In that story, people are locked in a cave and can’t even see out of the cave, but can only see shadows on the wall of the cave.  The meaning is similar.  There is so much more to reality, to Truth, than we can grasp or understand.  But we can graps and understand something.  A shadow.  A glimpse.  A passing image.

Scripture helps us do that.

And for that reason, scripture is central to our faith.  Scripture is a light to our path, as the psalmist says.

Scripture is not the path, and we cannot see the whole path.  But scripture does illuminate just that part of the path that is in front of us.  Just a glimpse. It is a light unto our feet.

The lamp does not contain the path.  Scripture does not contain truth.  It is not a box that confines.  Some people stare at the lamp as if it were everything … and they end up stumbling because their eyes are on the lamp and not the path.

God’s word is a lamp unto my path.  It guides me.  But it itself is not the path.

To me, that makes the stories of scripture all that much more powerful and meaningful.  These stories are not limited by my own interpretations.  They are not limited by the restraints I may try to place upon them.  They do not contain all the truth that there is, but instead point to a truth that is even greater and much bigger than any words can contain.

Isn’t that exciting!

The final part of the principle of identity says that we study God’s word within a community of faith. Well, why do we need the community?  Why don’t we just read it on our own?

Let’s go back to the window analogy.  Say you and I are in a room with a window.  We both look through the window, but because we stand in different spots, what we see out the window is slightly different.  Maybe you see a tree.  Maybe I can’t see the tree, but from where I’m standing, I can see a distant house…  I could insist that you stand where I’m standing, so that your view of the world matches mine…

Or, we could share with each other what we see through the window, each of us, from our own perspective.  If we do that, we gain a bigger picture of the world outside, a greater awareness and understanding than either of us could have achieved on our own.

I used to be afraid of what others saw through the window; afraid that it wouldn’t match what I saw. 

But now I realize that what others see through the window only adds to my own understanding.  They can see things from their perspective that I can’t see from mine. For this reason I keep an open mind.

Many seminaries these days are good at teaching students to appreciate these varying perspectives.  I had lessons and even whole classes on theology from different perspectives: theology from a hispanic perspective, from an African-American perspective, from a feminist perspective, from a gay and lesbian perspective, and so on.  Each perspective adds to one’s understanding of the truth.

So the more involved you are in a community of faith, and the more diverse that community is, the greater your understanding will be.

Which is one of the reasons this congregation is such a blessing to me!

Baptized with Christ (Romans 6:1-11)

On these Sundays between Easter and Pentecost, we are engaged in a sort of Pastor’s Class, which is a class designed for those who are thinking about joining the church.  Traditionally – or at least back in my day – this was done on weekdays after school, at least for youth who were planning on being baptized.  I remember learning about the church and how it works, and getting things like stickers and rulers when I successfully memorized all the books of the Bible in order.

Well, times have changed, and so has the class.  All of you, simply by being present, have been enrolled in the class.  Just remember that class is not finished until you discuss the questions during fellowship time. 

And for those of you who are not yet members of Bixby Knolls Christian Church and would like to find out more, please let me know.  I’d love to talk to you about that.

Last week, we talked about the confession of faith.  The week before that, our topic was communion. 

We’ve also talked about how we in the Disciples of Christ embrace diversity, about how we are called to participate in God’s mission for the world, and how we anticipate God’s coming reign or kingdom.

Today’s topic is baptism.

For much of my life, I have tried to understand my own baptism.  What does it mean to be baptized?

I couldn’t quite figure it out.

And this bothered me, in part because I knew that pastors are supposed to have things like this figured out, so that they can help other people figure them out.

I think the problem was that I tried to find an answer that I could grab on to. I was very good in school, grabbing on to answers.  I could store facts in my brain, and at test time, I could take all the information I had acquired and do quite well.

Understanding baptism should work the same way, I thought.

But it doesn’t.

I’m beginning to learn that baptism isn’t about grabbing on to answers. It isn’t about grabbing on to anything. 

And I’m beginning to learn that baptism isn’t about acquiring information.  It isn’t about acquiring anything.

Baptism isn’t about grabbing on to anything or acquiring anything.  It’s about letting go.

I just read an amazing book by Daniel Robert Anderson.  The title of the book is Losing Your Faith, Finding Your Soul: The Passage To New Life When Old Beliefs Die.  It is a book that I think I am just now – at age 43 – almost ready for.  Perhaps I’ll be more ready in another five years, and I’ll read it again.  And five years after that.

Because it’s really a book about faith for people have realized that life isn’t about grabbing on to things, acquiring things.  It’s a book about faith for people who have learned that life is really all about letting go. 

And for most people, learning to let go is something that doesn’t even start until one enters the second half of life’s journey.

In certain areas of my life, I did have a head start in learning to let go.  Like all of you, I grew up in a world that taught me that it’s all about how much you have.  You go to school to get good grades.  You get good grades to get in to a good college.  You graduate from a good college so you can get a good job.  You get a good job so you can earn a lot of money and have a nice house and go on a vacation every couple of years.

And while I was growing up, I worked some jobs so that I could start acquiring things right away.  One of my first teenage purchases was a stereo system for my bedroom, and of course the vinyl records to play on it, the first two being Boston and Julian Lennon. 

And in the summers, one of the things I did to earn money in between school years was work at a Boy Scout Camp in the Sierras.  There, I spent many weeks in a tent cabin with a wooden floor and canvas roof.  Everything I had for those weeks fit in a large duffel bag.  If I was able to secure a milk crate from the camp kitchen and attach it to the wall next to my cot so that I’d have a little shelf, I felt like I was living in luxury.

And I loved it!  Camp was amazing.  It was a great way to earn some money.  I loved the pine trees and the view across the lake and watching the clouds, wondering if they would develop into thunderstorms, and teaching younger scouts about nature and astronomy and environmental science while sitting on picnic tables beneath towering red fir trees…

What was I talking about?  Oh, learning to let go.  Well, it wasn’t until some years later, when I looked back on the time I spent in the mountains, that I realized that they were among the happiest times of my life.  And yet, they were the times I had the fewest possessions.  I didn’t have my stereo with me.   I just had my sleeping bag, a few changes of clothes, and not much else.

And I thought, maybe there is more to life than grabbing on to things, acquiring things.

I still have not mastered this important teaching.  Some things I still hold on to too tightly. Some things I’m not ready to let go of.

My body, for example.  I enjoy exercising and staying healthy.  And yes, there is just a little bit of vanity in that.  But at the same time, I know that I will, one day, have to let go of all the things that my healthy body now allows me to do.  Things like sight, hearing, and smell will begin to fade, and in fact that process has already begun.  And while I know some 70 and 80 year olds who ride their bikes much more than I do – and while I hope to be as active as them when I’m 70 or 80 – there will come a day when none of us are riding bikes anymore.  I’m not ready for that yet.  I’m not ready to let go.

But here’s something else that I’ve learned:  although I may not be ready to let go of things before the time comes, I’m becoming increasingly confident that, when the time comes, I will be ready.

To take the most extreme case:  I’m not ready to die.  The truth is that death scares me.  As a pastor, I probably shouldn’t say that, but it’s true.

I’m not ready to let go.

But I do believe that, when the time comes, I will be ready.  And when I say that, I mean that I actually see that happening.  The more I learn to let go, the more I know that I will be able to let go. 

This is the type of stuff Daniel Robert Anderson talks about in his book.  And that’s why I say that I am just now – at age 43 – almost ready to read it.  Because I’m just now at that point in life where my faith and my whole outlook on life is able to start thinking about letting go in a whole new way.

And because of my experience at scout camp, I know that letting go can be liberating.  It can be exhilarating.  It can be life-giving.

Even letting go of one’s life can be life-giving.

This is the life and the faith that I can see out there on the horizon for me.  I’m not there yet.  I think I’ve got a long way to go, and God willing a long time to get there.  And even though letting go of some things – like this body that, right now, can still do so much – is hard, I am looking forward to the journey I can see ahead of me, a journey in which I find freedom by letting go.

For those of you who are older than I am… I don’t know, I hope this makes sense.

For those of you who are younger than I am, perhaps your only thought right now is:  What the heck does all this have to do with baptism?

OK. Let’s talk about baptism.

First of all, our principle of identity.  For you young people, this is something to grab on to.  Remember, each sermon in this series is based on one or more of the Disciples of Christ principles of identity.  Today’s principle states:

We practice the baptism of believers, which emphasizes that God's grace demands a response of faith and discipleship, while also recognizing the baptism performed in other churches.

“We practice the baptism of believers…” This means that we wait to baptize someone until they are old enough to decide for themselves.  In other words, they are old enough to respond to the question I talked about last week: “Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the Living God, and do you proclaim him Lord and Savior of the World.”

We believe that waiting to baptize people until they are old enough to make that decision for themselves more closely follows the Biblical practice.  Jesus, after all, was baptized as an adult.  He was dedicated and anointed as a small child, but baptism came later.

However, the Bible does describe situations in which whole families were baptized together.  Did that include children too young to make that decision for themselves?  It’s not clear.  What is clear is that, even in scripture, there are different ways of practicing baptism.

For this reason, we do recognize the baptisms performed in other churches.  If you have been baptized elsewhere, even as an infant, we will never ask you to be re-baptized.  In fact, I would discourage it.  In baptism, God’s Spirit is active, and far be it from me to declare that what the Spirit has done on a previous occasion is invalid. 

What’s more important than how one is baptized is the meaning of baptism.  I already said that this is something that I’m still learning today, and that’s true of just about everything concerning faith:  Learning and understanding are life-long processes. 

But some things I can say.  The Apostle Paul says that all of us who have been baptized into Christ have been baptized into his death.

Think about that for a second:  we are baptized into death.  What does that mean?

It means that baptism is an act of letting go.

And what are we letting go of?

We’re letting go of the life we thought was ours.

We’re letting go of what the world says will make us happy.  We’re releasing our grasp of things like money and security and “settling down.” 

We are giving over control of our life to God.

“Not my will, but God’s will be done.  I surrender my life to you, Lord.  What do I know about what makes me happy?  What do I know about what gives life meaning?  I chase after all the wrong things.  I think all these things will make me happy, but they only add stress and worry.  Only following you, Lord, and allowing you to direct my life, will bring me any purpose and any lasting satisfaction in life.”

The apostle Paul – the one who wrote that we have been baptized into Christ’s death – was once a person who tried to structure the world to fit his own ideas and his own desires.  But then he met Jesus – literally – in a blinding light.

Methodist bishop William Willimon says that after that, Paul didn’t know whether to call that moment a moment of dying or a moment of birth.  In a way, it felt like both.  Most certainly, it involved Paul letting go of the world as he understood it, the world as it existed within his own mind.  It involved dying to that world, and allowing God to lead him into a whole new world, and a whole new way of understanding.

I’m a person who likes to be in control of all situations.  But when I was baptized, I was lowered into the water by a minister in whom I placed my trust.  He lowered me into the water, where, for just a moment, I could not breathe.  For that one moment, I gave up trying to save my life, and literally placed it in his hands.

It was all over in an instant, but ever since that day, I’ve been learning to do the same thing with God.  I haven’t learned it all.  But every day, I learn a little more about what it means to give up trying to save my life, to let go, and to place my life in God’s hands.

What Do You Say? (Matthew 16:13-23)

Jesus doesn’t bother much with theology.  In seminary, in order to graduate, I had to write a 30-page essay, a “Credo,” stating what I believed and why, being very sure to justify everything with sound, systematic theology.

But the disciples, they get off easy.  Or so it seems.  Jesus never asked them to write a 30-page essay.  He never gave them a timed examination or multiple-choice test.  He never asked them to defend their theology, their eschatology, or their soteriology. 

Like most people, they probably didn’t even know what all of these words mean.

But there was this one time, when Jesus asked this one question; a question about Christology; a question about their understanding of who he was.

The question went like this:

“Who do you say that I am?”

OK, actually that was the 2^nd question.  But the first question was really just a warm-up.  I remember teachers in school that would give us a warm-up activity, a short, five-minute exercise that we were to do as soon as we took our seats. 

The purpose of the warm-up exercise was to get our minds working.

Jesus’s warm-up question was: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”

Now the commentaries say that when Jesus mentioned the Son of Man, he was talking about himself.  So when he said “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” he meant, “Who do people say that I am?”

But I don’t know. The prophet Daniel talked about the Son of Man, an individual who would come to rule the greatest kingdom on earth, the kingdom of God.  Maybe what Jesus is saying is, “This Son of Man that Daniel talks about; who is he?”

Then again, the gospel of Matthew uses Daniel’s phrase the Son of Man, to refer to Jesus, so I guess even if Jesus meant it this way, he’s still talking about himself…

“Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”

Well, anyway, that’s an easy question.  The warm-up questions always are.

“Well, you know; some people say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some say Jeremiah or one of the other prophets…”

Easy.

Like so many tests that we take in school, all you need to do to have the correct response is pay attention.  Memorize the answer.  Regurgitate it back at test time.

Who ignited the Civil Rights movement by refusing to give up her seat on the bus?  Easy.  Rosa Parks.  If you’ve studied, if you’ve paid attention, you know the answer. 

And, it’s an answer that’s all in the head.  There is no emotional investment in that answer.  You could be a great civil rights leader, or an intolerant racist, and yet the answer would be the same.

Now since this sermon is a part of our ongoing Baptism and Membership Class, I will point out that too often, churches ask these same types of questions of those who want to join the church; especially of young people who want to join the church.

And there is some value in questions like these.  It’s important to know the facts.  When it comes to faith, it’s good to know things like what are the books of the Bible, and how do you find a passage, and what are some of the important stories from scripture. 

It’s even important to know what Christians believe about Jesus.  In other words, it’s good to know who people say that the Son of Man is.

And yet, whether you are a saint or the devil himself, the correct answers to questions like these would be the same.  It doesn’t matter who you are or what you believe, the 66 books of the Bible are the same.  You can answer questions like these with no emotional involvement whatsoever.

Clearly, Jesus wanted more than this.  So he asked that second question:

 “But who do you say that I am?”

This is a very different type of question.

It’s not asking who did this or what day they did it… Rosa Parks.  December 1, 1955.  Those are good things to know.  But a deeper question, one that takes it to the next level, would be:  “What does the Civil Rights Movement mean to you?”  That is, to you, personally?

Answering a question like that requires more than just pulling names and dates from various places.  It requires looking into oneself.  It requires examining one’s emotional attachments.  It’s a question of the heart.

“But who do you say that I am?”

The apostle Peter was quick to respond.  Maybe too quick. 

“You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” 

Well, that is a good answer.  Jesus congratulated Peter on that answer. 

And then Jesus began to talk about how the path he was on would eventually lead to his death.

And Peter protested.  “No way, Lord!  God forbid it!  This must never happen to you!”

Peter believed that Jesus was the Messiah.  Peter also believed that the Messiah must be triumphant over all things in order to accomplish his mission.  Peter believed that, as the Son of Man come to establish the Kingdom of God, Jesus must live a long life, exercising power and authority.  How else can a ruler rule?

But this kind of power and authority are exactly what Jesus was tempted by in the wilderness.  Satan offered Jesus power and authority, and Jesus refused.  Here, power and authority are offered again, this time by Peter, who is very willing to use his sword to help Jesus achieve that power and authority, defending him from those who would kill him.  And since this is one of Jesus’s greatest temptations, his referring to Peter as Satan is no figure of speech.  In that moment, Peter is the great tempter.  Peter is Satan.

It’s all rather complicated, isn’t it?

During these sermons between Easter and Pentecost, I’ve been presenting to you the Principles of Identity for the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).  I’ve been jumping around, taking them out of order.

Today’s Principle of Identity is actually the first one on the list; and it goes like this:

We confess that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and proclaim him Lord and Savior of the world, requiring nothing more – and nothing less – as a basis of our life together.

The word Christ is the Greek translation of the word Messiah.  Christ and Messiah mean the same thing. 

Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God, has become the one criterion for membership in our congregation and other congregations of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). 

We don’t ask you anything else.

We don’t require any other answers.

We don’t require you to have a certain answer on the virgin birth, or the proper way to interpret scripture, or whether or not Jesus’s second coming is something we can expect to happen in a real, literal way. 

We just ask you to confess – like Peter did – that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and that Jesus is the Lord and Savior of the world.

If you want to join the church, I will ask you that one question.  All you have to do … is say yes.

“Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and do you proclaim him Lord and Savior of the world?”

“Yes.” “I do.”

Welcome to the church!

It’s that easy.

Like I said, no 30-page essay.  No multiple-choice test.  Being a disciple is easy!

Or so it seems.

When I was a boy scout, I learned the scout oath and the scout law.  And when I say “I learned them,” what I mean is that I memorized them.  I could recite them, clearly, flawlessly.

I still can, and I do, as a leader in Troop 29.

It’s been well over 30 years since I first learned the scout oath and law.  However, today I think a lot more about what I’m saying when I recite them. 

Thirty years ago, I did give some thought to the meaning of the words, but most of my effort went into memorizing them so I could recite them, a requirement to move up in rank. 

I no longer need to work on memorizing the oath and law.  They are such a part of me that I can rattle them off, anytime, anyplace, with no effort at all.

But I find myself spending more time thinking about the meaning of those words. 

For example, I think about the 6^th point of the Scout Law:  a scout is kind.  What does it mean to be kind?  One could have all the right answers, I’ve discovered, and do all the right things, but still lack kindness.

I think about the scout oath:  What does it mean to be “morally straight?”  It is quite obvious that not everyone involved in scouting has the same answer to that question.  How do I fight for what I believe is morally straight?  And how do I do that while still being kind?

These are not “Who refused to give up her seat on the bus?” kinds of questions.  These are “What does the civil rights movement mean to you?” kinds of questions. 

They’re deep.  And personal.

And the same is true of the question asked of those who join the church.  “Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and do you proclaim him Lord and Savior of the world?”

All members of the church have answered “yes” to that question.  But I hope it doesn’t stop there.  Because this really is a deep question of the heart.

In matters of faith, when we ask “Do you believe,” what is really meant is “Do you be-love?”  In other words, is your heart committed to this?  Is your life devoted to this?  Do you believe in it with all your being?

Is your life devoted to Jesus?  Are you passionately committed to following him?  … Isn’t that what it means to affirm him as Lord?

The disciples answered the question.  The words were easy. 

But then they learned that believing in Jesus meant being devoted to him and his cause, putting him first in their lives.  Nothing else could be or would be as important as following Jesus, learning to love all people as Jesus did, showing kindness and compassion to all, and challenging the oppressive systems and powers that keep people from experiencing God’s love.

The disciples didn’t figure this all out right away.  Throughout the gospels, they are confused, foolish, blind, and prone to mistakes.

Obviously, it’s not because they had all the right answers or made all the right choices that they were called to be disciples.

It’s because their hearts were in the right place.  It’s because they were willing to follow Jesus, wherever he led them.  It’s because they were willing to learn from him, and keep learning. 

It’s because absolutely nothing was more important to them than serving the one they claimed was the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

This is our invitation to you:  join the church.  Be a part of a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.  We’ll only ask you one question: Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the Living God, the Lord and Savior of the world?

It’s a simple question that requires a simple “yes.”  But it’s a question of the heart, and that “yes” is something you will live out for the rest of your life.