Just as I have loved you

A few days ago, a friend was telling me a bit about the Wild Goose Festival. Jim Wallis of Sojourner fame told the group that our sole guide for racial and social justice is our Baptismal Covenant. I replied that our Baptismal Covenant should be our sole guide for every aspect of our lives.

There is one Body and one Spirit;

There is one hope in God’s call to us;

One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism;

One God and Father of all.

Were we to go no further in the Baptismal Covenant, this opening verse and response should tell us all we need to know.

We are a single unit, strands knitted together by God, the Father, God, the Son, and God, the Holy Spirit. We, all of us, are one united through our baptism.

Yet, there is more. We are called into accountability.

Will you be responsible for seeing that the child you present is brought up in the Christian faith and life?

Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ?

Each child is brought into this oneness with a vow made by the parents and godparents – I will, with God’s help. This is a very serious promise. We enter into a covenant, with God, with that child, to bring that child up in the Christian faith and life and promise to help that child grow into the full stature of Christ. That is a very big deal. I wonder if we know what we are promising the first time we say it.

Personally, I failed miserably as a god parent. Twenty+ years ago, a young woman asked me to be a godparent to her two children. I barely knew the woman except for the fact that she lived near the parish and had been coming to church for a little while. I said yes. I should not have said yes. I made a vow and broke it in my ignorance. I did not understand the full nature of the promise. At the time, I had no idea as to the “full stature of Christ.” I am sure I continue to lack full knowledge of that phrase but I do know much more now than I did then.

Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

I have always answered dutifully, “I will, with God’s help.” And I mean it, every time. I try to proclaim by example, if not always by word, the Good News of God in Christ; meaning, that I try to love God with all my heart, and soul, and mind, and love my neighbor as God loves me.

I am fairly good about these first two promises, at least, I am when I am at work. I am not always a shining example of God’s love, especially when my next door neighbors are shooting cannon firework off in front of my house on the sidewalk. Nor am I a very good example of God’s love when an unconcerned and seemingly selfish driver does something stupid and careless in front of me on the road. Nor do I do a very good job of loving my neighbor or being an example of that love when I read the ongoing fear-mongering on social media. 

Still, I try. I agree that Thomas Merton’s prayer “But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you” is what pleases God; just the simple fact that, indeed, I do try. Yet, the first of these two do not ask that we “try”; rather, that we “proclaim” and “seek and serve Christ in ALL persons” regardless.

The third one calls us into action, asking will we “strive for justice and peace” – among ALL people. And that further, we “respect the dignity” of EVERY human being.

Again, at work, I do strive diligently to do this. And actually, it is far easier to love people than we might first think. I do try at home too. Sometimes, it is difficult. Like when I come home from work and feel as though every ounce I had to give was given away. There seems to be no more. Yet, I am asked by word, thought, or deed, to do so. I get grouchy and resentful.

But I know in all of this, in all of my lack, in all of my more, I know I am trying. The more I try, the more I practice, the more real it becomes. I am a slow work of love.

I told a guy that I loved him. I saw his face change. It was the first time I had ever said it to him. He has been coming to the pantry and hot lunch for over a year. I remember when he first came, he was dirty, belligerent, smelly, and totally disrespectful. He is still. At first, I reacted to his behavior. If he was nice, so was I. If he wasn’t, I reacted in a negative way. 

I don’t think that tough love works very well.

Over the past few months, I came to the realization that he is often “acting out” just as a rebellious teen might do. He expects people to be irritated with him, to be repelled, to be shocked; therefore, he is irritating, shocking deliberately. He said he played the piano, so I had the piano returned to the parish hall. He doesn’t play. However, there is a certain rhythm to his tunes that lends a certain quality to the music. It sounds like music, only a piece no one has ever before heard. More than anything, it changes him when he plays. I think it calms him. I believe that he knows that it irritates some people but that I allow it. I think he respects that. He always tells me thank you.

When he asked me why I do the things that I do, I told him, “because I love you.” He cocked his head to one side and laughed but then he realized that I was sincere. It mattered.

Does my love cure him of whatever caused him to be homeless? No. Of course not. Does he trust me in all things and will never argue with me again, be belligerent or irritating? No. But it lets him know that he matters.

I take seriously the covenant I have made with God. It is the basis for all things. I realize that now, at this age, after all my life’s yearnings and earnings. I know this now. It feels natural, finally. I don’t always succeed but it lives before me, pulling me onward, teaching me new ways to love God and to love my neighbor as I am loved.

We are one in the Body. We are one in the Spirit. There is one hope in God’s call to us. There is One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism; One God and Father of all.

Striving for life in this oneness is what our Baptismal Covenant is all about. There would be no need to strive for justice, mercy or respect if we heard and lived into the two most important commandment: Love God with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your mind; and love your neighbor as yourself.

Sometimes our only job is to show other people how much they are loved. But first, we have to understand that we are, indeed, loved. Regardless. Steadfastly. Realizing that we are loved, that we are worthy of love, offers us the ability to share that love.

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’ John 13:34

We can’t learn to love or fully understand how much we are loved unless we work at being in relationship with one another.

We have to practice love every day. If you don’t know how much you are loved, contact me. I will tell you. I need the practice.

Into the Waters of My Baptism

One week ago, I stood on the shore of the Pacific Ocean on Cannon Beach, Oregon staring into what felt like the face of God. As the waves caressed my feet, I knew the feel of ruach, the breath of God, encompassing my whole being.

I remember the same feeling as I stood on the shores of Lake Erie at Presque Isle in Pennsylvania. The power of the wind coming off of the water, the feel of the sand beneath my feet washing away as the water rushed forward and returned to its being, staring into the sunset, hearing the words of the Phos Hilaron; God was in that place.

When we were traveling in 2007, as we made our way across Missouri, we stopped at Eminence, Missouri. Near there are the two rivers, Jacks Fork and the Current. It was a fairly low water year and there were pools on the Current. The water was icy cold on that summer day. I walked into the water, thinking I could never dip all the way. But the thing about cold water is that after the initial shock, the skin goes numb. I have never been able to float and I can hold my breath quite a while. As I went into the water, I stood on the floor of the river with the water just over my head. I stared into the water, watching the baby trout as they explored this new thing in their home. I was mesmerized. I felt no need to breathe. I felt a peace that passed any expectation or understanding.

Suddenly, I realized that there was a loud but muffled noise above me. It was Debbie and Tucker shouting at me to come out of the water. I had been under for so long that it frightened them.

That is what the waters of God do to me.

I was baptized when I was ten years old in the First Baptist Church in Lipan, Texas. I had been asking to be baptized since I was about six but was told that, no, I had to wait. I was told that I wasn’t old enough to understand. But I knew that I needed to be baptized. I knew I needed to go into the water. Finally, on the same day that my step-grandfather was baptized, so was I.

It was, of course, a full immersion baptism. I remember the instructions of the preacher telling me how to hold on to his arm, that he would hold my nose as he laid me in the waters, and that he would immediately bring me back up out of the water. Then. Then, I would be Christ’s own forever.

When I first watched the movie, Big Fish, I fell immediately in love with it. While I do have some tales I can tell that might sound like tall ones, it wasn’t the main character’s ability to tell the stories that got to me. It was his need to be in the water, to be a part of the water, to be one with the water. That idea resonated clearly.

This past Sunday, we baptized three people into the body of Christ. Each time I witness a baptism, I feel the water being poured over the head of the new child of God. In the name of the Father. In the name of the Son. In the name of the Holy Spirit. The waters of baptism flow across the head…and sometimes into the eyes…of the baptized. Each is marked with the sign of the cross; marked as a child of God forever. We are one in the Body of Christ.

There is one Body and one Spirit; there is one hope in God’s call to us; one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, one God and Father of all.

That is what the waters mean to me. One Body. I felt that so clearly standing on the edge of the vastness of the ocean. Looking up the difference between ocean and sea, I found a piece of knowledge long ago learned and quickly forgotten: the oceans are in reality one large interconnected body of water. That re-memory heightened my sense of interconnectedness with water. To stand on the shore of the Pacific Ocean and to look into that never-ending greatness, I sensed the world in its first days of creation. There was the sun. There was the dome. There were the great waters that I stared into and the semi-dry land upon which I stood.

What other feeling could I feel but an overwhelming sense of being a part of something so much larger than myself; something so beyond my understanding; something so omnipotent. Thankful. The gratitude for being able to experience this greatness washed over me, baptizing me in a newness that healed yet left me longing for more.   

All praise and thanks to you, most merciful God, for adopting us as your own children, for incorporating us into your holy Church, and for making us worthy to share in the inheritance of the saints in light; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Solo Dios basta.