On Baptism

I am on retreat at a Trappist monastery. The place is so beautiful and so peaceful but it is full of boundaries. Signs boldly instruct: do not enter, silence at all times, exit by this door. It seems strange that a place called by God to welcome the stranger would be so full of boundaries and limits.

Because of my inability to enter the cloister where the monks spend the majority of their time, that place seems mysterious to me. I wonder what is behind the wall. I wanted to see, to touch, to be one of them.

The yearning for God is part of the Christian life. The inability to attain all that we want exactly when we want it is part of our fallen world. All humans yearn for what we cannot have. It is vital to occasionally say no to a child when you are parenting or that child will become troubled when they encounter the difficulties and challenges of the real world. They must understand that human life has limitations and requirements, that discipline is to be embraced.

The early Christians trusted in baptism as the initiation to the Christian faith. Catechumens or learners of the faith were told to leave after the Peace. They were not even allowed to see the consecration of the body and blood of Christ. The priest would shout, "The doors! The doors!" The catechumens would be escorted out and the doors were literally shut in their faces. The initiation process was difficult and time-consuming. They studied and fasted for forty days before their baptisms on Easter as the sun rose. And yet, the church grew and grew, for people long to be given a goal, a way to come closer to God.

We no longer close the doors of church to the unbaptized. We no longer ask more than just a simple meeting with a priest or perhaps a class prior to baptism. We invite all people to the altar rail and give the unbaptized a blessing. It has become so easy to receive the body and blood of Christ. I wonder, did the early Christians, in asking their new converts to work so hard to be baptized, give them a clearer understanding of the immensity of the gift that they were about to receive?

Now the Episcopal Church is considering open communion. We would give communion to all, without requiring anything, without baptism. This is born of a loving instinct, to include all people, not to judge, to love all. But what are the eventual ramifications of this? Will we be handing out communion to those who do not want to take the time to come to church at all? Will we do fast food Eucharists or drive-through communion, for those who cannot take the time but deserve it just as much as those who attend church? Where will we draw the line?

The word sacred or holy in the ancient Hebrew means set apart. The sacred has been set apart from the beginning of recorded human history, as a sign that God, though present in all things, transcends the ordinary and the mundane. That is why churches have been built, as signs of the holy presence of God, set apart and uplifted.

If we want to show Christ's love to the world, we must ask ourselves, "Does love always say yes? Does love never ask for discipline? Does love have no boundaries?" Americans resent being asked to wait, to yearn, to long for something. But perhaps holding up baptism as a rite of entry into the Christian life, though frustrating for many, increases our understanding of the need for humans to make a visible commitment to God. I know that many of the devout in my congregation long to be given requirements, long to be told how to become a member of the church and what is expected of them if they do. "What must I do?" they ask. "How can I draw closer to God?"

I will never forget the face of a young woman who waited all of Lent to be baptized at the Easter Vigil. At the moment of her communion, she experienced the holy, for she was invited to participate in something set apart. She had waited for communion, just as we wait for the coming of Christ in Advent. Her waiting itself was holy. She was truly included in the body of Christ and she was able to catch a glimpse of the immensity of that gift.

If boundaries and requirements are not loving, then the Trappist monks are not loving, for I have never seen as many rules as I do here. And I have never experienced such love as I do here, standing behind a cloistered wall, yearning to come inside.

Wounded David

En Gedi is a small oasis on the shore of the Dead Sea, in one of the lowest geographical points on the earth. Just off the coast of the sea are some cliffs with caves, where David used to hide over three thousand years ago. David was running away from the King of Israel, because the King wanted to kill him.

The story of King David rivals that of Jesus in its size and complexity. The life of David is described in such detail, with whole books of the Bible devoted to his person. And David's life was fascinating. It was like a soap opera, with intrigue and suffering, death and desire. Jesus was not ashamed to be called Son of David. Through almost all of his life, David's primary relationship was with God and no other.

It was God who directed the prophet Samuel to anoint David as the future King of Israel. It was God who gave David the strength and wisdom to fight the giant Phillistine Goliath and it was God who protected David when his idol and master, King Saul, began to go mad with jealousy.

David would play the harp for Saul, to quell his moods. David led Saul's armies into battle, but when David began to become more renowned than his master, Saul's spirit began to change. Soon Saul was hunting for David, eager to kill him.

So David moves from being beloved of the King to being hunted. And while he is running, he stops to hide in the caves of En-Gedi. David and his men go deep into the cave, where it is dark and cool, to rest. And who should come to the cave to relieve himself while they are resting, but Saul himself. Saul stands with his back to them, his front facing the opening of the cave, relieving himself. David's men make to kill the King but David quickly motions for them to stop. Quietly, he goes up to Saul's cloak and cuts a hole in it. When Saul is finished, he walks out of the cave. David waits until he has gone out a few yards and then he yells to Saul, "Don't you see that I am not out to murder you? I could have killed you just now. See, how I cut a piece out of your cloak? Please, I am on your side." But Saul will hear none of it and David once more must flee for his life.

When Saul and his son Jonathan are killed in battle with the Philistines, you would think that David would breathe a sigh of relief and take up his place as king. But he does not rejoice. He grieves. In today's passage, David weeps and sings a lament, for he loved both Saul and Jonathan and he will miss them dearly.

There is no real victor in war. I think we know this after so many years. No matter how justified a war is, no matter what kind of genocide we are trying to prevent or threat to peace has been set before us, the men and women who fight in battle come home grieving, for you cannot kill another human being without feeling a deep loss. There is no war without wounds. David felt those wounds even as he became king of all Israel.

David was a wounded warrior. He was not wounded physically, but mentally, as he lost his idol and his best friend to battle. And in that moment, when he cried out to God in pain, that was the moment that he became king. I think part of the reason why we love David so much is because his love was so great and he suffered terribly because of it. David writes a lament, a song of pain and sadness, as he pours his heart out to God. And strangely enough, David's moment of grief is one of the greatest moments of his life.

All of you will experience loss. Maybe you already have. Maybe the love of your life has died, maybe you cannot run or be active the way you once were. Maybe your children are leaving home. All of us will grieve something in this world. All of us will be wounded. And this moment of great weakness, when we realize that we were not strong enough to prevent death or tragedy, you will be faced with a choice. Will you feel sorry for yourself and be lost in self-pity? Will you suffer alone and diminish? Or will you go searching for Jesus? Will you share your pain with God like David did? David became greater in his weakness. Will you?

Jairus was the ruler of the synagogue at Capernaum. He was a man of prestige and wealth, a man who normally would have nothing to do with Jesus, a dirty itinerant preacher. But when Jairus' daughter was about to die, he became desperate. In his pain, he came to Jesus and begged for his daughters life. In his moment of greatest weakness, Jairus did the best thing of his life- he asked for help.

And Jesus came to him, because he asked from the bottom of his heart, from his poverty and his humility. Jairus came to Jesus as a wounded man.

I believe that this country is in a subtle state of mourning. We are divided along party lines in a way that we never have been before and this division, this hatred of ourselves is driven by grief. Because the security of our world was destroyed on 9/11 and we are wounded. Like someone who has lost a loved one, we have to say good-bye to the America that we once knew. Things will never be the same.

Today, let us remind ourselves that the greatest moments of life come when you acknowledge your weakness. Let us turn to Christ for help. We are in pain. We are afraid. Jesus, raise us to new life.

The church that I served in Kansas really began on the battlefield of France in World War One. A chaplain from Kansas named Otis Gray saw a soldier who had been shot and could not walk. The chaplain ran into the no mans land to grab the soldier. But the man asked for communion before he was carried to safety. So there, in the middle of that bloody field, Otis gave the man Christ's body and blood. And then he carried the man to safety.

The man survived and when the war was over, the two of them decided to plant a church. To this day, there is a glass case at St. James. In it is the small portable altar that the chaplain carried on the field, along with the flag, still stained with blood. The greatest moment of their lives, the place where a church began, was on that field. So don't you believe that God can do some of the greatest work with you at precisely that moment when you feel most wounded? Don't you believe that?

Facing Goliath

A salesman was in a therapy support group with a banker. Both men were recently divorced and trying to learn how to live as single men. They found the support group to be a source of strength, a place where they could be truly honest. Then the salesman ran into the bankers wife in the grocery store. They laughed and chatted. Next thing he knew, she had invited him over for dinner. And he said yes.

It's just dinner, Jim thought. It's just an evening. No need to tell Bob about it. It would only upset him, and nothing will come of it. We are just friends.

So he went to dinner. And it went really well. He had not laughed like that in years. He knew that he must tell Bob, that their friendship was important, but he could not bring himself to do it. He kept thinking about how much it would upset Bob, so when the support group met again, he just said that he met a woman and the whole group celebrated with him. Bob gave him a big hug. And Jim felt like a storm was brewing but he just could not face it. All he could do was wait.

No one wanted to fight the Philistine. He was a huge man, a giant. He had the best armor. He was just scary. So the Israelites sat there and waited in their tents like children. They sat there in shame for days. Until young David came.

He was just a boy. He had never fought in battle. He had no armor. He was small, a shepherd. But he was willing to walk into the battlefield alone and face a giant soldier. And the only reason he was willing was because he genuinely believed that God would win the battle for him. He saw not himself as fighting Goliath, he saw God fighting Goliath and he was God's servant. This was a battle that had to be fought and he was willing to face it.

David steps out into the field to face a foe that should have crushed him. And what does he fight with? He decides not to try to be a warrior who wields a sword. He doesn't know anything about swordsmanship. So David just does what he knows, what he does well. He gets out his slingshot. Gathering five smooth stones, he launches one right at Goliath. It hits the giant in the forehead and the giant falls. Goliath falls from a simple stone cast by a simple boy, a boy who was willing to look trouble in the eye and do all that he could to face it head on.

The disciples couldn't face the storm as they saw it approaching that evening. They saw the clouds, the rain and they couldn't do it, they were terrified. But instead of running or hiding, they did something right. They called on Jesus. He was fast asleep, unconcerned about the storm, so they woke him. Jesus stands up, faces the storm and says just one word. Peace. And the storm clouds fade.

Why is it that we are afraid to face conflict? Why do we do all that we can to run from the storms? Jim did not want to tell Bob because it would be painful. Jim thought, "It will hurt Bob, it will cut him to the bone to know that I have betrayed him, but if I refuse to see her, I will have to confront her and I will have to say goodbye to the most hopeful relationship of my life." The difficulty was so great that Jim hid from it, and his avoidance only made things worse. The storm got stronger, fed by his neglect.

We do all that we can to avoid pain in life, to protect ourselves against the storms, the battles, the conflicts that come to us. But there is no way to get away from pain in this world, it is like trying to walk between the raindrops. You cannot avoid conflict in this life. If you try to run, you will only make it worse. At some point, you and I are all going to have to step out alone and face Goliath.

What does Goliath look like? A troubled marriage. A problem with alcohol. Realizing that our children are in pain or that we have not been happy in our career for years. And we don't want to face it. We want so desperately to pretend that everything is OK. Because we don't think that we have the strength to fight.

But if you sit long enough in your tent, Goliath will come to you. David knew this. The storm will come. So call on Jesus to stand there with you. And find out what you are good at. Fight the storms of life with whatever God has given you, your writing or your art or your voice or your music, fight with exercise or friendships or whatever it is that you love. Bring your best gifts to the battle, no matter how insignificant they may seem, for God can do so much with so little.

The Assistant Bishop of Peru is here with us today. He is here to pray with us because his people are desperately poor and they are trying to build churches on mountainsides in desolate areas. They need our help. The Goliath's that he faces are large and insurmountable. They are poverty and hopelessness. But he comes to us to face these problems head on, to do what he does best which is to pray and ask for help. He comes to one church in Jacksonville for one smooth stone to sling at the forces of darkness. He comes for our generosity and our prayers.

It is so hard to look life straight in the eye, to go out and meet her. It is hard to get that checkup when you think something might be wrong but you don't really want to know. It is hard to realize that you are not happy and to ask yourself why. It is so hard not to just run and hide, but storms only gain speed and momentum when they are ignored. So stand up, like Jesus did. Stand up, like David. Look at them. There are always storm clouds of one type or another in our lives. They change size and shape but they are always about, the storms of life. Look at them square in the face. See where they are and choose your weapon. Then walk into battle.

You do have one incredible weapon to take with you through all the challenges of life. You have a tremendous secret inside your heart, a knowledge that makes you immensely powerful, no matter what the outcome.

The secret is this: No matter what happens to you in this life, the battle has already been won.

It has already been won.

The Madness of Humanity

I knew a man who took no risks. He lived by this philosophy, "The devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't know." In this way, he stayed put with things as they are. When he was offered a new job, he refused to take it, even though he did not like his current job at all, but the new job might be worse, he'd think. He lived in a big old home that cost him a great deal to keep up but when we suggested he downsize, he claimed that something worse was sure to happen to the new home. This was Samuel the prophet's tendency as well, to stick with what he knew. Samuel did not like change. But Samuel was also a prophet and when the rubber hit the road, he did what God asked.

At first, Samuel did not want to anoint a King. God was supposed to be King of Israel and when the people asked for a human king, Samuel the prophet was disappointed. He hated the idea and the subsequent change that would ensue. He refused until God reminded him who was in charge. After some discussion with God, Samuel annointed Saul.

Saul was like a movie star. He stood a head taller than everyone else. He was so handsome, there was no one who could hold a candle to him. He was one tough, super-hero type guy. So he was the best and most obvious choice for king of Israel. He was everyone's first choice.

Saul ruled for a number of years before he began to crack. Maybe it was his handsomeness that led to him thinking too much of himself. Maybe he became used to getting his own way, to being honored, revered. Whatever happened, Saul began to do what he wanted instead of what God wanted and from that moment on, he was doomed.

God abandoned Saul and told Samuel that it was time to anoint another king. Samuel did not like the idea. Well, technically, Saul was still on the throne. And Samuel did not like change. He was used to Saul, faults and all. Samuel grumbled, but finally agreed to listen to God's instructions and go to Jesse's house to anoint a king.

Samuel travels to the home of Jesse. There is this great scene where Samuel watches as the sons of Jesse are paraded in front of him in the order of their birth. They are so tall! They are so handsome! This must be the future king! Samuel thinks. Or him! Or him! But God does not want Samuel to anoint any of them. None. Samuel begins to feel crazy. Did he come to the right house? Did he get the message straight? He sits there, dumbfounded. And then he asks the most important question of his life.

"Are these all of your sons?" he asks.

And finally, the little boy who tended the sheep is brought forward. And Samuel anoints him.

David will become an even greater king than Saul but he just did not look like the rest. He was so different.

Human beings are a bit mad. We live in a state of delusion. Christians call it sin. Hindus call it maya, or delusion. All of the great religions of the world agree on this point, that humans are a bit crazy. We have the capacity to do wonderful things but also the capacity to live our lives in a state of madness. This madness stems from our belief that things must stay the same. We make maps for ourselves, maps of how our lives ought to progress. From an early age, we draw up these maps based on the expectations of our parents or friends, pictures that we create in our minds of what success should look like. We then spend our lives listening to these maps, trying to follow them instead of listening to God.

I need to get married. I need to have kids. The kids should behave and do well in school. There should be harmony. Whatever our maps are, we keep looking at them and trying to force our lives to look like them. We stop listening, meanwhile God is parading the king in front of our eyes, but he doesn't look like what we expected so we pass him by.

King David has become the quintessential king for all Jews all over the world. Ironically, the young boy who was almost passed by has now become the new ideal. The Messiah was supposed to look like David, which was why so many people refused to recognize Jesus, because he did not act or look like what they expected. But everybody forgets that, at the beginning, no one thought David seemed kingly at all.

Jesus said that God' kingdom is like a mustard seed. It surprises you. What seems insignificant can make a huge impact in the world while the most impressive things just fade away. In other words, God's plans are so surprising but they are so much better than our crazy old maps.

Look at Lady Julian of the 14th century. She lived alone in a room. She wrote about God in such a way that most people thought she was mad. She called God he and she. She told us that everything would be OK in a time when plagues coursed through Europe killings thousands and God was seen as scary and unpredictable. Her writings were lost only to be found centuries later, at a time when we can see that she was a true prophet. And now her writings are read all over the world. She is famous and she never left her room. No one could have ever predicted that she would touch so many lives. She broke all the molds, erased all the maps, and did just what God asked of her.

The National Episcopal Church will meet in a few weeks to discuss the future of the church. Controversial issues such as the blessing of gay relationships and if we should give communion to people who are not baptized, these issues are on the table to be discussed and pondered. But the deeper question which underscores everything is about the future. What will our church look like in 50 years? This Cathedral is a rare beacon of growth and hope in a time when many Episcopal churches are shrinking and even dying. Denominations themselves seem to be blending together. What is to come next?

If we look to the story of David, we must believe that something new and unexpected will happen, that the church will change and it will look different than it has looked before. But we also will learn that it is God alone who knows what it will look like. Our job is to put aside our maps, our thoughts of the way that things should be, and listen. God will identify our new leaders, our new ways and hopes and dreams, but they may look very different from what we expected.

I love how, when Samuel has seen all of the brothers, he does not just leave in frustration, but he asks Jesse, "Are there any others?" He sticks around to ask the question which results in David's appearance.

That is what we should be asking God every day. Is this what you want? Where is my next step? My life may look different than anything that I could have imagined. Is this what you have in mind for me, God? Not my will, but yours be done.




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The Whale and the Trinity

Just last week a humpback whale was discovered by a fisherman in the ocean just off the coast from the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. The whale had gotten tangled in a series of crab traps and fishing lines. She seemed unable to move. The fisherman radioed for help.


The coast gaurd came along with volunteer divers from an environmental group. They quickly realized that the only way to free the whale was to cut her free, one wire at a time. They got their scuba gear, curved knives, and got to work.

The whale was surprisingly still, as if she knew exactly what they were doing. She did not flail or wriggle or try to fight. One man was assigned to get a wire trap out of her mouth. As he cut through the wires, she just looked at him out of her great eye, watching his every move. He said that he will never be the same.

It took many hours to cut her free, but when they finally succeeded, she did not just take off into the blue. Instead, she swam a number of joyous circles around and around and then returned to nudge each and every diver. She would swim up to them and butt them gently. It was her way of saying thank you.

Today is Trinity Sunday. It is the one day each year when we focus on the fact that God is Trinity. God is one and God is three. It is a mystical day when we try to talk about things that cannot be understood with the rational mind. It is a day of mystery in which we contemplate things that we cannot see.

In the gospel, Nicodemous is asking Jesus about God and Jesus is trying to explain that there is a whole other life beyond this physical one. But in order to experience this life, a person must be born by water and the Spirit. Nicodemous cannot understand Jesus because Jesus is talking about a reality that is new to him, a kind of life that he has never contemplated before. The Pharisees were so focused on following the rules that they did not ponder the unknown or mysterious aspects of God.

Jesus was trying to tell Nicodemous that those who are baptized have a life that is deeper and more true than the physical existence in which we live. In baptism, we are born to another life, a reality that exists eternally, a world that is more real than this one, and it is that world that is truly important.

The whale lives below the surface of the water. If we were to fly an airplane over that ocean and look down, we would not even see her, for she lives below the surface in another world made up of not air but water, not birds but fish. Everything's sounds different in her world. Everything looks different. And within this other world, she was all tangled up. She had gotten tangled up by all the cares and trappings of the world on the surface, but these trappings had effected her life below the surface. She was no longer joyful and could not swim. What the divers did was to release her to enjoy her life under the sea. They freed her so that she could dance again, and once she was free, she was full of joy and love.

God exists in dimensions that we cannot see. And yet, God is real, more real and more true than anything in this life. The first thing that Jesus asks us to do is just to acknowledge this reality, that God lives in us and that, in our baptism, we have a new life in God, a life below the surface, beyond our understanding, where there is eternity.

But the cares and occupations of this life can get us all tangled up. We can become consumed with thoughts about ourselves, our bodies, our loved ones, our jobs, our money. We get so consumed with all this that we begin to think that it is all there is. But a marriage, for example, cannot be successful if you put all your hopes on it and believe that it alone can complete you.

Take my friend up north, Jennifer. She is in her mid-thirties and finally met a man she would like to marry. But he is in the midst of a divorce from his first wife and he cannot think about getting married again right now. As much as he loves Jennifer, he cannot begin to contemplate marriage again. He is just not ready. So Jennifer has become more and more tangled up. The more she wants him to marry her, the needier she becomes. Her whole reality is tied up in her fantasy that marriage to him will make her life work. She is becoming a tangled up mess.

If Jennifer were to realize that her life was more than her status as single or married, that she had a life with God, a life of love and joy that began in her baptism, then she might not hold on so tightly. She would cut herself free from all the expectations and attachments and be able to love freely again.

Be careful to remember that this life, this dimension, is only the surface of the deeper life with God. Be careful not to measure your worth based on your successes or failures in this surface life. By worldly standards, Jesus himself was a complete disaster. But we all know he was so much more.

You are of infinite value. You are ageless, baptized ones. You are loved. Go and share this reality with everyone. You are born to something much more than just this surface life. Free yourself to dance there.