The Baptism of Our Lord
Texts: Mark 1:4-11;
Genesis 1:1-5
"LOVE -- MORE POWERFUL THAN
A SUPERHERO"
Children's Sermon
Handout page with six superheroes on them: Superman, Batman,
Flash, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, and Hercules. Can you name
them? Who's your favorite?
Superheroes are fun. We played superheroes a lot when I was a kid.
Each person would choose a superhero, and we would make up stories
of daring rescues and fighting bad guys. There is one on this page
who technically isn't a superhero. Hercules is one of the Greek
gods. When I was a kid, there was a cartoon story about him. My mom
made me a belt just like his, with a big H on it. We played
Hercules, too, just like superheroes.
Here's the thing that I want to wonder about that. Do we think about
gods like superheroes? Hercules for the Greeks of Jesus' time,
believed in Hercules like a superhero. He would make daring rescues
of people in trouble. He would fight the bad guys and win. I
sometimes think we think about our God that way, too.
But in Jesus we see someone different. We believe that Jesus is God,
but the most important thing he did was die on the cross. He
suffered like us. God raised him from the dead on Easter. But the
stories about Jesus are still very different than the ones about
Hercules or Superman or any of the superheroes. We need to keep that
in mind, because I think that Jesus came to reveal a different kind
of God than we tend to think about, a God who rescues us in
different ways than the superheroes. I'd like to talk about that
some more with everyone.
Sermon
Today, we begin an epiphany theme on healing. Healing has always
been bound up with religion. Even with modern medicine, which is
largely a secular affair, people of faith will make prayer a part
of their efforts to receive healing. But I'd like to keep in mind
our beginning this morning: when you or I pray for healing is it
for a superhero sort of rescue from our sickness? Or do we in
Jesus see a different sort of God and a different sort of path to
healing. I believe that Jesus in the cross and resurrection shows
us a God who is fundamentally different than the superhero
versions of gods. Superheroes always win the day. They always save
us from our situations of suffering. And they especially never ask
for help. Can you think of a time when Superman needed the help of
the person he was saving? He wouldn't be super if he needed the
help of the rescued.
With the God of Jesus Christ, that isn't quite the case. Yes, as we
shall see in the weeks ahead, he was an amazing healer. Some of his
healing miracles are so startling that we may be tempted to think of
him in terms of a superhero. But in Mark's story of Jesus, after a
fantastic start as a healer, Jesus starts talking a lot about
healing. And the disciples he has called seem to want to see him as
a superhero. So when in the middle of Mark's story, Jesus speaks
numerous times about the Son of Man undergoing suffering and death,
and then in three days rise from the dead, they simply couldn't hear
him. They couldn't imagine that sort of fate for their superhero.
And even worse Jesus started talking about his followers picking up
their crosses and suffering, too. Jesus wasn't coming to rescue them
from all suffering. In fact, in some respects, he was coming to lead
them into more suffering. What was up with that?
Well, we aren't going to be able to answer all our questions this
morning, or solve all the mysteries about the healing we receive
from the God of Jesus Christ. But we can take a few moments to
introduce some themes about healing that we see in the sacrament of
baptism, both through John's baptism of Jesus that we remember
today, but also in our subsequent practice of it that we shared with
Christopher James Barnett today. I have three brief points that we
can elaborate over the coming weeks in reflecting on healing.
One, and this is the bottom line: God's Spirit of love in Jesus
Christ is a different power than the one we humans usually look for
in our gods or superheroes. "You are my Son, the Beloved," says
God's voice to Jesus. It is the same powerful spirit of love that we
are all baptized with, most recently, Christopher James this
morning. And don't get me wrong. We certainly know about this love,
this power that nurtures the best in us. But for us it gets mixed in
with the power that tries to force things. In Jesus Christ, we see
and know God's Spirit of love in its pure form as a power that never
uses force and always makes room for freedom. Which goes a long
ways, I think, to explain the mystery of suffering, because this
kind of love allows the freedom to use the power of force instead of
the power of love. We rely so much on the power of force that we
hardly recognize love as a true power, the truest power. But St.
John begins his Gospel by restating the first several verses of
Genesis, which we read this morning, so that we know that this power
we see and experience in Jesus, the word made flesh, is the power
behind life itself.
So number two: in baptism we see not just a cleansing, a washing,
but also drowning, a dying and rising, a suffering of a loss that
leads to gain. And I think that the death we always need to undergo
is precisely this reliance on the power of the superheroes, a
superior firepower that's stronger than the other guy's power of
force. That faith or reliance on the power of force is so ingrained
in us that we need to suffer it as loss. And Jesus teaches his
followers that we will always find his powerful Spirit of love
residing with those who lose out to the powers of force. When human
beings rely on a politics of the powers of force, there are always
losers. And Jesus himself took his place with those losers on the
cross, in order that we might see the true power of love behind life
itself. So our standing with those who suffer, those who are losers
to this world's kind of power, brings a dying and rising to new
life, a participating in the real power of God's love.
So that brings us to point number three: Baptism, the promise of
God's powerful love for our lives, doesn't create or rely on
superheroes in any usual sense. Jesus himself submits to the baptism
of John along with others; he doesn't exceptionalize himself. In
fact, as we just said, Jesus took and takes his place with the
losers to this world's power. You and I, if we are living in our
baptismal promises correctly, appear more as anti-superheroes, the
opposite of superheroes. It is normal, everyday people of faith
people like you and I that Jesus needs to help bring healing to this
hurting world.
I conclude, then, with a story of encouragement for us everyday
Christians. Brian McLaren, in a recent essay, tells this story about
his home congregation, a church not unlike, I think, Prince of
Peace. He writes: (1)
Under the guise of "ministry as
usual," positive things are afoot. I feel it. I believe it. I felt
it a few weeks ago in my home church on a typical Sunday. The
music was good, as usual, and the sermon was thought-provoking and
inspiring, as usual. The prayers were solid and meaningful, as
usual, and the people were warm and welcoming, as usual. What
stood out for me was the family seated next to me, a dad, a mom, a
daughter, and a son whom I didn't recognize. Based on the boy's
movements and the attentions given him by his mother and sister,
the son seemed to have some form of autism, maybe Asperger's
syndrome.
His foot and leg were bouncing almost constantly, calming only
momentarily when his mother gently touched his knee, which she did
every five or ten minutes. Before and after communion, he crossed
himself repeatedly. He sang with more enthusiasm than musical
ability, but if one must choose, enthusiasm's the one to have.
The moment that really touched me came at the offering. He didn't
have money, but when I handed him the basket, he bowed toward it.
At first I thought he was reverencing the basket as if it were an
icon or some other holy thing. But then he leaned forward even
more, placing the basket on his knees and nearly touching his
forehead into the checks, bills, and envelopes inside. His family
didn't intervene, as if this were his normal routine. Then he sat
up again and handed the basket to his mother.
Suddenly, it dawned upon me: he was putting himself in the
offering basket, diving in head-first, if you will. And this must
be what he does every week, his own self-made ritual. And at that
moment, I was awash in a baptism of grace. Yes, there are many
things in our churches that are easy targets for criticism. Yes,
some of our churches and some of our Christianities are part of
the problem. But be careful, as the old parable says (Matthew
13:24-30): if you try to pull up all the weeds, you'll dislodge
some of the wheat too . . . the tender shoots of faith and
devotion growing up in truly important people like that special
boy.
McLaren, who speaks to Christians all around the world concludes: "I
feel it week after week, speaking in congregations across the
country that include people so sincere and bright and ready to go
that you can't care how many or few they are, how rich or poor, how
old or young, or how influential or marginal. You just know that
people like this have what our world needs, that they're part of the
solution. You know that their spark is going to catch fire and
spread, and that what is in them -- faith, hope, love, wisdom,
humility -- can heal what ails us, and will heal it, as long as they
don't lose heart."
Brothers and sisters, let us be fed at our Lord's table once again
this morning that we might not lose heart, that we might leave here
with the healing that this hurting world needs. Amen
Paul J. Nuechterlein
Delivered at Prince of Peace Lutheran,
Portage, MI, January 8, 2012
1. Brian McLaren, "The
Church and the Solution," an essay at www.patheos.com