Baptism as Epiphany – 8 January 2017 – Baptism of Jesus

Hoping to give preachers today a window into how the baptism of Jesus merges heaven and earth, creating our kinship with the Trinity, David Gambrell offered in Homily Service this image for preachers to ponder. 

It is a scene from Shusako Endo’s novel, Silence (New York: Taplinger Pub. Co., 1980 – page 38). Here, in 17th c. Japan where religious persecution is raging, a Portuguese priest and missionary conducts a baptism.  

“It was late at night and we were secretly baptizing a baby that had been brought along by Omatsu and two men belonging to the Tossama. It was our first baptism since coming to Japan, and of course we had no candles nor music in our little hut—the only instrument for the ceremony was a broken little peasants' cup which we used for holy water. But it was more touching than the liturgy of any cathedral to see that poor little hut with the baby crying and Omatsu soothing it while one of the men stood on guard outside. I thrilled with joy as I listened to the solemn voice of Garrpe as he recited the baptismal prayers. This is a happiness that only a missionary priest in a foreign land can relish. As the water flowed over its forehead the baby wrinkled its face and yelled aloud. Its head was tiny; its eyes were narrow, this was already a peasant face that would in time come to resemble that of Mokichi and Ichizo. This child also would grow up like its parents and grandparents to eke out a miserable existence face to face with the black sea in this cramped and desolate land; it, too, would live like a beast, and like a beast it would die. But Christ did not die for the good and beautiful. It is easy enough to die for the good and beautiful; the hard thing is to die for the miserable and corrupt—this is the realization that came home to me acutely at that time.”–– David Patrick Gambrell

Matthew 3:13-17

Both the cosmic and the salvation-historical dimensions are present in the gospel reading. Significantly, Matthew has Jesus come to John and his followers on the banks of the River Jordan. By this literary device, Matthew depicts the adult Jesus joining a story already in progress: the fulfillment of God's promise to Israel. John the Baptist plays a transitional role in this story, standing astride Old Testament promise and New Testament fulfillment. His desert setting, his prophetic style, and his apocalyptic message are all reminiscent of the Old Testament. . . . Though John resists baptizing Jesus, in recognition of his superiority, Jesus makes clear that at this moment they are called to join in obeying God's will (v 15). – Fritz West

Isaiah 42:1-9

The vocation of the servant proclaimed by the prophet is understood by Christians to be referring to Christ Jesus – an altogether different form of ruler.

The servant's revelation of Yahweh's divine justice (mishpat) and steadfast love (vv 3c, 4b) will be a light to the nations (v 6), drawing them all to the one true God. This servant will not have the commanding demeanor of an earthly king, but rather “faithfully bring forth justice” without breaking a reed or raising his voice (vv 2–3). Thus will the old promise to Abraham be fulfilled in a new servant (v 9). – Fritz West

Acts 10:34-43

Just as Abraham became “the father of a multitude” and the suffering servant a light to the nations (Isaiah 42:6), so too does the church embrace the gentile mission. Here one finds the ironic tension, first present in Israel, between the particularity of revelation and the universality of its message. Through the partiality shown to Israel, God revealed impartiality to all. – Fritz West

Fritz West, a liturgical author and retired pastor of the United Church of Christ livin in Minnesota, serves as the Presiding Member of the Association for Reformed & Liturgical Worship Steering Committee.

David Gambrell is Associate for Worship in the Office of Theology and Worship of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).

Homily Service 41, no. 1 (2007): 99-110.

Making Baptism Matter

The previous blog presented material from D. Jay Koyle’s essay in Liturgy on baptism, offering reasons for the decline in importance some churches have placed on this initiatory sacrament.

Many congregations, even denominations, not only wonder what kind of future they have, but whether they have a future at all. As a result, survival strategies are placed at the top of the agenda. Such an emphasis hastens, rather than reverses, decline. Although dying can bring stunning clarity, fear of death blurs vision. . . .

Nervousness about dwindling numbers in plate and pew stokes our reluctance to embrace any practice or policy that could deter even the most casual involvement in our churches. Over time, our anxiety has engendered a membership that is less and less shaped by the mind of Christ. Instead, inclusivity that is unrelated to the way of Jesus has become our guiding principle. The convergence of font and paschal feast in the ancient church that our rites today prompt us to recover may have much to teach us. It does not easily suggest itself, however, to a church for which survival is a dominant motivation. . . .

How might we break our Christendom habits, counter our consumerist presuppositions, overcome the preoccupation with survival, and recognize baptism for what it is and what it can do to unleash a vital and faithful church? . . .

Here are some of Koyle’s ideas for returning to the life-changing meaning of baptism. He holds out the prospect of congregations responding to the future with baptismal promises at the forefront rather than fear of dying.

We might begin this work by prompting Kingdom conversations in every facet of congregational life. If conversation truly is the currency of change, then what we invite people to talk, think, and pray about blazes the path into the future. . . . Therefore, in meetings, study or working groups, and in any devotional time, we should ask questions that differ from the usual fare. Too often, we read a snippet of scripture and then quickly look for how it applies to our lives. Dwell instead on who God is and what God is doing. Ask questions such as:

• What word, image, phrase stands out for you?
• Where is God in or behind this text? What is God/Christ/the Spirit up to in this passage?
• What characteristics of God or God’s reign does this story reveal or suggest to you?
• What promise of God for the world do you hear in this passage?
• Where have you seen or experienced this action or promise of God in your life? In the church/this congregation?
• Is there anything in our worship that this story brings to mind? Anything in other aspects of our congregation’s life?
• Do you see God at work to fulfill this promise in the world today? If so, where? If not, what do you think it would look like if God were doing so?
• How do the affirmations and pledges made in baptism reflect and respond to God’s promises?
• . . . What would it look like if this church lived in expectant anticipation of the promises we have identified?

D. Jay Koyle, is a presbyter serving as Congregational Development Officer for the Diocese of Algoma (Anglican Church of Canada) who also teaches at Huron University College in London, Ontario.

D. Jay Koyle, “The Mistaken Identity of Baptism,” Liturgy 31, no. 2 (2016), 11-19.

What is the Matter with Baptism?

The Spring 2016 issue of Liturgy offers essays on Christian Initiation. D. Jay Koyle’s essay focuses on baptism itself, particularly because the perspective currently held in many of our churches toward this sacrament has been in contention in recent years.  

As Koyle shows, cultural changes have led to baptism being considered in many of our churches a naming ceremony primarily for infants. The theological importance of baptism, however, is about God’s power and the astonishing proclamation of the new reality of God’s Reign.

By nature, baptism is a subversive sacrament that initiates persons into a community God called into being to experience, reveal, signal, and participate in the coming and already-present Kingdom. Yet, far too many see baptism as little more than a sweet ceremony that washes stains from souls and carries them across the ecclesial threshold into the lobby of the household of faith. Beyond that, we act like there is little it can do. As a result, we mistake baptism as a harmless trickle of water when it is a waterfall of eschatological proportions. Why does the church perpetuate this case of mistaken identity and what can be done about it? . . .

In order to understand what can be done, we have to know how we arrived at this place. Koyle says the church has, over time, adopted a utilitarian perspective on a sacrament that had for centuries been a much richer sign of initiation by God into the church.

In Christendom, baptism had come to function largely as a pastoral rite, a ceremony tied to the human life cycle, even if confessional statements claimed otherwise. Rubrics pressed parents to bring their newborns to pass through the waters of the font as soon as possible after those infants had passed through the waters of the womb. In my own Anglican tradition, the rite’s placement in the prayer book was located with the pastoral offices tied to the stages of life (marriage, visitation of the sick, burial). This notion of baptism became even stronger when transplanted to the domain of private life. . . . [continuing] . . . to regard the infant as the normative candidate and to treat baptism as a family ceremony at least as much as an ecclesial one, scheduled to serve the convenience of the family calendar. Indeed, a recent informal survey of church websites revealed that most congregations speak of baptism in these terms, emphasizing the meaning of baptism as “joining the church family” and asking God’s blessing upon the newborn candidates and their families.

Along with other secular institutions, the church has become infested with the notion that people are primarily “consumers” for whom services are to be performed at their convenience and according to their understanding.

The consumerist bias ensures that the usual starting point for many congregations that aspire to revitalization and growth is, “How can we make ourselves more attractive? How can we make the Gospel relevant to people today?” That these questions come to our minds and trip off our tongues so readily is understandable. Our market share is shrinking, after all; we see fewer people displaying an interest in joining with us in sacrament and song on Sundays. . . .
 Though well-meaning, it may be that our faith communities are barking up the wrong tree. What if the issue at hand is not how to make the Gospel relevant for the culture? . . .  The late liturgical theologian Alexander Schmemann. . . surveyed efforts to spark renewal and growth, and he found himself shaking his head at strategies designed to render the church more attractive and relevant. He observed as early as 1968 that the problem facing us today is not that the Gospel has become irrelevant to the society. He noted that the Gospel has always been “foolishness to the Greeks.” No, the problem is not that the Gospel has become irrelevant to the society, but rather that the Kingdom has become irrelevant to the church.

Koyle has ideas about re-enlivening the church’s relationship with the sacrament of baptism. Please see the posting here in two weeks, on April 22 for more.

D. Jay Koyle, is a presbyter serving as Congregational Development Officer for the Diocese of Algoma (Anglican Church of Canada) who also teaches at Huron University College in London, Ontario. 

D. Jay Koyle, “The Mistaken Identity of Baptism,” Liturgy 31, no. 2 (2016), 11-19.

Earth’s Water and Baptismal Implications

Again, as with our posting on March 3, we take from Liturgy 31, no. 2 (2016) some of Peter McGrail’s essay on environmental issues related to Christian Initiation. McGrail’s essay deals with Pope Francis’s encyclical Laudato Si’ on the environment. Here is his analysis of how water, jeopardized by environmental degradation, may be seen through the lens of the incarnation.

As soon as we draw on Pope Francis’ consideration of water, that element’s potential symbolic ambiguity becomes evident. His primary concern is access to fresh drinking water, which he underscores as “a basic and universal human right, since it is essential to human survival and, as such, is a condition for the exercise of other human rights. Our world has a grave social debt towards the poor who lack access to drinking water because they are denied the right to a life consistent to their unalienable dignity” (no. 30). The use and misuse of water serves as a potent reality that points up global inequality. . . 

 This reality of exclusion contrasts with the lavish exuberance with which the gift of water is celebrated in the Easter Vigil. For example, the fifth reading opens with the cry of invitation, “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters” (Is 55:1, NRSV) and closes with the comparison of the efficaciousness of God’s life-giving word to the life-giving winter rain and snow (Is 55:10–11). Water is portrayed here as a freely given gift from the heavens that satisfies a thirsty humanity and brings fruitfulness to creation. So lavish, so fruitful is it that it serves as an image for God’s word, God’s very will. 

 In the light of Laudato Si’, we are invited to ask what it might mean to proclaim those words in a location of desertification or to hear them as a member of a community with little or no access to clean drinking water. The words may, indeed, express profound hope in such contexts, but perhaps they do so precisely because they also tie into anxieties, evoke painful memories, and reflect present realities. The ambiguities of a symbol soiled by human activity interact subversively with the liturgical proclamation of a scriptural passage such as this. And the tensions thus set up have the potential to generate dissonance on the lips of assemblies in a more affluent part of the world. . . Thus, one of the most joyous sections of the Easter Vigil can plunge us into a discomforting recognition of the meanings that our core symbol of baptism can hold in tension. 

 What, then, does this say to us of baptism itself? Surely there must be more going on here at the level of sign than just an immersion into a compromised symbol of pollution. . . . 

McGrail calls for a careful reading of the Pope’s concern for Earth’s gifts so that we appropriately locate the incarnation of Christ in the midst of both sacraments and creation. We benefit from knowing more deeply the key relationship of the paschal mystery to God-with-us in this finite world and its fulfillment eschatologically.

The renewal of humanity, and indeed the transformation of the whole of creation, is caught up in the dynamism of Christ’s own victory over death and the captivity of the material world to decay and destruction. Baptism is a plunging into Christ’s paschal mystery by which women and men “die with him, are buried with him, and rise with him” (Sacrosanctum Concilium 6). In celebrating baptism, therefore, we are indeed and necessarily acknowledging the extent to which the material world is caught up in systems of death, but are also proclaiming and celebrating union with Christ in his transforming death and resurrection.

Peter McGrail is a priest of the Liverpool Roman Catholic Archdiocese and is head of the Department of Theology, Philosophy, and Religious Studies at Liverpool Hope University, UK.

Peter McGrail, “Initiation and Ecology: Becoming a Christian in the Light of Laudato Si’,” Liturgy 31, no. 2 (2016), 55-62.