When Memory Fails
Genesis 1:1-5; Mark 1:4-11
Reverend Anne Benefield
Geneva Presbyterian Church, January 11, 1009
Introduction: The baptism of Jesus is a text read and proclaimed every year. The account from Mark is simple and powerful.
Mark 1:4-11
John the Baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as He was coming up out of the water, He saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Prayer: Heavenly Father, we thank You that through Christ, You have connected us all to Your family and claimed us as Your children. We thank You that our identity is not dependent on our talents and achievements, but is based on being Your beloved children. We thank You that in our baptisms You give us a new vision of life eternal. We open our hearts to Your abiding love.
Amen.
Baptism has undergone some pretty big changes in Georgia due to the multi-year drought, although I am happy to report that they got a nice amount of rain on Monday and Tuesday this past week. With things being so dry in Georgia, the Baptists are starting to baptize by sprinkling, the Methodists are using wet-wipes, the Presbyterians are giving out rain checks, and the Episcopalians, Catholics and Lutherans are praying for wine to turn back into water.
On a more serious note, this sermon is about two things: memories and baptism. Since I’ve told you a story about baptism, memory deserves equal time. An older couple was having dinner together at one of their homes. After the meal, the women went into the kitchen and the men moved to the living room. One man said, “Last night we went out to a new restaurant, and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly.”
The other man said, “What’s the name of the restaurant?”
The first man knit his brow in obvious concentration, and finally said, “Ahhh, what is the name of that red flower you give to someone you love?”
His friend replied, “A carnation?”
“No, no. The other one.”
“A poppy?”
“Nahhh, you know the one that is red and has thorns.”
“Do you mean a rose?”
“Yes, yes, that’s it. Thank you!”
Then he turned toward the kitchen and yelled, “Rose, what’s the name of that restaurant we went to last night?”
The term “senior moment” has become so popular in explaining our memory lapses that my 13-year-old son, Johnny, said he was having a senior moment the other day when I asked him what homework he had.
Back to the topic of memory and baptism. Today we remember the baptism of Jesus. What meaning do we attached to Jesus’ baptism?
Meaning shapes memory. We remember things in our lives based on the meaning we attach to them. For example, a bride says that her wedding day was the happiest day of her life. In fact, it was incredibly stressful, but the meaning of marriage turns it into a happy memory.
A man says that the birth of his first child was a joy. Truth is, it was absolutely misery to watch his wife suffer through labor, but the meaning of childbirth makes the memory a positive one.
A teenager says that her rejection by a boyfriend was the most crushing blow of her life. In fact, she felt a bit relieved and bounced back quickly, but the meaning of romance makes the breakup a very painful memory.
An adult convert to Christianity says that his baptism was wonderful. The reality is that it was wet, cold, and uncomfortable, but the meaning of the sacrament makes it deeply moving to him.
Meaning shapes memory. The meaning we attach to Jesus’ baptism makes our own baptisms important. In baptism three things happen: First, we are connected to the body of Christ, the flesh and blood physical presence of Jesus in the world today. Second, in baptism we are identified as God’s children. We are blessed and beloved by God. Third, in baptism we gain perspective, we get a long view of what’s important.
In baptism we are connected to the body of Christ. This isn’t a temporary connection, this is a permanent connection. It doesn’t wash off. Our baptism in Christ lasts forever. We are never alone even in our worst, most frightening times.
Whenever Martin Luther found himself ready to give up, he would touch his forehead and say to himself: “Remember, Martin, you have been baptized.”
In baptism we are connected to the whole body of Christ, to all Christians in all times and all places.
The first time I had to speak in public was when I was in fourth grade. The elementary school I attended was part of the college down the street from my house. I think I was a shepherd in the college’s presentation of “Amahl and the Night Visitors.”
I was pretty nervous—scared, really—about getting up in front of everyone. My father took me aside and explained to me: “Honey, when you get up to speak, everyone in the room wants it to go well. Everyone wants you to be your best because they share your success. They feel good when you do well.”
He was explaining to me that there is an energy in a room or sanctuary that is positive. The same energy connects all the followers of Jesus. He has promised never to leave us alone and He gives us both the Holy Spirit and the each other. Baptism seals our connection.
The second thing that happens in baptism is that we are identified as children of God. We are sisters and brothers of Jesus. Can you imagine that? We are related to God, children of God.
Presbyterian Pastor, Reverend Tim Boggess tells this story:
A mother was home with her two young daughters one lazy afternoon. Everything seemed to be just fine until the mother realized something strange. The house was quiet. And as every parent knows, a quiet house in the daytime can only mean one thing: The kids are up to no good.
Quietly walking into each of the girls’ rooms and not finding them there, she began to get worried. Then she heard it: The sound of whispering followed by the flushing of a toilet. Following the sound, she soon realized where it was coming from. It was coming from her bathroom. Whispers, flush. Whispers, flush. Whispers, flush. Poking her head into the room, she was able to see both of her daughters standing over the commode. Whispers, flush. One of them was holding a dripping Barbie doll by the ankles and the other one had her finger on the handle. Whispers, flush. Wanting to hear what her daughter was saying, she slipped quietly into the room. Whispers, flush. And this is what she heard: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and in the hole you go.” Flush.
Reverend Boggess goes on to say,
“This is a true story. But you already knew that, didn’t you? You knew this was a true story because it’s your story, it’s my story, it’s our story. We know it’s true because we know what it feels like to have life grab us by the ankles and dangle us over the waters of chaos. And we know that this happens in spite of our faith. We even know that at times it happens precisely because of our faith.” [The Reverend Time Boggess, “In the Hole He Goes,” January 11, 2009, Day One Ministries]
No matter what we are facing, our identity isn’t based on our own abilities or the world’s assessment of us. Our identity is based on our relationship to God through Jesus Christ. That relationship affects us on the inside and becomes visible on the outside over time.
When I first came to Geneva, I was struck by how many attractive older women there are here. I thought they must have been strikingly beautiful as young women. When we had our 40th anniversary, I got to see pictures of our lovely women. They were all attractive, still I realized that they had grown more beautiful over the years from the inside out. The love of Christ lives in them and flows through them. That’s why they are beautiful.
The final thing that our baptism in Christ brings is perspective, an ability to see things in the long run. I read with sadness that a German tycoon named Adolf Merckle committed suicide on Monday. He was the 94th richest person in the world and the 5th wealthiest in Germany, but he despaired over the huge losses his business suffered during the financial crisis.
What a tragedy! He had been so successful, but a statement from his family explained what happened:
“The desperate situation of his companies caused by the financial crisis, the uncertainties of the last few weeks and his powerlessness to act, have broken the passionate family entrepreneur and he took his own life.” [Markus Nagle, “German tycoon Adolf Merckle Commits Suicide,” Reuters, Tuesday, January 6, 2009]
We are more than the money we earn. We are more than our physical prowess. We are more than our brains and IQ. We are children of God and knowing that gives us a good barometer for understanding today and tomorrow.
On the inside cover of his book of stories, Fred B. Craddock speaks this truth simply and eloquently:
“When I was in my late teens, I wanted to be a preacher. When I was in my late twenties, I wanted to be a good preacher. Now that I am older, I want more than anything else to be a Christian. To live simply, to love generously, to speak truthfully, to serve faithfully, and leave everything else to God.”
That’s what our baptism means: we do our best and gratefully leave everything else to God. Amen.
