Chosen and Beloved
“Chosen and Beloved”
Baptism of the Lord
January 9, 2011
Isaiah 42:1–9; Psalm 29; Matthew 3:13–17
lmost without failure, when I read a passage of scripture,
or several passages, like these today,
I find myself humming a song, which seems to float up
from the recesses of my mind.
And one of my tasks as a preacher, is to ask why this particular scripture
elicited this particular song, because that might give me some clue
as to how God is speaking to me and to us through these words.
Isaiah's Servant Song, the first of four the voice of the Lord relayed
to the prophet Isaiah while Israel was in exile in Babylon,
contains phrases about God's favored one, like:
my, my, my... servant, chosen, soul's-delight, spirit-recipient,
justice-establisher, light to the nations, eye-opener, prison-springer,
my glory... my, my, my.
And the song that floated to the surface of my mind when I read Isaiah's words
was an old R&B tune produced by Earth, Wind & Fire
called That's the Way of the World.
The song was released in 1975, a long time ago, and became one of the top ten
songs on the billboard charts that year.
Earth, Wind & Fire's song contain phrases about the way of the world like
“old at heart”, “sorrowful days”, and “cold of heart”.
Which is interesting to consider, because when I read this first Servant Song from Isaiah,
or Matthew's narrative of Jesus' baptism by John,
I feel like God is issuing us a “pink slip”, terminating us from the way of the world,
and firing us from it's old, cold grip through baptism.
How so?
My, my, my... how many times does the Lord God have to say it.
In our world where freedom of choice reigns supreme:
where we like to think we can choose things like our neighborhood schools,
or choose our preferred candidates,
or choose the lowest fat ingredients,
or choose the church of our choice,
God issues us a pink slip, and says guess what?
It is I who have chosen you, and not the other way around.
Out of all the other people I could have chosen, I have chosen you. You are mine.
You belong to me, and not to the world. I have taken you by the hand,
and I have kept you. I have covenanted with you, and you are mine.
Our baptism is a sign of this choosing; not our choosing, but God's.
Before a hand is ever dipped in and drawn out of the water,
God has chosen to draw us us out of the way of this world,
in order to belong to God's beloved community.
Our baptism is a confirmation of this honor.
For our confirmands whom we are affirming this morning, I want to make this clear:
God has already chosen you to begin your life and your ministry in this cradle
that we call the church.
God's voice broke the trees that made the ribs of this cradle;
God's voice was the sonic boom that announced your birth;
God's voice called your mother and father to dance like wild little oxen and calves
at your birth or adoption;
God's voice named you “beloved” even before your parents
baptized you by any other name.
No matter where you go from here, God has chosen and claimed you
as God's own beloved cradle child.
Chosen for what? We might ask. I hope we ask that question,
although the answer is not always immediately forthcoming.
The way of the world would say that we choose to be powerful and successful;
that we choose to be first in line at the mall,
when it opens at 11 a.m. on the first Sunday after Christmas;
that we choose to have our heart's desire,
even if it impinges upon someone else's heart's desire;
that we choose to discard fragile people like broken clarinet reeds,
to throw water on the little voices of children, or of minorities, or
of prisoners sitting in darkness like we might douse persky late-burning embers
in a campfire to extinguish them.
In baptism, God issues us a pink-slip to these ways of the world,
and issues us a summons, instead, to a different way of being in the world:
as defenders of justice for the little and least,
as advocates and protectors of the fragile and unloved,
as bold beacons to the nations of quiet, reserved, non-violent strength.
Our baptism is a sign of this choosing:
God's choosing of our primary vocation.
Before a drop of water ever tingles the skin on our scalp, God has chosen for us
this ministry of justice bringing, of right distribution and right order,
of encouraging, and not coercing,
of love for all of God's created, spread-out earth and earthlings.
And, I might add, this is not a calling for sissies.
I'm not even sure that Jesus knew what he was getting into,
when he stepped into the river with his wild cousin John.
But I do think Jesus knew that it was the right thing to do,
and that it was the beginning of a life of service,
not a life of being served (Luke 22:27).
Anyone who has ever stepped into a body of moving water,
which is what baptism originally involved,
knows that it can knock you off your feet, can have its way with you,
and can carry you places you hadn't planned or chosen to go.
It is stepping into a force larger and more powerful than oneself: God-force.
I'm sure that Jesus was aware of this immanent danger and consequence,
but also of this immanent love.
Jesus knew, without a doubt, that his baptism meant that God was with him,
affirming him of divine companionship every step of the way,
by sending a Spirit dove to alight on him.
And yes, there was that booming voice; the sounding and resounding affirmation from God
that God's chosen one is “mine”, that the chosen one belongs to God,
and that God's chosen one is beloved,
before ever being or doing anything to earn or deserve God's love.
Our baptism is a confirmation of this calling and this honor.
Earth, Wind & Fire would say that we are chosen to have hearts of fire,
for the ways of the Lord, and not hearts grown cold.
For what should our hearts have fire? What does the Lord require of us?
To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8)
Included in your bulletin today you will find a bookmark with First Presbyterian's
core values printed on it.
These core values were discerned by our whole congregation, not by a committee,
not by the session, not by the clergy, but by the whole people of God.
They say something of our perceived calling as disciples of Jesus Christ
on the corner of Roxboro and Main.
They say something, but not all, of what we perceive God is calling us to do,
as God's chosen servant people.
Perhaps we should read them together, as we begin a new year of 2011,
to remind ourselves of how we have heard the voice of God speaking to us
through our baptismal calling. Please take out your bookmark
and read with me: