A sermon preached in one way at the baptism of Michael, Ariana and Benaiah at St Mary's; preached as invitation to consider what it is to be baptised at Christ Church.
In part inspired by Esi Edugyan's magnificent novel Washington Black: lyrical and compelling exploration of the nature of freedom in the face of brutality and beauty; meditating on the capacity of the human heart, to harm and to heal.
The readings were: Isaiah 58.9b-end; Psalm 103.1-8; Hebrews 12.18-end; Luke 13.10-17
Today we welcome three new members of the church, the body of Christ.
We welcome them with joy and thanksgiving.
We welcome them into freedom; into life; into relationship.
Today is the beginning of a journey and an opportunity for us to ponder our baptism - not as past event but as present identity and future hope.
The story of our lives is woven into God’s story.
As human beings we’re hardwired to respond to stories.
It’s why we get addicted to soaps or spend hours with our head in a good book.
From the most popular west-end show to the latest Hollywood blockbuster; from the bedtime stories we tell our children to the lyrics of our favourite album we love to get lost in a good story.
Sorry telling isn’t the preserve of the professionals: we do it every day.
When we meet up with friends of colleagues; when we gather to celebrate or grieve; when we logon to Facebook or tell a joke; and over refreshments after this service, we tell stories.
Words and expressions hold our interest; connections are made between; and we look forward to a satisfying ending!
One story which has captivated and challenge me recently is the novel Washington Black by Esi Edugyan. She’s a masterful storyteller - full of strength, beauty, courage and creativity.
She takes us from the heat of the sugar cane plantations to the dazzling frozen wastelands of the Arctic; through the muddy streets of London to the Moroccan desert. Inspired by a true story, this tale of liberation rests on taking a risk.
The risk of stepping into the new-fangled cloud-cutter: what we’d recognise as a hot air balloon.
This story of freedom, identity, empowerment and being fully human is also a quest to make the world more whole.
Early on young Washington, or Wash as he’s known, asks: ‘What does it feel like, Kit? Free?’
She gathers him close, her hot breath at his ear, saying: ‘Oh, child, it like nothing in this world. When you free, you can do anything.’
By the end, Wash is a scientific explorer and an artist; no longer slave or assistant but accomplished in his own right. The urge to draw gave him a sense of peace and calm. He says, ‘At the easel I was a man in full, his hours his own, his preoccupations his own’.
Freedom.
Peace.
Fullness of life.
These are the things of God’s story.
These things are good news.
The life stories of those baptised today will unfold as they discover their gifts and skills; they will forge deep connections with family and the friends they’ve yet to meet.
Today we commit ourselves to pray for them and to encourage them; to show by our example how to live fully as members of one body; to seek, with them, the things that make for peace.
We began with Isaiah reminding the people of God of the purpose of the Sabbath.
Living in Hendon, we glimpse something of the gift and command of Shabbat as our Jewish bothers and sisters cease from their routine pattern of work and actives when control or pressurise us.
The pace of life visibly changes; life in all its fullness is rediscovered.
For Isaiah, the discipline and rhythm of Sabbath also teaches us that our neighbour is not a burden. Our neighbours are our community. There is freedom in the gift of Sabbath; their is life in its command.
Remove the yoke, the burden.
Stop pointing the figure; speaking of evil.
Offer food. Satisfy the needs of the hungry and afflicted.
This is Sabbath. Here is light shining in the darkness.
Sabbath invites us to set aside our own interests.
Rest, renew your strength; be refreshed by God’s word.
With the Lord as our guide, God’s people rebuild, repair and restore.
The setting aside of a holy day is to be a delight.
But.
As with good gifts, there is always a temptation to subvert it or to turn away. We risk burdening others rather than releasing them from the yoke of oppression. The weakest and powerless suffer most from our collective failures of self-interest.
But.
God keeps calling us back to the heart of God’s own story: of life, of freedom and love.
This is freedom from all that hurts, wounds and burdens us, what in short hand we call sin.
The freedom of this new life has God's love at its heart. It means we can do anything: anything that echoes that love in what we say and think and do.
God speaks of life and freedom and love by the prophets; and God’s word becomes flesh in Jesus.
In our Gospel reading, Luke tells a story of how Jesus revealed the power of God to heal and set free.
Think about the woman at the heart of this story. We don’t know her name; but Jesus sees her.
Imagine the world lived from her perspective: not being able to make eye contact; the narrowness of sight-lines; the frustration and vulnerability; the impact on her social life and household.
She was welcome in the synagogue; she was there to embrace the gift of Shabbat.
Shabbat was the day was a day for healing: for life, liberation and community.
Synagogue was a place for praise: the right place for her burden to be lifted.
Woman, says Jesus, you are set free.
Set free to participate in the community she’s already part of; to embrace fullness of life.
In the face of indignation, Jesus invites his critics to grasp afresh the meaning of the Sabbath: a time to restore human dignity and bring release.
In the face of freedom, the crowd rejoiced at all the wonderful things Jesus did.
Baptism draws us into this story of life and liberation.
Anointed with oil, we tell the story of God’s blessing as they discover their own gifts.
Water is poured out, we tell the story of God’s love from slavery to freedom, from death to life.
Receiving a candle, we tell the story of God’s calling to be light in our world.
As they grow up, these three human beings need the love and support of their parents, godparents and extended family; they need the prayers and encouragement of all of us, Christ’s body in this place; they will need the wisdom of teachers, friends and mentors who they’ve yet to meet.
At every Eucharist, we tell the story of God’s love poured out in creation and the human struggle to set aside self-interest; we tell the story of the prophets crying out for justice and the cries of the vulnerable.
Each week, we tell the story of God’s own Son abiding in flesh of our flesh; teaching, healing and telling stories; giving his life blood that we might live; giving us bread that we might be one body.
At every Eucharist, the cross with which we are marked in baptism, calls us to worship with joy and thanksgiving; and we are sent to continue that story of life and freedom by the power of the Spirit at work in us. In our words and actions.
Welcome.
Here you find freedom, peace and fullness of life.
Make this story your story. Amen.
© Julie Gittoes 2019
