Visibly with Jesus: Thinking about Baptism ~ Romans 6:1-14

 

There’s an old story about the baptism of King Aengus by St. Patrick in the middle of the fifth century. Sometime during the rite, St. Patrick leaned on his staff and unknowingly stabbed the king’s foot. After the baptism was over, St. Patrick looked down, saw the blood, and realized what he had done. He begged the king’s forgiveness and asked “Why did you suffer this pain in silence?” The king replied, “I thought it was part of the ritual.”

 

 Over the centuries there have been a lot of painful questions about the rite of Christian baptism. The Church has argued over what it accomplishes, to whom it should be given, and even how much water should be used. In the Covenant, we emphasize unity over uniformity and recognize that many authentic followers of Jesus are baptized by immersion, and other genuine disciples are sprinkled with water. Some lovely Christians are baptized as adults and other faithful saints as infants. So we accept both. But in all cases, the meaning of baptism is the same. It’s about participating in, and receiving, an ancient gospel pattern, beginning in Genesis, through the Exodus, a few Psalms, with prophets like Jonah, and ultimately culminating with Jesus, of God going before us through the chaotic waters of death, slavery, and sin, in order to liberate us and receive us on the other side into a new creation.

Augustine referred to the sacrament of baptism as a “visible word,” an outward sign of an invisible grace. It’s the recognition that spirituality always involves both inner and outward realities, opened to all the senses, as a gift from God. When parents hug and kiss their children, those visible realities express the invisible reality of love. We can’t actually see the love those things wish to express, but we can see their affects. You get that, right? It’s why love needs a wedding and rings are exchanged. It’s why birthdays have cake and gifts, and discontent will march in the streets rather than only quietly complain. Similarly, baptism is a physical expression of the miraculous and transforming reality of the gospel; it’s a grace-filled mini-drama that reveals that our salvation is found by being united with Jesus in his death, burial, and resurrection. It’s the outward sign that the love of God in Jesus Christ graciously precedes us into death, liberates us from sin, and welcomes us to new life.

Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, gets straight to the point: “don’t you know that all of us who were baptized with Christ Jesus, were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death . . .” (Rom 6:3-4a).

There it is: to be baptized is to die – but it is a certain kind of death: it is to die with Jesus. And it is a certain kind of funeral: it is to be buried with him. And if that’s true, it means that in baptism our deaths are now behind us. So we are released from our obsession with death, our fear of death, our denial of death, all of which speaks of our enslavement to death – from which baptism frees us. For not only is death now behind us, but life is now ahead of us. But again, a very specific kind of life: it is life with Christ, because of Christ, in order to live like Christ. For as Paul continues: “We were buried with him though baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from death through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.”

The French writer Henri Barbusse (1874-1935) tells of a conversation overheard in a trench full of wounded men during the First World War. One of the men, who knew he only had minutes to live says to another: “Listen, Dominic, you’ve led a very bad life. Everywhere you are wanted by the police. But there are no convictions against me. My name is clear. So here, take my wallet, take my papers, my identity, take my good name, my life and quickly, hand me your papers that I may carry all your crimes away with me in death.” Friends, that’s what the gospel does and what baptism visibly expresses: through uniting with Jesus in his death, your sin is buried with him and you are given access to a new life. 

 

We are all going to die. One day William is going to die too. But today we proclaim a gospel fact, William’s death is now behind him and the life of Christ – a new life of love, joy, and peace – is his future, and indeed is there now for the taking – or rather the receiving – through his union with Jesus. And like William, even if you’re an adult with a theology degree, you can’t earn this union, don’t deserve it, and, heck, won’t fully understand it. And as he gets older, he will wrestle with a choice that was made for him when his parents gave him to these waters and into the arms of Jesus. And if you haven’t surrender your death and life to Jesus, I want to invite you to do that – receive new life and express that reality through baptism. And if you have accepted the gospel but haven’t been baptized, that one-of-kind, scary, amazing, and mysterious miracle needs a physical expression, an outward sign, a visible word: like love needs a hug and a kiss, birthdays need a cake and gifts, and marriage an exchange of rings. We need a tattoo of love, etched on to our bodies, that beautifully proclaims what this mysterious act of baptism dramatically illustrates: “neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Friends, be baptized, visibly, fully, mysteriously, with Him into that. Amen.

Remember your baptism – that you are united with Jesus, have died and are now liberated from sin – remember that it is a gift and that you are “under grace.”