January 9, 2005: Baptism: It Takes More Than Water
Eileen Parfrey, Springwater Presbyterian Church
Matthew 3:13-17, Isaiah 42:1-9, Psalm 29

"The respiration of trees." At first, I thought it was a throw-away line, but it stuck like peanut butter to the roof of my mouth. Sometimes when a person's hands are busy, the wordless part of the brain makes a person pay attention to something that might otherwise get overlooked. Like the rest in a bar of music, drawing attention to the next notes. Because my hands and eyes had the front of my brain occupied, I had room to realize that "the respiration of trees" was more than a throw-away. I was at Namaste, my spiritual formation class, saying with paper and glue what my relationship to God was like. One of my classmates interpreted something I'd said as like the respiration of trees, and suddenly I got it.

Today's scripture reminds me of the respiration of trees. The question we all bring to scripture is, "So what?" As in, what does this have to do with me in the here-and-now? Today we ask, "so what?" that Jesus was baptized. "So what?" that his baptism fulfilled righteousness. "So what?" that Isaiah talked about a servant king. "So what?" that the Messiah Israel hoped for would be gentle and not a military giant. "So what?" that God's presence causes the biggest trees in the world to explode in dance?

Like the respiration of trees, it takes more than water to accomplish baptism-our baptism as well as Jesus' baptism. Water isn't enough. Even for Jesus. John the Baptist warned that the One coming after him would be a fire baptizer, because he knew water isn't enough. The One after him would cause the heavens to crack open, a sure sign that it takes more than water to fulfill righteousness. The consequence of Jesus' baptism was something tangible, a "thing" seen as well as heard, a Voice crying out, "This is my Son!" To this very day, we believe that when we are baptized, we are named and claimed as we pass through the waters, and then we stake our lives on this understanding.

This is where the respiration of trees comes in. I'm no forester, but it's my understanding that all trees need at least some water. But no matter how water-efficient they are, all trees need more than water. Sunlight, for one thing. Trees are efficient sunlight-conversion machines, using sunlight's fuel to turn their raw materials (dirt and air and energy from the sun) into wood and bark and leaves and seeds. That is the "respiration" of trees, their "activity," but they need to stay put to do this. Rooted-ness of trees is a necessary condition for growth. Psalm 29 (and Lord of the Rings) notwithstanding, trees do not walk.

Rooted-ness is so Benedictine. When St Benedict formed the Church's most successful monastic model, he placed at its very heart stability of community. Rather than wandering-aimlessly or not-moving from one location to another, one interest group to the next, with no home-base, Benedictines promise to stay put. They invest their own personal faith growth, the effectiveness of their discipleship, on the stability of the faith community out of which they serve. God does the rest.

Springwater is the faith community out of which we serve. Church congregation experts say that the long-term stability of pastor-congregation relationship is one of the best predictors of a congregation's growth in mission effectiveness. Some experts go so far as to give numbers, saying that trust doesn't develop until the pastor has been there at least three years, that missional risk-taking doesn't begin until the pastor has been there at least five years, and the effects of that aren't visible until seven to ten years into the relationship. Both individuals and faith communities need stability. Like the respiration of trees, it takes more than water to grow. Growth requires the stability of rooted-ness, raw materials, and the fuel of sunlight. And you can spell that "s-u-n" or "s-o-n."

Biologists tell us that when an organism stops growing it is dead. When a church community stops growing it might as well be dead. Doing the same thing is not always doing the right thing. Growing involves taking risks, which means there is a chance of failure, a definite possibility of change. Which is why stable relationships within the community are absolutely necessary. Do you remember what Jesus did after his baptism in all four gospels? He put himself in harm's way. He went (or was driven) out into the wilderness to wrestle with temptation for 40 days. His wrestling challenged everything about what he thought God's mission for him was, who he was in relation to God, who he was in relation to the world. And after that, he went about living into God's mission for him. Water isn't enough.

Everything we do as Christians is in the context of our baptismal vows, but it takes more than water to be a Christian. Maybe none of us expects the heavens to crack open when the water pours over a person's head. But on the other hand, none of us expects life to be the same after baptism. At least we hope it's not. We're staking our lives on things not being the same. What happened at Jesus' baptism happens at ours. We are named as God's child, we are claimed as a family member, and given our job.

And then, so what? What does it mean for us today? Four tons of food to the Resource Center in 2004. So what? Making a financial pledge to Springwater. So what? Promising to volunteer time and talent. So what? Someone will clean the church eventually. Someone will go downstairs during worship to take care of the babies. Cookies will show up, coffee get made fellowship time. Sunday School will happen. Cards get sent, people greeted, bulletins happen. Session will meet and talk and talk. Someone will do it. So what? A congregation in Cuba writes to us. People call the church because they can't pay their electric bills. So what? All they need is money. Sunday School is for kids, fun/study/worship together is for the youth. So what? I already come to church several times a month. So what?

It takes more than water, friends. Water isn't enough to live into our baptism. In one of the great paradoxes of faith, it's all grace. It's all about God cracking open the heavens and embracing us and claiming us and calling us beloved. But-and this really is a "big but"-but we are the ones who do the living into. And those promises-even God's promise to call us beloved-those promises have gotta be lived into or our baptisms are no more important than when we have clean hands before a meal. It takes more than water to be a Christian. It takes commitment. It takes discipleship and discipline and work and fun and showing up for God. Praying. Listening. Opening your self to scripture, asking "so what?" for you in particular. Searching for the implication of what it means to follow Jesus. Even if it means changing how you spend your time. Or how you spend your money. Or who you spend it with. Or what you do first and who gets your love first. Commitment. Giving yourself away. Trying in everything to live the way Jesus lived, to love the way Jesus loved, to be interested in what Jesus is interested in. This, of course, presupposes that you know what Jesus is interested in. But you get my drift. Maybe you think it has never happened to you. Maybe it has never occurred to you that the heavens have cracked open and the Voice of God has boomed out saying, "This is my beloved!" It is already done. God has already claimed you. But it takes more than water to live into that. It takes you and it takes living. Say yes.