This is not bragging. I can take a metaphor and develop it until it stops twitching. What was pouring out of the sky this week, combined with baptismal water symbolism today, was a grist bonanza for my metaphor mill. As my one-day prayer retreat stretched into three, everywhere I looked there was a deeper meaning of water in baptism. As I played with ideas about not being able to grab water, water from the sky was turning solid and pulling down the trees. As trees crashed, I wondered about living water and Jesus’ baptism. This is Luke, so Jesus is seen as our model for faith in a life-long process, not just as our Savior in a one-shot deal. If you have ever been baptized, or are considering confirming your baptism in June, you will want to pay attention to today’s sermon.

In Luke’s version of Jesus’ baptism, we don’t actually see Jesus getting wet, nor are we positive that John the Baptist does the job, but in a reprise of the Old Testament lesson, we hear a disembodied heavenly Voice naming and claiming Jesus. Jesus’ last speaking part had been as temple whiz-kid, which Luke concludes by saying this is a human kid who grows. In fact, all through Luke’s gospel, Jesus grows and becomes more aware of the implications of what we readers have known all along—that he is both human and divine. The Holy Spirit gets a lot of action in Luke’s story, cast as agent-for-growth, in both Jesus and us. First thing to learn from Jesus’ baptism: if we’re going to try to be like him (which is what we promise with our baptismal vows), we are going to have to be growing and transforming—all our lives.

In his baptism, Jesus’ example shows that faith is a process, more like a spiritual progression that reflects the human growth pattern. His baptism is where we get our baptismal language about being children of God. Some of us literally were children, but even if we are adults now, we need to remember that Jesus puts child-ness at the heart of discipleship. He tells his followers to enter the kingdom “as children.” Growing up, I knew my job as a kid was to learn and play. The mystery at the core of our relationship with God is an intimacy which asks us to be both playful and like a sponge for learning, willing to be guided.

So, faith is supposed to be a process, which implies progress or transformation. As childhood implies movement toward maturity, so the faith journey also implies a maturing. As a human, Jesus did not fall into the manger as a grown up. Since he’s our faith model, it is helpful to see what happens to him after his baptism. He first becomes a brother. His siblings are the ones who do God’s will—his disciples, both men and women. For us that translates to faith community—one of mutual support and love for each other, in which we work and learn together in ministry. We were never designed to be Lone Rangers. We are Christians in community—serving, learning and growing. Yes, we need time alone in devotion to grow our relationship with God, and some communities are smaller than others, but we need the accountability and support of corporate worship, covenant groups, Christian education classes, mission community. I did say “classes”—even for grown ups. On Sunday morning or during the week, Christian nurture needs to be intentional, and that means communal as well as alone. Jesus didn’t live as a hermit. He lived a real life, which gave his ministry credibility. The children here used to think I lived at the church, but once they came to my house and we ate pizza together, we loved each other more intimately. As a body, we can stand to do more food, fun, and fellowship. That is an important part of our faith journey together. Siblings spend time together, let themselves be loved. When Jesus was moving about with the disciples, they were accompanied by people who provided for them. He didn’t just love his disciples. He let them love him. We are good at taking care of each other. Springwater is full of people who call to check on each other, help out with driving and errands and meals in times of crisis. But we are so bad at letting people do that for us. We are much more comfortable helping others. It is not easy to be on the receiving end of the covered dish, or to be the one to receive the phone call offering a ride to church or into town. Friends, it must go both ways. If you are grateful when someone receives the gift of your help, you must graciously receive help. It is one of the ways we grow.

Let’s move on in the human growth metaphor. As Jesus passes on his faith, he figuratively becomes a parent. As we mature in our faith, we become teachers, leaders, parents —the ones who pass on learnings. Elders make promises to nurture the congregation’s faith, and part of their job description as session is to engage in a process of mutual growth. But all Christians can pass on their faith. It’s not hard. We just do what Jesus did. As he lived in relationship with God, he invited others to share that reality. The point is journeying together, and we can all do that—receive God’s gift of journey with.

Remember the first time you realized the little kids thought you were a big kid? Maybe it was at school, or maybe it was when all the cousins got together, and your grandparents gave the treats to you to pass out, because you were the big kid. Didn’t you enjoy that, feel proud? It is good to be the one folks turn to, the one with the expert word of advice. This should be something we aim for in our faith journey. It’s as natural to want to be a mature Christian—someone who passes on the faith—as it is for human children to want to be grown ups. If you are not feeling receptive to God’s work of transformation in your life, it might be time to re-assess your sense of grace. Grace is “unmerited favor,” as in “I have done nothing to deserve this, but God has overwhelmed me with love.” Ask yourself if you have a sense of being forgiven. Do you feel that you need God’s unconditional love?

Mature Christians embrace the need to pass on the faith, but they also seem to embrace their own essential childness. One of the realities of being a child of God is being a member of the family of faith, the Christian community. This is a family that starts with a promise made over water. Strip away the language, and that promise is to try to be like Jesus. What would that promise mean for you today? This is the beginning of a new year, the time when people often make resolutions, trying to turn their lives around—or at least away from the parts of it they find negative. If you were making your baptismal promises again today, what would you change about your life? How would you try to be like Jesus? I have a plaque, given to me at my ordination. It shows a Bible and a motto, “When all else fails, read the instructions.” If you need to go back to the instructions—great! Luke tells us Jesus did that all the time in prayer and study. Try it yourself. Check out the instructions, follow the model. How would you see your life if you knew it was a faith process, one of progression, one in which the journey is the point. It’s not so much about arriving at the destination as it is about traveling with. Friends, receive God’s gift—transforming, growing, progressing in your life. Say “yes” to God.