A Reflection for I Epiphany (Baptism of Jesus) All Saints’ Church, Southern Shores, N C
January 12, 2014 Thomas E. Wilson,
Rector
Let’s start off with taking a look at the symbol of
water. In literature water is a symbol of change. In affluent cultures like
ours, water is a symbol of cleansing and peace, but it has to be respected for,
as many of us on the shore and those who live by rivers know, water is a symbol
of the possibility of destruction. Being submersed in the water is dangerous
stuff. In desert countries like around the Jordan River water is a symbol of
life, but if there is a lot of water it can also mean danger because desert
people don’t know how to swim. Being submersed in the water is dangerous stuff.
Water is a symbol of the beginning of all creation and birth for the baby is
born when the water breaks and enters the river of life. How safe it was in the
womb but we stretch out and go into the wonder and the danger of the unknown
life. Being submersed in the water is dangerous stuff. In dreams water is a
symbol of the unconscious, the unknown country, the deep current which flows
underneath everything we do, and it takes courage to enter that unknown water. In
our dreams when we go deep into the shadows where both our hidden angels and
suppressed demons swim, being submerged in the water is both wonderful and dangerous
stuff.
The Gospel story for today has a discussion between
John the Baptizer and Jesus about entering the water of the Jordan. The Jordan
was the boundary of the Land of Promise and people came to John at the River of
God to wash the past away and enter anew. Jesus comes and when they meet, it is
a moment which will change both lives. It
involves new life, leaving the old behind; it involves dying to the past and being
born into a new existence; it involves a promise of peace and destruction. Then John takes Jesus into the Jordan and Jesus is
submerged in the deep water coming up to hear God say, “This is my beloved son
in whom I am well pleased.” Being submerged in the river of God is both
wonderful and dangerous stuff. He realizes that he is on a special mission in
life and at the same time he is driven into the wilderness by that experience.
If he had not had this experience, the chances are that he would have led a
long life in Galilee, but he begins the road to his death. Being submerged in
the river is dangerous stuff indeed.
One of the problems, and also advantages, of reading
the Bible with you using the weekly lectionary cycles is that this is the 10th
time I have spoken of the Baptism of Jesus to you. It means that I keep seeing
the story in different ways because, as Heraclites suggested, “No one ever steps in the same river twice, for
it's not the same river and he or she is not the same person.” You, the church,
the world, and I are different than we were 10+ years ago.
This last week I got a letter from a longtime friend
and former parishioner of mine. It was her second letter to me. She had written
me last year to ask if I would write to her son who I knew as a child in a
previous church 25 + years ago. I was fond of Nicholas. He was bright and would
ask deep questions in Christian Education, and he enjoyed coming to church and
being an acolyte. He enjoyed living close to the James River, and he would
laugh every time at a baptism when I would suggest that, if we were serious
about our baptisms, we ought to gather by the river and submerge ourselves and
the newly baptized. The little old ladies, male and female of all ages, would
roll their eyes, for being submerged in the James River would be a muddy
experience, the water would be filthy and, in flood seasons, the river’s
current could be dangerous stuff.
I left that church when Nicholas was about 14, and he
went into the deeper waters of his faith, taking the Gospel seriously. When he
finished school he went off to join a religious commune, got married and had
five children. By a river in Tennessee, Nicholas lived a very simple life
farming, with no electricity, no phone, no luxuries, staying close to nature;
in some ways, his faith allowed him to
embrace the simplicity of both Jesus and John the Baptizer. I wrote to him and told
him how proud I was of him for having a life in which he was able to love and
make the world a better place. His mother said he would probably want to talk
theology with me, but it was my belief he didn’t need to talk theology, as he
was living it. In my theology, being united with God by loving others and
making the world a better place is all you need to do. I did not receive an
answer to my letter. This last Monday I found out why. His mother wrote that, one day after all the
children had done their chores, he took the five children with him in a canoe on
the river. On the way back, the tired family’s canoe hit a submerged tree, and
my friend and two of his children were swept away from the overturned canoe.
Three of the children survived. Being submerged in the river is dangerous
stuff
.
If he had not taken that turn in his life of choosing
to live by that river, he might still be alive. If – if –if - he had lived his life safely by the banks of
the James and never gone deeper into the waters of faith; but if he had not taken
that turn, he might not have truly lived. I was saddened by his death and not
being able to continue our discussion in this life. I am comforted by two thoughts: (1) the knowledge
that, in God’s economy, nothing is ever lost and we will all be united again
after this vale of tears is over, and (2) the assurance that his too, too short
life was meaningful. We do not know the number of our days; we can only greet
each day by loving God and neighbor and working to make the world a better
place. Nicholas lived fully.
Last Sunday morning, a day before I got the second
letter from his mother, I had a dream in which St. Joseph appeared, and I told
the congregation that I would tell them about the dream because I knew it would
fit the lesson of the Baptism of Jesus for today. Before I got the letter the
sermon was taking shape in my mind as a “Come on in the water is fine” as a way
to make a deeper commitment in tune with our annual Parish meeting held between
the services. However, the events of life call me to see another level of
meaning of the dream in a different way.
In the dream I am in a church where I live in a
Rectory between the Sanctuary and Parish House. However, in this dream, they
are all connected to each other. On a Sunday morning I have to get ready for
the service and I go, half-dressed, to the bathroom to get ready. There are two
reasons to get ready - (1) to get rid of the past and (2) make myself ready for
the present. After the dream, upon reflection, I understood that these are symbols
of the two competing and sometimes complementary definitions of Baptism - (1)
to be cleansed from sin and to die to the old life and (2) to go through the
water of new life into a new birth.
However, in the dream, the door to the bathroom is
boarded up. I go through the other parts of the house and the Sanctuary and the
Parish House, but all the doors were boarded. I encountered lots of blocked
passages, and finally I was able to get to the outside of the building where
there are steps being worked on by St. Joseph. The steps are unfinished, but he
offers to help me up the half-finished steps. I tell him that I can do it
myself and I start climbing on my hands and knees up the stairs. I come to a
place where I see the steps look like bricks, but I see wave movement in the
bricks. It is not a pool but a river, and being submerged in the river is
dangerous stuff. I am aware that if I put my weight on it, I will plunge into
the water and, while I am a good swimmer, I am afraid of being immersed in this
water. I try to climb out of the situation, but my hand goes through the water.
Joseph is holding his hand out to me, but I am afraid that if I reach for it, I
will fall. I wake up.
When I woke up, I reflected that I was afraid
because I did not want to change, to go deeper into the unknown, for being
submerged in the river is dangerous stuff. In the dream I did not want to ask
for help; I wanted to do it all by myself, yet Jesus asked for help from John.
As foolish as I was looking half dressed, I lacked the humility to divest my
pride to hear the words of love which I had not earned but was graciously
given. If God said that I was a beloved child, where might the river of God’s
love take me? - for being submerged in the river of God is dangerous stuff.
If the dream is a gift from the core of life for
health and wholeness, which I believe, then my dream is an invitation to go
beyond my anxiety by diving into, and swimming in, the unknown waters. If this
were your dream, then where is your river, what is waiting for you, what is
keeping you?
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