Gospel: Mark 1:4-11
1st Reading: Genesis 1:1-5
2nd Reading: Acts 19:1-7
The formless void stretches out
in front of us as we survey the face of the deep. It is dark—so dark we can barely see our
reflection there on the surface of the water.
We feel for a moment as if we could be below the water, rather than
above it, we could be drawn into that darkness.
That deep chaos calls to us, invites us, coaxes us. It tells us lies about who we are. It lies and tells us we are powerless, that
nothing we do can change the problems of this world, so why even try. It lies and tells us that we don’t matter,
that no one will remember us, that nothing we do will last. It lies and tells us that we are not enough,
that we aren’t influential enough, rich enough, beautiful enough, young enough,
smart enough. It lies and tells us that
we are not important, that we are nobodies.
It keeps us divided from others around us, isolates us by making us
fearful and suspicious of one another.
Sometimes we believe the face of
the deep. Sometimes we try to buy our
way out of the deep void. We try to
prove by the things we surround ourselves with that we are good enough,
important enough, powerful enough to matter.
But we find that we only increase the void and only see our reflection
there more clearly, drawing us in. Sometimes
we try to run away from the suffering, watch happy movies, eat what isn’t good
for us, hide behind a false image of ourselves, but we find that it follows us.
It is so dark. Aside from the last 2 days, the weather is
dark and wet and dreary. The divisions
in our country and our world are so deep and dark. The pollution, the suffering, the hunger, the
illness, the grief—it is so overwhelming and upsetting, sometimes I feel like
I’m being swallowed up by this void.
Sometimes I feel like giving up. Sometimes
I don’t see how I am making any difference.
Do you ever feel this way?
I’ve felt this way many times in
my life and if left to myself, I would surely throw in the towel. Noah
probably felt this way as he floated on the ark with the all the animals and
his small family. He looked out to see
water in every direction, and I’m sure he wondered about the seaworthiness of
his vessel—how long it could hold out.
How long could the food hold out?
How long could the patience of the people and animals hold out? Would this deep chaos swallow them up?
Martin Luther King, Jr. stood up
in the face of the void that would tell him and a whole race of people that
they were nobody. He faced the evil of
racism in every part of our society. He
resisted being drawn into it, or resorting to violence, and he was able to do
that because of his faith. He must have
wondered if the chaos would win the day, especially as he and his family faced
death threats and his house was firebombed with his 10 week old child and wife
inside. We can all feel overwhelmed by
the formless void, the face of the deep, and many of us have good reason to be.
In the midst of this
overwhelming, chaotic, dark, deep, powerful sea, a little breeze picks up. We see a ripple, then a wave, then wave after
wave. Instead of silence, we hear a
far-away rushing sound. We start to hear
the waves against the shore, the splash of the water, the trickling sound that
is like music. The waves become strong
and start to crash against each other.
It is a frightening power. It is
loud, but it is moving.
In the midst of this dark, deep
void, a pinprick of light appears on the horizon. It is small, but it begins to grow. The sky begins to get lighter. The outlines of forms are visible. Trees, plants, people, creation. We are not alone. The light illuminates all that was hidden,
reveals all that was secret. Colors
start to play off the surface of the water.
We reach down and touch what was once so scary, and take a refreshing
drink, splash our face. We feel the cool
water flow through our fingers and our lips, and feel more alive. We immerse first our feet, then our legs in
this water. Then we plunge ourselves
into it. The waters cover us. What was dragging us in, buoys us up and
lovingly surrounds us. We feel it on our
eyes, dripping off our hair, under our feet.
We swim, we play, we float. And
then we burst out of these waters to stand on the shore, washed and new, ready
for life.
In the midst of this void, we
see a bird, a dove, we see the Holy Spirit.
We see the dove fly across the waters, Noah waiting to find out if the
world was fit for human habitation, if the bird would find a place for new life
yet, if humans could begin again. We see
the heavens open and the Holy Spirit, alight on Jesus, a signal for us to know
that this is where and how life can be found.
This is the new life God has been promising out of chaos from the
beginning, to Noah, and Abraham and Sarah, and to the believers and disciples
in Ephesus, and to John the Baptist, and to the saints and Martyrs, and to
Martin Luther King, Jr., and to us.
In the midst of this quiet,
still, sea, we hear a voice. It is a
powerful voice, a comforting voice. We
hear a word. “Light!” We hear a word in our own language, tongues
and prophecies. We communicate, we hear
and understand, and we know we are understood.
Into this quiet we hear a voice, the voice of the one who created us,
spoke us into being, called us forth. We
hear the voice speak the word made flesh, the promise embodied in Jesus. We meet him.
We find we are his sisters and brothers, part of Jesus’ family. We are included in the saving power of his
life, death, and resurrection. We hear
this loving voice name our brother, Jesus, “Beloved Son” and speak words of
praise for him.
But we feel pulled back to the
formless void. How could we ever measure
up? Jesus was very special, and look how
far we are from that kind of perfection.
Why even try? What would he ever
want to do with any of us?
But that word is for us—beloved.
Are we not created by God, God’s good
creation? If we weren’t beloved, would God have tried so hard to help us? It is because God calls us beloved that God
created this beautiful world, that God called light into being, that God
revealed our brokenness and brought us healing.
It is because we are beloved of God, that God sent the Holy Spirit to
help us to connect with each other and with God, and so the most powerlessness
among us would experience the power of God’s love, the only thing that can
transform this chaotic void into the Kingdom of God.
This story is about the baptism
and power of Jesus, his connection with the Father, God. But it was never meant to stop there. We are the body of Christ, together. We were there at the baptism of Christ, as
his body. We were baptized with
him. God says to us, “This is my
precious child, Beloved.”
That deep calls to us, the chaos
calls to us, and we are invited to enter those waters, to move toward what we
are afraid of. But we find we aren’t
alone. When I hear the story of Martin
Luther King, Jr., I am inspired. Here is
a man who faced terrible hatred, but because of his faith, he moved toward
those who hated him and engaged them in conversation. He acted lovingly toward those who wanted to
hurt him and his family and his friends and people who had already suffered so
much. When I hear his story, I feel that
Holy Spirit Power. I know none of us
does the work of justice alone. We have
God leading us through that chaos to eternal abundant life for everyone.
So walk in the power of the Holy
Spirit, in this chaotic void, telling the truth about the deep and how very
deep it is, but also exposing the lies this void tells us. Walk in the light of God, opening our eyes to
signs of God’s grace and love among us. Swim
in the waters of baptism, washed, refreshed, renewed, our old self drowned, new
life promised. Become reborn each day,
each hour, each minute, hopeful, faithful, beloved, strong, and vibrant. May God’s vision be written in our hearts,
that all tears will be wiped away, that no one will know hunger or pain or need
any longer, that nothing will divide us, that we will find connection with each other
and with God, that we will share all we have, that we will find ourselves
grateful for all God’s gifts to us, that God will bring in the Kingdom through
us, that God will reign.
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