This afternoon, I will be leaving town for a five day stay in Big Sur. Since Monday, I’ve been making lists of the things that need to get done before I go and lists of the things I need or want to take with me and lists of the things I will need to do when I get back. The lists have waxed and waned as the stacks of things have grown in one corner of my bedroom and on several sides of several desks and as new things have emerged and have come to mind, but I’ve noticed that my fretting about all this hasn’t changed much. It’s been more or less a constant companion in these last days, and the fretting will stay with me until I get in the car this afternoon and head down the road. At that point, I will return to some kind of sanity. I’ll remember that I always leave home without something and that I always figure out a way to live without it. I’ll remember that there are lots of folks here at church who will take care of anything I’ve neglected to do—and that if it’s not urgent, it will still be waiting when I get back. At that point, as I begin my journey, I’ll stop worrying and fretting and stewing about all those things that I imagine are in my control.
I wish it were as easy to turn off the worrying and fretting and stewing about the things I know for certain are not in my control. Like most parents, I worry from time to time about my children and my grandchildren. Like most of us who drive a car or go to the grocery store or pay utility bills, I fret about our economy. Like most Americans, I worry about this seemingly endless war and think each and every day about the men and women who are in harm’s way. I’m clear that most of the workings of this world are not in my control, and I sometimes struggle to remember that there is something bigger than us at work in all this mess.
I sometimes struggle to remember, and then there comes a day like today—a day when it comes into focus once again for me. Today, even as we remember those who have lost their lives in the service of this country, we welcome another person into the Body of Christ. Today we are going to baptize Joshua Zander Wild, and once again, as Josh’s parents make promises for him and in his name, we will all renew our own baptismal vows. Usually, when we renew our vows, our focus is on our side of the Covenant. It may be that you have an experience similar to mine. Even as I say, “I will, with God’s help,” I’m remembering those moments when even God’s help was not enough to keep me on track and I’m wondering if it’s going to be any different this time.
Today, I invite you to enter this time of promising with a different perspective. Today, I invite you to remember that God is with us in this Covenant. Today I invite you to remember that God makes promises also. Our gospel reading reminds us that God doesn’t seem to have the same difficulty keeping promises that we do. Throughout scripture God makes promises to us—God makes covenant with us. God the Creator promises that he will be our God and that we will be his people. God the Christ promises that he will always be with us, even to the end of the age.
And God the Holy Spirit, who hovered over all Creation in the beginning, remains with us to guide us, to comfort and to give us new life. God promises to be with us. God does not promise to fix everything in this world. God does not stop evil from happening in the world. The deaths of those we remember today are proof that God does not take back the free will he gives us. God does promise to be with us—to love us and hold us, to guide us and strengthen us, to comfort and heal us. Our own part of the promise is to do our very best live into Jesus’ commandment to love God and our neighbor—to show God’s love to each other as we move through this life together. Our part is to seek the holy in each other, to live in awareness of God’s love, to work for peace and justice throughout the world and to share God’s grace and goodness with all we encounter.
Today, through his baptism, Joshua enters God’s grace in a new way, as he is reborn to life in Christ. Today Josh will be sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever. The cross Pastor Kate will mark on his forehead will never disappear. We may not be able to see it, but it will always be there. To all outward appearances, Josh’s life may not change after his baptism, but it will be different. This child with the remarkable memory will never forget the day the water was poured over his head. He will never forget the day God claimed him as God’s own. He will never forget the day this community promised to support him and his parents in his life in Christ. Josh will never forget, his parents and godparents will never forget, we will never forget—just as God never forgets us.
Thanks be to God.