Sunday, 11 August 2019

Gifts of God: Trinity 8, with baptism


It’s a great delight to be baptising Isla this morning, not least because I am going to be one of her godparents. But it’s always a delight to baptise a child.

When we do so, we are doing lots of things. We are praying for her, of course, and for those who care for her. We are making her part of the gigantic family of the church, through all time and space, declaring that she belongs to us all, and that we are all there for her. We are reminding ourselves, so that we can remind her, that there’s nothing we can do, nothing that can happen to us which can separate us from God. I may just pour a trickle of water on her head in a few minutes, but the water of baptism is a symbol of the love of God which is ever-flowing, which can never dry up. No matter how badly things may go wrong for her, as they can do for all of us, it all comes out in the wash of God’s love, so to speak. 

But one of the most important things that baptism tells us is that the child we baptise, before all else, above all else, is a child of God, his gift to us. We don’t give Isla to God in baptism, he gives her to us. She, like every child, like every person, is a reminder of the generosity of God, of the giftedness of all things. She is born as a gift, unique and precious, into a world which is all gift.

Do not be afraid, little flock, says Jesus to his anxious disciples, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

When Jesus talks about the kingdom, he doesn’t just, or even mainly, mean life after death. It is far broader and better than that. Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus talks about it as “life in all its fullness”, life in the here and now that is rich and deep, life that is beyond our expectations, beyond anything we could kid ourselves we had earned or deserved. It may not always be easy – neither Jesus’ life nor the lives of his first followers were easy – but it will be full of meaning, full of treasure, because it will be lived in the company of God. And this kingdom, this new place to live, is given to us, by God’s good pleasure.  All we need to do is to learn open our eyes to see it.

Jesus tells a parable about slaves waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet. Of course, they would need to be awake to look after him when he arrived  – they would expect to get into trouble if they weren’t. But Jesus turns that expectation on its head here.  He goes on to say , “He – that is the master -  will fasten his belt and  have them – that is the slaves - sit down to eat , and he will come and serve them.”  The slaves don’t need to be awake so they can work; thgey need to be awake so that they can share in the joy of that wedding he had been to, hear the stories, feel the excitement. They are going to be part of the celebration. Who, in their right minds, would want to miss it? Everyone hearing this parable would have known what the life of a slave was normally like, a life of drudgery, hardship and often fear. But in the kingdom of God, the ordinary things of life, even its darkest, middle-of-the-night moments, can be transformed into places of delight, when we learn to see God at work in them, God who wants nothing more than our company.  

It’s not always easy to trust that and to learn to look for that, of course. In our Old Testament Reading Abram longs for a child. God has promised that he will be the father of a multitude, but right now he’s not even father of one, and according to the Bible he’s almost a hundred years old, and married to a woman who is well beyond child-bearing age herself. He’s set out into the wilderness, enticed by God’s promise, to a new land that God has said his descendants will fill, but there are no descendants, and Abram is starting to despair, quite understandably. It looks as if all he has will eventually go to a distant relative Eliezer, and what of God’s promise then?  Abram is no hero. Trust doesn’t come easily to him. He tries all sorts of tricks of his own to achieve his aim in life. Twice he gives his wife away to others, to save his own skin. He fathers a child with Sarah’s slave girl, Hagar, at Sarah’s suggestion – perhaps that’s the way to create descendants they think – but that ends in disaster. Poor Hagar and her son, who have done nothing to deserve it, are cast out in the wilderness, where they have to be rescued by God. Abram is no hero. It’s a huge struggle for him to trust in the generosity and faithfulness of God, to see life as a gift, rather than as something he must negotiate through by his own anxious striving, just as it is for most of us.

But God sticks with him, reassuring again and again when he struggles. Look towards the heavens says God on this occasion, taking him outside his tent. Count the stars if you can!  Of course he can’t – it would be hard enough in our light–polluted skies, but impossible in the star-filled darkness of the desert. So shall your descendants be! And so it turns out to be. Eventually his son Isaac is born, and he goes on to have children of his own and soon it is as God has promised.  Abraham is the father of a multitude, despite this inauspicious beginning.

What we see, as we follow his story, is someone who is slowly, painfully, through many ups and downs, learning to trust God’s generous heart, rather than his own abilities and strengths. His story is an encouragement to us to keep going when times are tough, to keep daring to trust that we are in God’s hands, even if we have no idea what he is up to or where he is leading us.
Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

To be honest, if we know that, we know everything we need to know. This is one of the most comforting and encouraging verses in scripture, and one which we should all have graven on our hearts, so we can find it easily in dark or desperate moments. It’s not just that God grudgingly thinks he ought to look after us, now we are here. There’s nothing conditional about it, no qualifications; we don’t have to know anything, do anything, figure anything out. He doesn’t say that he’ll give us the kingdom if we are good, or say the right prayers or live the right way. Giving us the kingdom, life in all its fullness, is something which is in his nature to do, his good pleasure, his delight.

I pray many things for Isla today, and for the rest of the family, but most of all I pray that she’ll grow up knowing the generosity of God, that she’ll grow up knowing what we all struggle sometimes to believe about ourselves, that we are gifts of God – each one of us - that life is a gift of God, that everything around us is a gift of God. I pray that every day she’ll hear God’s call to her to sit down and eat with him, just because he wants her company.  I pray this for her because if she knows that, she’ll have that purse that never wears out, she’ll have found the treasure that never fails, and she’ll never need to be afraid.
Amen

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