It matters [Proper 17B - Psalm 15]

 The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Psalm 15

 

It matters

Christ Church, Hudson

 

It all matters.  What you say and what you do and who you are: it all matters.  Your thoughts and your intentions: it all matters.  If today’s lessons make anything clear it is that: it all matters.  These scriptures don’t leave us much wiggle room; they take things seriously.  It matters to Moses in Deuteronomy.  It definitely matters in today’s psalm.  It matters when James explains what we must understand to be pure and undefiled.  It matters when Jesus reveals the contents of the human heart.  And it matters because there is water in the font and a baptismal covenant on today’s menu.

 

And I think, maybe, that feels like a lot of pressure, like today’s scripture passages are conspiring with the Baptismal Covenant to overwhelm us and weigh us down, to set an impossibly high standard.  If you listened closely today you heard quite a bit of instruction, a lot of guidance, one might even be tempted to call them rules.  And in that instruction, whether it be ancient Torah or the pastoral advice of the early Church, you might also feel the weight of lingering, staggering expectation.

 

And you might wonder if you are able to live up to it all.  You might wonder if you have the stuff to live what the psalmist calls a “blameless life.”  You might wonder if you have the strength to “observe diligently” the commandments Moses unpacked at the threshold of the Promised Land.  You might wonder if you are able to bridle your tongue well enough to prevent your religion from being what James calls “worthless.”  You might wonder if it is possible to prevent the many and sundry evil intentions in Jesus’ list from spilling forth from your own heart.  You might wonder because the stakes seem high: “Lord, who may dwell in your tabernacle?”  The answer, according to the psalmist is: “Whoever leads a blameless life...”  Good luck.

 

Today’s scriptures make a faithful life sound very difficult.  Which makes the baptismal waters look inauspicious.  What kind of expectations hide beneath the surface?  Are those who approach being set up for failure, promised to a path of broken promises?  Is the way of Jesus designed to be a long guilt trip?     

 

Today, with these questions hanging over us, we walk two children to the font.  Lydia and Luella have donned beautiful dresses for this special occasion; they are surrounded by their family, friends, and fans. They are here to meet Jesus in this place, as so many others have done.  They are here to be welcomed into the household of God, to be sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.  It is a beautiful and exciting event, one that will forever change their lives – just as baptism changed my life and your life.    

 

But it is no small thing to walk people to this font.  The love that stains us makes its demands.  The Spirit that fills us intends to direct us.  The promises we make, that we will again renew today, set a challenging course.  We are changed in those waters so that we might change an entrenched world into the Kingdom of God, and not without resistance.  It feels like a lot of pressure, like everything we do could impact the mission, like it all matters, every little thing.

 

Those enchanted waters always do their thing: the grace shows up every time, without fail.  And the water will prove salvific again today.  But, at the risk of dashing the psalmist’s hopes, this water does not produce perfect people.  Baptized children do not live blameless lives.  I am a parent, and so I can say that with authority.  Even these precious little girls will, in the future, make some mistakes.  They will fail, on occasion, to live up to today’s demanding scriptures.  They will, at times, be slow to listen and quick to speak.  Sometimes they will be quick to anger.  Sometimes they will give in to envy and pride.  Just like humans do.   Because they are human.  Because God made them human. 

 

Sometimes it feels hard to be both human and Christian.  Because the expectations of our faith stretch us in ways that don’t always feel natural.  Jesus tells us things like love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.  That’s not that easy.  He says that the meek and those who mourn are blessed.  But the meek get trampled in this world and mourning doesn’t feel like a blessing; it hurts.  He tells us to store up treasures in heaven and to give our stuff away to those in need, but that doesn’t sound like great financial advice.  He says to not worry about tomorrow, but there are so many things to worry about, endless sources of anxiety.  He models a life of humility and sacrifice.  He asks us to lose our lives and take up a cross.  He used his dying breath to forgive his killers.  And none of it is easy.

 

But all of it is love.  And that is why we are here.  That is why we shed happy tears into the waters of the font.  That is why we keep gluing our baptismal promises back together.  That is why we aspire to these demanding ancient scriptures.  That is why we follow this crucified Jesus.  That is why we give our lives to this God who asks too much of us.  We have been captured by a love that will not let us go; that embraces us even when, maybe especially when, we are not blameless.  We have stumbled onto all that matters.

 

The love that has made us, and saved us, has found its way deep into our hearts – and is now trying to push its way out.  Because love is too important to lock away.  It needs to be shown; it needs to be shared. 

 

God asks a lot of us because this fragile, hurting world has great, big needs.  It needs a love that has been forged in the fire; it needs a love that is strong enough to resist evil and strive for justice and stand for peace and respect the dignity of every human being – especially the marginalized and forsaken.  It needs a love that shouts Good News against the flood of despair and anguish. 

 

It all matters because the stakes are so high.  We carry the light of love.  And if people cannot see that in us, cannot see the glow of love in us, in our lives, in our actions, in our words, and in our intentions, where will they find it?

 

And so this is our mission.  It is our purpose.  And we will, with God’s help.  We don’t have to be perfect or blameless to shine with the light of Christ; sometimes the light shines best through the cracks.  Anyway, we are human and so blameless is not even on the menu.  But, flaws and all, we are called to be ministers of the Gospel; every baptized person is called to share the love of God.  We don’t have to be perfect to share God’s love, we just have to be willing.  And our feeble will, in tandem with the support of our baptized siblings and God’s help, is enough – more than enough, actually.

 

It is not always easy to embody love, to live with the Gospel leaking from your pores, to be like Jesus in this contentious world.  But we aren’t Christians because it is easy; we are Christians because it matters.  Because the love that claimed us at the font transforms lives, has the power to change this world into something better.  God calls us to this wild faith because God needs us to spread the love because this world needs to know that there is a love that refuses to let go.  God help us, it is not always easy to be a Christian. But it matters; it matters so much.  And so we do.  And so we will, with God’s help.