Wednesday, February 11, 2015

My Grandson's Baptism...and mine...and yours


This past Sunday, February 1, my wife, Caroline, and I travelled to Hudson Falls, north of Saratoga Springs, to visit with our son, daughter-in-law, and grandson.  We try to get over to visit them every now and then, because (1) they are so close, relatively speaking, and (2) we get to see our grandson.  (Okay, we love seeing them, too, but, come on... being a grandparent is amazing!)  This weekend was special because our grandson was being baptized.

Our son, Michael, is the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Hudson Falls, and, although he preached and led much of the worship service, a friend and close colleague of his led the baptism.  Frances is not only an amazing and gifted minister, but she also has been pastor to our family, as you'll read about in just a moment.

Baptisms always have been special to me.  They have been special for me to do.  They have been special for me to remember.  They have been special because they represent such a basic, fundamental part of the Christian Faith.  Years ago I wrote a brief paper on how we Presbyterian and Reformed folks view baptism, a paper which I used whenever I met with someone to talk about their baptism or, more often, the baptism of their child.  Among other things, this is what I wrote in that paper:

"Baptism is a sign that God has claimed us, that God has established the covenant with each of us, and that God will be our God, no matter what we later decide to do.  It also is a sign that we have become inseparably a part of the Church, the community of faith.  The Church becomes both responsible to us and responsible for us. The Sacrament of Baptism is about love.  It is about acceptance.  It is about inclusiveness.  It is about belonging."

As I said, this is a basic, fundamental part of the Faith for us.

We thought we might want to reserve a few pews in the sanctuary that morning, but then realized that we were going to want to sit in the front, and nobody ever sits in those pews!  So we knew we'd be just fine.  As I sat in church with my family and with my daughter-in-law's family, I couldn't help but get teary at the mix of feelings that were washing over me.  This was my grandson.  This was a significant act of religious tradition that was being reenacted and passed on.  This was about the wonders of human and familial love.  This was about the personalization of God's love as it was being symbolized in and for and with my grandson.  As if all those emotions weren't enough, what my son said during the sermon added even more.  Here's part of what he said from the pulpit Sunday morning:

"Baptism is something we do to mark ourselves as members of a community. It is something done to us so that others can see that we are members of that  community. In baptism we are claimed by God and claimed by the whole  community of all those who have ever followed Christ; and the grace in baptism is so complete that no response on our part is expected or necessary.  That's why we allow for the baptism of infants. It is how we mark and claim that infant as a part of our community, and how we make sure that everyone sees that we have claimed him or claimed her.

"When my colleague and friend Frances baptizes Harvey, he will forever be marked as a part of this church. He will be forever marked as one who belongs to God. He will be forever marked as one who the followers of Christ throughout the ages have accepted. He cannot possibly understand that. But neither can I.

"That grace claimed you when you could not respond. It claimed you when you were baptized as a squirming infant or as a youth or as an adult. It is how we have always affirmed people and said: you belong with us. And it is why, in hospitals, people will even baptize those whose life is over. Frances came to St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital in New York City a year and a half ago and baptized our stillborn daughter Aliza. And if Harvey has no way to respond to that claim, then Aliza, whose heart had stopped beating the day before, had even less. But it doesn't matter. Because in baptism, we as her family, Frances as a pastor, and by extension, you as the church, and God as her God, said 'you are mine.' Beyond anything you can respond to, beyond anything you can earn, beyond anything you can lose is the claim that God placed on you when God looked at you and said 'you are mine.'"

I'm not sure where and how my son got so smart and so eloquent!  But what he said Sunday morning applied so much to all of us who were gathered there.  And what he said Sunday morning applies just as much to all of us now... to you, wherever you are when you read this.  God looks at you... loves you... accepts you... calls you... gives you gifts for ministry... and says to the world, "This person right here?  This person is one whom I love.  This person is mine, and will be forever."

And so, as one of the liturgies of the Church invites us to do, I invite you to do as well:  "Remember your baptism, and be thankful."

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