Sermon: You are loved. You are enough. (Baptism of our Lord, January 12, 2014)

1^st Sunday after Epiphany – Baptism of our Lord

January 12, 2013

Matthew 3:13-17

            There was a first grade teacher who was frustrated in her job, and seriously thinking about quitting. She changed her mind one night while attending a night class at the local university. This is her story in her own words:

A friendly woman who sat next to me leaned over and said, "Say, I met an admirer of yours the other day. I was at the bus station waiting for my son, and was noticing a Hispanic woman and her little daughter waiting for a bus. The mother didn't speak much English, but I began chatting with the little girl. She told me they were on their way to Colorado to join her father. She was now in the second grade, and she mentioned the name of her teacher. Then she opened her little purse and took a worn picture from it and said, 'But this is my very favorite teacher. I really love her!'"

My friend went on, "I looked at that picture and was astonished that I knew the person she showed me. It was you!" "Do you remember her name?" I asked. "Yes, it was Adelina." Suddenly Adelina's little brown face began to emerge in my mind. Adelina. Just another little first grader. But she said, "This is the teacher I really love." She had shown my picture to a stranger and said, "This is the teacher I really love." All the way home that night that phrase boomed and throbbed in my mind: This is the teacher I really love. With that kind of approval, I resolved to change, not my profession, but my attitude.

            How powerful such simple words can be: “This is the one whom I really love!” They are words that really can change our attitude – so much of our attitude, after all, is shaped by how people treat us. That’s why the trend now in teaching, parenting, and leading is to offer praise and approval, in hopes that this will encourage people to do good work.

Unfortunately, critical words have the same power, maybe even more. How often our whole day might take a turn for the worse if just one person criticizes us or says something mean. I’m so susceptible to this that if even a stranger honks at me while I’m driving, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, I start doubting myself and wishing I had done something differently so as not to have upset that person. We can do our best to let problems and criticisms slide down our backs like rain off a duck, but somehow, they can still find a way to bother us.

            Why is that? Brené Brown is a researcher at the University of Houston, and the focus of her research is vulnerability and shame. She argues that we are a culture deeply affected by shame, at every age. She defines shame as something different from guilt. Guilt, she says, is, “I did something bad.” Shame, however, is, “I am bad.” It is a belief that there is something about us that is unlovable, wrong, and worthless. So any time someone says something to us that affirms this deep-seated and destructive fear, we readily believe it. “You see?” we think. “I am bad. I was right. I’m worthless. I don’t deserve love.”

            So how do we combat these feelings of inadequacy, this sense that who and what we are is somehow lacking? How do we move from scarcity – the belief that we are not enough, not smart enough, skinny enough, organized enough, tough enough, you fill in the blank – to the knowledge that we are enough, that we are worthy of love?

Today’s Gospel lesson about Jesus’ baptism gives us a start. There are many images we use when talking about baptism: forgiveness, cleansing, incorporation into the church, dying and rising with Christ. But I have always been particularly drawn to that last part of Jesus’ baptism, the part where the voice comes from heaven and says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” In a world so affected by shame and unworthiness, who doesn’t long to hear those words: “You are my child. You are loved. I am pleased with you.” They are words of assurance. They are words of promise. They are words of love.

And most powerfully, they are words we hear not only in Jesus’ baptism, but in our own baptism as well. They speak to hearts that often ache with the pain of inadequacy, with the fear of not being enough. “You are my child, my beloved,” God says to our aching hearts. We don’t always feel much like God’s children, do we? When we’re in despair, when we are having doubts, when we mess up big time and hurt ourselves or people we love, it is hard to feel like God’s children, much less like God’s beloved children! Yet even so, God says in baptism, to us and to everyone who can hear, “This is my beloved child, with whom I am well pleased.”

You see, in God’s eyes, we are enough. We are loved. Yes, we mess up; yes, we fall short. We are guilty of these things. But God’s love never fails us.

            Today at St. Martin we have the joy of witnessing the baptism of Aerianna. Before a baptism, I usually meet with the parents of the child to be baptized and we talk about what it means, what happens in this sacrament. At age six, Aerianna was able to be a part of this conversation as well. Among other things that we talked about, I told her that her baptism is God’s way of saying, “I love you so, so much and will never let you go! You are my beloved child!” Aerianna was quick to point out that she already is a beloved child of God, and has been all along. Tuché! She is absolutely right, and I told her so: she has been loved by God even since she was still in her mom’s belly.

So what changes in baptism? Why do we bother to baptize, and why should we bother to remember and talk about it? One reason is that in baptism, God makes that truth public – just like when Jesus was baptized and a voice came from heaven saying for all to hear, “This is my Son, my beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” Today, God will say very publicly for all to hear, “Aerianna is my daughter, my beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” And God said that to us in each of our baptisms, calling us by name, and telling us, “I love you, you are mine, and you are enough.”

I started this sermon with a story about a 7-year-old who pointed to a picture of her teacher and said, “This is the one I really love.” This heartfelt declaration changed the teacher’s whole perspective on life. If those words are so powerful out of the mouth of a child, how much more so out of the mouth of God? If we took time every day to really hear these words, how might we change?

Maybe some of you made New Years resolutions this year. By now, halfway through January, maybe you have already given up on them! If that’s the case, or even if it’s not, I have a new one for you. Tell yourself at least once every day, “I am God’s beloved child. I am enough.” Let’s practice right now… Say it to yourself first thing when you wake up. Say it right before you fall asleep. Say it whenever you start to doubt yourself.

Say it again and again, brothers and sisters in Christ, beloved children of God, because it is true. God made you. God became like you in order to better know you. God promised to be with you in all things. God took on our humanity and even died and rose again for your sake so that you need not fear death. You are God’s beloved children. God is pleased with you. You are enough.

Let us pray… God of love, help us to remember the promises you make at baptism, to live into those promises, and to remember every day that you created us good, and you love us no matter what. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.