Sermon: On being accepted (Baptism of our Lord, Jan. 11, 2015)

Baptism of our Lord (B)

January 11, 2014

Mark 1:4-11

            If you were here last week, you received a new “Star Gift.” We did the same thing last year. This is an Epiphany exercise meant to carry you through the year, an opportunity to notice and focus on the gifts that God has already given to you. So each person pulled a colored star from the offering plate that had one of God’s gift written on it: gifts like assurance, hope, peace, listening, singing, laughter, and so on. I suggested you put that star someplace where you will see it every day, so that you will be reminded every day to look for that gift, and see how God is making God’s self known to you through that gift. (If you weren’t here and want to participate in this year-long exercise, there are more stars, so feel free to grab one this week!)

            Some people, I know, really liked the gift they got. But I also got some complaints from people about wanting to trade in their star for a different one. I admit to you that I was one who

I include this with much sarcasm.

wanted to trade mine in. The gift I drew was acceptance. The first emotion I felt about it was fear. When I thought of acceptance, I thought about how often we have to accept things we don’t want to be true. You accept a diagnosis, a death, a break-up, an undesired outcome. You move through the various stages of grief and finally, hopefully, land on acceptance of your new reality – and while the final product is somewhat freeing, the way there is extremely painful. And it scared me to think of going through that this year because you know what? There are a lot of things I want right now, like, really, really want – I’m not talking about physical things that I could buy, but outcomes, dreams, life goals. And when I saw that so-called gift of acceptance staring back at me from the star, I did not want to face the possibility that I may have to accept not getting those things that I want so deeply, and somehow seeing God in that.

            I know I’m not alone in this. Who would want to accept anything less than their heart’s desire? I think this is why so many of us make New Years resolutions. We know that our lives are not entirely as they should be, and that there is room in us for growth. We know that our relationship with God could be better, that we often overlook the gifts we have in our lives, that we can be lazy, or that we can be workaholics, or that we can participate in activities that do not build up others or ourselves. There is a gap between who we are, and who we think we should be, and we fear that if someone else perceives that gap, we might not be accepted. Or maybe worse, we might not be able to accept ourselves. Negative self-talk is some of the most destructive stuff we can engage in. So we try to take matters into our own hands and “fix” ourselves, engaging in New Years resolutions and goal-setting in an effort to become better so that we can more easily accept ourselves as worthwhile people, and hope that others will be able to do the same. It is certainly a noble effort, and often the resolutions we make are important and healthy ones.

            The problem, of course, with seeking acceptance from others and ourselves by taking on our shortcomings ourselves and hoping that, “This year, I will have the willpower to stick to that diet, to exercise regularly, to floss daily, to read more books,” is that more often than not, we fail. We fall further down than we were in the first place, because not only do we have bad habits, but also when we tried to save ourselves, we failed, so we must be even worse than we thought. Acceptance becomes even harder.

            You can see why I was so adverse to my star gift of acceptance this year. All this and much more ran through my head as I stared down at it. The thought that I had the rest of the day was, “Acceptance seems less like a gift and more like a struggle.”

            But then Monday morning rolled around and I started to study the familiar text of Jesus’

By He Qi

baptism. I love this Sunday when we hear about Jesus’ baptism because it helps us think more deeply about our own baptism. I think that many of us don’t think much or very regularly about our baptism, am I right? I mean, that happened for most of us when we were only babies, so we don’t remember the event itself. It may be significant to us that it happened, but we see it as a once and done event, something that got taken care of when we were young and now we’re good to go. We have the same thing done for our kids – it’s tradition, after all – and that may have been very meaningful, but is it something you think about daily? I doubt it.

            But as we read about Jesus’ baptism, we see that, remember it or not, there is no more important and life-giving event in our whole lives than our baptism. Let me explain. I talked earlier about my fear of my star gift, acceptance. I had pictured it as my ability to accept things that come my way, but of course acceptance goes the other way: we also long to be accepted. I’m sure you can all think of a time in your life when you did not feel accepted – by your peers, by your work place, by your in-laws. For me, it was middle school, when one day I was apparently no longer cool enough to hang with the “in crowd.” I felt it also when I met a former boyfriend’s family who was from the South, and this California girl with a big mouth didn’t quite fit in with the southern politeness of that family, and I didn’t feel accepted.  

Not being accepted can be devastating. I remember well the anguish of 8^th grade, when I longed to know why no one seemed to understand me and why my peers couldn’t just accept me as I

was. Our lives are full of surface affirmation – “likes” on Facebook, certificates and trophies just for participating – but what we really long for is not a huge social network, but a sense of true belonging, the promise of acceptance.

            And that, my friends, is precisely what we receive in our baptism. We see it right here in Jesus’ baptism. Notice two things about what happens here. First of all, God’s words to Jesus as the Holy Spirit descends like a dove onto Jesus are personal and direct: “You are my Son, my beloved, with whom I am well-pleased.” You are. They are the same words God will say to Gracie and Sofie when they are baptized in a moment: “You are God’s beloved. God is well pleased with you.” That is what happens in baptism, you see. We are claimed as God’s beloved, just as we are, accepted and promised that God will never ever let us go.

            The second thing to note is that immediately after this moment of loving acceptance, Jesus is sent out into the desert to be tempted by the devil. That is, he is sent out into the world, where struggle and temptation and pain and suffering are real. But he goes out still wet with the promise of baptism: “You are my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Jesus’ baptism begins his ministry, but it also carries him through it. The promise of God’s love, God’s care, God’s delight, follows him on his journey through life.

            And we were given the assurance of this promise in our own baptism, as well. It is a promise that God will never abandon us; through trials and dangers, through temptation, loneliness, and fear, God continues to promise us eternal love and acceptance, even when we struggle to love and accept ourselves. Wherever we may go, and whatever we may do or have done, God does and will continue to love us, hold onto us, and accept us. That is a gift worth remembering every single day of our lives.

            Let us pray… God of love and acceptance, we know that we often fall short, and try as we might to fix things, we still struggle sometimes to love and accept ourselves. Help us to remember that in our baptism, you promised to love and accept us on that day and everyday thereafter, and help us live into that promise with joy. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.