Acts 19.1-7, Mark 1.4-11
Baptism of Christ, 7 January 2018, Sutton Montis
In our creed we affirm Jesus as ‘God of God’ … and also ‘incarnate’, ‘made man’.
Now I think that if Jesus was fully human – as we firmly believe he was – then his understanding of himself, his sense of calling to his particular ministry, would have dawned on him over time. His sense of vocation would have come about through what others said about him, or said to him about himself. That’s the way it is for us, for each of us is formed in relationship with others.
So, no surprises then that the Gospel of Mark begins by setting the scene for Jesus to realise his calling and take his first steps in his mission. And the way this happens is through the words and actions of John the baptiser, through the action of God the Spirit and the words of God the Father.
Jesus found John at the water’s edge telling the gathered crowds of one more powerful than him following after him; one who would eclipse John’s baptism of water with a baptism of the Holy Spirit. John’s subsequent action was to receive Jesus in the river Jordan and to baptise him.
And then, as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And the voice of his Father came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’
Imagine how much those words must have meant to Jesus. How encouraging, how energising they must have been. There’s probably little else more precious to a young adult son than hearing their father giving them words of affirmation and support.
If I can get personal a while, I confess that I’ve never had a particularly close relationship with my own father, though we’ve always got on ok we’ve seldom found ways to express any depth of understanding or appreciation. Growing up, my Dad seldom stopped me doing the things which interested me, he let me get on and make the life decisions I did without much comment, which was kind-of liberating and kind-of isolating. Cautious and conservative by nature, occasionally he would step in to warn me against potentially disastrous decisions and usually I knew he was right to do so. The one time I really hoped he would step in to tell me to stop and think again he didn’t – and that time was one of the key moments in my life.
Should I move from being a church volunteer, youth leader, PCC member, whilst holding down a steady job in computing, into full-time work for a church, more than halving my income and placing a very large question-mark over my future prospects? Earlier that day I’d been interviewed for the post of a church-community worker in Liverpool 8, Toxteth, an area of some infamy at the time and one which respectable suburbanites like ourselves from the other side of town, tended to avoid. I was astonished to have been offered the job, from a field of eight candidates, and at that point I hesitated, the enormity of this decision hitting home. A big part of me wanted to accept, for I felt ready to continue my journey of service to God in this way. But an equally big part of me was pretty anxious about the prospect of moving to live and work there.
Who could I call to persuade me this was a bad move? I thought. My dad, of course. I was sure he’d waste no time in telling me to turn it down and knuckle down to the day job in the office instead. And what did he say when I told him that St Gabriel’s, Toxteth, wanted me to go and be their community worker on the mean streets of Liverpool 8? I’d expected a pregnant pause in the conversation. But without any hesitation he said, “That’s a brilliant move. Places like that need all the help they can get. I think you’d do a great job there.”
[DISPLAY DISAPPOINTMENT] “No Dad, did you hear me right….” “Yes, I heard you, son. It’s great. You’ll be good at it. Go for it.”
I guess I might have seen this coming, for there was a progression here for both of us, from both having been nurtured by my nan, his mother, Jessie, a Christian woman who quietly went about living out her simple faith, without fuss but with plenty of faithfulness. There was progression for me, from having been encouraged from an early age by church ministers, Sunday School teachers, youth leaders, to take part in activities which developed my potential as a disciple of Christ, an emerging leader.
My Dad’s unexpected words of affirmation were at that time the latest in a long line of similar encouragements I’d received over the years from people in and around church, encouragements to follow my passions, deepen my knowledge, strengthen my involvement, in working alongside others in sharing the Christian life. And now … I’m so grateful for each of these people for the encouragement they gave me.
You may have similar stories to tell – of people who have helped you, over the years, to see your potential, to take steps in certain directions, to be bold at times in doing so and finding yourself growing personally as a consequence. We celebrate and give thanks today, as always, for those who have helped, still help, us on our journey.
And what a joy it is to be an encourager of others – some of you here, I know, are very good at this, perhaps without really realising it. It’s a great gift, being insightful about what makes others tick, being intuitive about how those people might grow and flourish by taking fresh steps in new directions, being cheeky enough to tell them this and persistent enough to encourage them to keep this on their agenda.
Now in the Bruton and Cary Deanery over the next three years we are all being asked to work together on what is being called a Deanery Mission Plan. It’s not so much a plan, I’d say, but more a set of intentions to help each of our churches to encourage each other in the work of the Gospel in the places we are in. One set of intentions is bundled under the heading of ‘Vocation’ – which means that the churches of the Deanery are committing to helping people to discern what God is calling them to do.
We’re committing to recognising and developing potential leaders, in lay ministry and ordained ministry. To encouraging, providing training and support, whether for people wanting to read in church or lead prayers, or explore leading services, or take on PCC roles, or serve the community through Christian charitable work, or …. well, the possibilities are endless.
Hopefully this may raise the question for you, is God calling me into new areas of service? If so then our church leaders are keen to offer discernment and help for you to take the next steps.
Hopefully this also raises the question for each of us, how can I perceive and encourage others who God may be calling? How can I be an encourager of others in their vocation?
Our present times call us to think a little ‘outside the box’ – to consider that whilst Sunday worship continues to be at the core of what the Church of England is about, it’s not just in church services but also in school assemblies, hospice visits, credit union volunteering, being a good neighbour, and so many other ways, that Christians are working out their vocation and the life of the church is being expressed. When West Camel PCC couldn’t find anyone to take on the role of secretary a couple of years ago they recruited a local young men, a sixth-former, keen to learn, a role which helped the PCC continue their work and helped that young man develop his skills and experience in that area. It wasn’t a perfect experiment, it was relatively short-lived, but it’s a modest example of what I’m talking about.
For, in this wide-ranging area of vocation, there’s plenty of imperfection around. Following our instincts about what God may be calling us to do, is a challenge, and we may make some errors of judgment along the way. But that should not stop us doing it. It’s always good to try – and if we fail to take our learning from that experience into the next one.
Recall, after all, what Jesus did when John called him into the river Jordan to be baptised. John’s was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Before being baptised Jesus, just like every other person who came to John, confessed his shortcomings to God, for even he knew that he was only fit for the purpose of serving the Father by the Father’s blessing and with the Spirit’s help.
Let’s celebrate and give thanks today, as always, for those who have helped, still help, us on our journey. Let’s re-commit ourselves today to the ongoing work of following our passions, deepening our knowledge, strengthening our involvement, in working alongside others in sharing the Christian life. It’s a life in relationship with others, including God, Father, Son and Spirit, who are ever-close to us in this work.
I’d like to close with a prayer attributed to the late Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador but actually written by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw, Michigan. It expresses so well our imperfection in following our calling to serve our God. But it also encourages us on that journey, and invites us to encourage others in that way.
It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own. [1]
Notes
[1] Thanks to Revd Rose Hoskins for this prayer, composed by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw, drafted for a homily by Cardinal John Dearden in Nov. 1979 for a celebration of departed priests. Archbishop Oscar Romero Prayer: A Step Along the Way, on the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops website.
