Sermons - Pastor Mark Williams
“The Movement of the Spirit”
1 / 12 / 03
Mark 1:4-11
The beginning of the gospel of Mark is abrupt. Mark includes no stories of Jesus’ birth. There’s no description of shepherds or wise men or Jesus as a young boy sitting at the feet of the priests at the temple. Instead, Mark starts Jesus’ story with the moment that he was baptized by John. At the beginning of Mark’s story, Jesus was already a fully-grown man when John dunked him in the Jordan River. And as Jesus emerged from beneath the waters of the Jordan, he looked up and saw into heaven itself. And a dove came down to him from heaven. And a voice from heaven spoke to him, offering him the assuring words, “You are my Son, my Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” If we read the verses immediately following today’s passage, we learn that the same Spirit that descended to Jesus in the form of a gentle dove then drove him away from the that place, into the wilderness, to be tempted all alone. The profound spiritual moment of joy at Jesus’ baptism was followed immediately by the profound spiritual moment of temptation and struggle. In the gospel according Mark, the beginning of the story of Jesus is abrupt and it moves quickly. We don’t know anything about Jesus’ origins or his parents or his childhood from Mark’s telling. All that we know is that John the Baptist predicted that Jesus would come. And we know that at his baptism the Holy Spirit came to Jesus, and the voice of God spoke to him claiming him as God’s own precious child.

The Holy Spirit sometimes drives us down difficult paths. Our faith in God can force us to face challenges that we dread. The Spirit prods us sometimes, pushing us toward that thing that we fear in order that we may grow in our faith in God. We’d like to believe that when our souls are right with God, everything will turn out all right. In those spiritual high moments when we can almost see into heaven itself, we’d like to believe that our faith will make our path easier. But it doesn’t work that way. Quite to the contrary, Christian faith seems to require that we travel down difficult paths. The Spirit drives us to struggle to figure out what’s right in a confusing world. When we’re closest to God, sometimes that’s when the way seems the hardest. Jacob encountered God in the wilderness one night, appearing as a stranger. Jacob was face to face with God. And what did Jacob and God do in the intimate and private moment of connection? They wrestled all night long until they could wrestle no longer. Jacob emerged from this his most intimate experience of the presence of God with a blessing and an injured leg. Our deeply spiritual experiences with God can be hard work. The Spirit sometimes pushes us to go places that are frightening and painful in order that we may grow in our faith. Last week we recited Wesley’s Covenant prayer in honor of the New Year. Wesley’s prayer pointed out that there are some tasks that God has for us to do that are pleasing and easy. But the prayer also reminded us that if we make God’s will our own, the way will be difficult at times. Our journey in faith doesn’t steer us clear from all pain and suffering. Our faith doesn’t protect us from all loneliness and despair. Our faith doesn’t immunize us from injury, illness, or misfortune. In fact, Christian faith forces us to wrestle even more painfully with temptation and desire and loss. At times, the Holy Spirit pushes us to face discomfort, fear, and pain.

But whatever we face, we know that the Holy Spirit never lets us face it alone. We’ve never been separated from the loving presence of God, and nothing can ever separate us from that love. Our Creator’s joy in us is endless. My parents were always very affectionate and supportive of me when I was growing up. But I don’t think that I fully accepted their love and support for a long time. I worried that my parents might not love me as much if they knew that I was gay. When I went off to college, I received birthday cards filled with words about how proud they are of me and how much they love me. But those cards always felt a little bittersweet to me. I didn’t let myself fully believe it, because they didn’t know all about me. When I finally came out to my parents, their love only grew deeper. Their support of me was even fiercer. Or perhaps more likely, their love and support really didn’t change at all. It was just that I finally allowed myself to fully accept their love and support. True love is not earned. The love of a parent for a child, just like the love of God, starts before we’ve ever had the chance to earn it. At the end of Confirmation Classes this past fall we held a banquet in honor of the three girls who completed the classes. And at the end of the banquet, I asked their parents to say a few words about what it meant to them to see their daughters make very adult decisions about their faith. And for each parent who spoke words of pride and love, there was a daughter in the room cringing in embarrassment. But I think that moment is the most important moment in what we do at Confirmation. I think it’s crucial for a young person who’s becoming an adult to hear her parent say, “I’m proud of you. I love you.” I think it’s crucial for all of us to experience that sort of validation and affection and respect. The love that God holds for us is like that of a loving parent. God claims us and tells us that we make God proud for what’s in our souls. Before we ever knew of God, before we had any concept of ourselves, God was pleased with us and God claimed us. That’s why we baptize infants in the United Methodist tradition, because baptism is a gift God gives us without doing anything to deserve it. That’s why we baptize adults, or anyone else who hasn’t yet been baptized, because no matter how old we are, we’re all always still someone’s child. We’re always God’s child. We’re always longing for that sincere hug, that unconditional kiss on the forehead, that tells us that we’re good and we’re loved. Our God offers us that precious, unqualified, unconditional gift of love. God calls us by name. God knows us as only our Creator can know us. And God tells us that we’re loved, and that we bring God joy.

In the exodus, God led the people through the wilderness to a better place. In Isaiah, God was responsible for returning the exiles to their homeland. By the baptism of the Holy Spirit, Christ assures us that God will travel with us, through whatever wilderness we must pass. Life can be rough. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that we’re loved. But before we ever took our first step, before we ever imagined all that life might bring us, God claimed us as God’s own beloved children. Just like Savana, before any of us did anything to earn God’s love, God called us dear ones, children of God’s own heart, cherished and beloved. It’s not hard to believe that God adores Savana, just like Savana’s mom and grandparents and great-grandparents adore her. And God adores us just the same. Before we ever did anything to deserve God’s praise, God whispered in our ears, “I’m so pleased with you.” May we take comfort in the loving presence of God that came before and endures throughout and will outlast all of the trials of life. Amen.

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