“This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:17)
I was just playing the soundtrack to the
original London cast of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Sunset Boulevard. As a former actor and one-time denizen of
Hollywood, I really love this musical. There’s a great production number at the
end of the first act which takes place in the apartment of a young assistant
film director. He’s invited all of his young movie-biz friends to a New Year’s
party. They sing a terrific song about their dreams for the future called “This
Time Next Year.” I love this scene because I’ve been to parties just like that one, and I’ve imagined a golden dawn
with a “yellow brick road career” which must be just around the corner. Unfortunately,
that magical tomorrow never seems to come.
So often our hopes for tomorrow run on the
rocks because they’re predicated on the idea that today sucks. Okay. Maybe we’re
not well pleased with the way things are. Maybe we could stand to lose a little
weight, fix a relationship, move to better quarters, start going to the gym, or
improve ourselves by some brilliant and strategic plan.
Then what?
I don’t know about you, but I think I’m just
getting too friggin’ old to make New Year’s resolutions. I’ve arrived at the
point where I have to be grateful for what I’ve got because I don’t know how
much longer I’ll have it. For whatever shortcomings I might have, whatever
dreams might go unfulfilled, whatever ambitions might fall victim to the
harpoon of my proclivity towards procrastination, I can at least say, “I am
baptized.”
Pretty cool, huh? Yeah, the gospel lesson
for the first Sunday after the Epiphany (Matthew 3:13-17) reminds me yet again
that Jesus didn’t mind washing in the dirty bathwater of my sin. I’ll only find
contentment if I can find my identity in being a child of God—of God who is so
well pleased with me that he joined me in human suffering so I can join him in
glory.
Granted, I have a few accomplishments of
which I can boast. On the wall of my office hang my neatly-framed Master of
Divinity diploma, my Urban Ministry Certificate of Study, and my Letter of
Ordination. I also framed a nice congratulatory letter from my bishop sent when
I became the longest-serving pastor in my parish’s history. But along with
those trophies of my achievements I hang my Certificate of Baptism. Those other
samples of scholarly calligraphy might boast about what I’ve done, but my
Certificate of Baptism tells me what was done for me. This is the document which tells me who I am.
Truth be told, in spite of my degrees and
beneath the gorgeous vestments of my office I’m just a lazy, un-ambitious,
error-prone, frequently irritable, frightened sinner. But God has chosen to
make me a beloved child anyway.
Also, if truth be told, I got the idea to
hang my Baptismal Certificate in my office from my home pastor, the late Rev.
Dr. Roger Magnuson, whose Baptismal Certificate hung over his desk. I also
stole the idea of emphasizing baptismal identity form an article by the Rev.
Frank Honeycutt in the January 2017 edition of Living Lutheran. Pr. Honeycutt suggests that we all find and
celebrate the date of our baptisms. I think this is a swell idea. In fact, a
few years ago, I took a good look at the Baptismal Certificate on my office
wall, deciphered the signature of the pastor who had baptized me in 1961 when I
was about a year-and-a-half old, and looked him up. He was still alive, so I wrote
him a letter and received a charming response. He has since passed away, but I
feel more connected to my baptism now because I made the effort to thank the
man who sprinkled me with water and pronounced that I was sealed with the Holy
Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.
So now we start a new year already as new
people. How? Because every day through the remembrance of our baptism, we are
drowned to our sin and made alive again in Christ. Congregations like mine will
hold annual meetings. We’ll lament that we’re short on money, that we need more
volunteers, and that we need to implement new programs. I hope we’ll remember above
all else that we are baptized—that we
bear the name of Jesus who came to us in all righteousness. Let’s celebrate
that, despite all adversity and all of our worries and shortcomings, WE have been
called beloved children. God has trusted us with the treasure of the gospel.
Not only do we believe in God, but we must
believe that God believes in us.
Happy New Year, Church.
P.S.
– If you’re a theater buff but don’t know Sunset Boulevard, you can hear the song I referenced by
clicking here.
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