You are well acquainted with my fondness for using some of the
Cathedral’s wonderful art to help bring the scripture readings to life.
I think that the art may do that better than any words of mine! The
readings for this feast of the Baptism of the Lord are a case in point.
The reading from Isaiah
spoke of the human need for God in terms of hunger and thirst, and of
how God alone satisfies our deepest hunger and thirst, God who gives
freely and generously to us, without cost. The reading also
reminded us of how different God’s ways are from our ways (“As high as
the heavens are above the earth, so high are God’s ways above our ways,
and God’s thoughts above our thoughts”). No argument there!
And then,
in wonderfully vivid imagery, Isaiah spoke of the power of God’s Word to
bring new things to life: “For just as from the heavens the rain and
snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth,
making it fertile and fruitful…so shall my word be that goes forth from
my mouth. It shall not return to me void but shall do my will,
achieving the end for which I sent it.” Are you aware that those
words about the power of God’s Word come alive in the intricate carvings
of clouds and rain, trees and leaves on the face of this ambo or pulpit?
If you’ve never taken time to study this work of art, I hope you will.
It’s today’s first reading intricately and beautifully carved in
mahogany….
The Word of God. This
Feast of the Baptism of the Lord is a good time to contemplate that.
God’s Word came alive as never before in the ministry of Jesus which got
its start when he walked into the waters of the Jordan to receive John’s
baptism and heard his Father’s voice proclaim him his beloved Son. And,
my friends, God’s Word came alive in our lives, too - at our baptism -
that grace-filled moment when the waters flowed over us and God
pronounced us beloved sons and daughters.
We should never tire of
returning to that moment; never tire of claiming the birthright that is
ours because of our baptism. And even though most of us know of our
baptism only from family stories or maybe from photographs, or from a
faded, dog-eared certificate, we have ample evidence of our baptism in
the ways God’s grace has worked its wonders in our lives over the years,
including right now. And to keep us from losing awareness of our
baptism, there are ample reminders of baptism throughout this Cathedral
church!
It all starts at the
main entrance back there which - even if it is no longer the entrance
most of us use (and none of us during the pandemic) – it’s still
architecturally and liturgically the point of entrance into the
Cathedral, and it’s where you first meet baptism - on one of the great
bronze doors where the baptism of Christ is beautifully represented.
It’s worthy of a close look and maybe even a touch.
Then, as you move past
the doors and actually enter the cathedral you get another reminder of
baptism at the baptistery itself. It’s squarely in your path as if to
say: stop a moment! Baptism is where it all started for you, so stop
long enough to remember who you are! Sign yourself with the baptismal
waters and be renewed in the knowledge of who you are! (Of course,
during the pandemic we don’t get to sign ourselves with holy water. Do
you miss it? I do. I feel kind of deprived of one of our strongest
symbols).
And it’s a symbol that
gets reinforced by words from the First Letter of Peter, words that are
carved into the marble floor surrounding the font, words that are most
likely from an ancient homily on baptism. For us, they are a powerful
reminder of who we are: “A chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy
nation, God’s own people that (we) may declare the wonderful deeds of
God who called (us) out of darkness into marvelous light.”
Then, when you leave the
baptistry and continue down the aisle, you come to the altar where your
offering and the offering of all the baptized is joined to the perfect
offering of Christ – this altar where simple human gifts of bread and
wine become divine gifts: the very Body and Blood of Christ given for
us. Above the altar, the Last Supper words of Christ are a constant
reminder that we, like the Christ in our midst, are called by our
baptism to serve, not to be served.
And this service to
which we are called is brilliantly portrayed in those great windows in
the east apse of the cathedral. We are called each day to do what those
windows proclaim: feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the
naked, befriend the stranger, care for the sick, and visit the
imprisoned. Why? Because that’s what Christ did, and that’s what our
baptism calls us to do. No wonder, then, that the middle window, which
makes sense of the two outer windows, is the baptism window! At the top,
Christ stands in the waters of the Jordan, John the Baptist on one side,
an angel on the other; below him are pictured two Old Testament stories
where water becomes the path through death to life: Moses leading the
chosen people through the Red Sea from slavery to freedom, and Noah in
his ark, floating over the waters of the Great Flood to safety.
My friends, the feast of
the Baptism of the Lord is a perfect time for us to wake up to our own
Baptism. And if we need reminders – and most of us do - we’ve certainly
got them in this Cathedral! If we need encouragement – and most of us do
- we have each other, for we walk together on this Christian journey.
And if we need empowerment, we have that, too – right here, at the
Lord’s table. “All you who are thirsty, come to the waters! You
who have no money, come, receive grain and eat…Heed me and you shall eat
well: you shall delight in rich fare. Come to me that you may have
life!”
My friends, we have
come. And there is life. Here is life!
Father Michael G. Ryan
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