What Do You Call It?

Dear friends,

Every sermon calls on me to confess what I’ve left undone, but I feel that especially acutely this week. May the Spirit of God continue to lead and guide us all as we respond–grounded in grace–to all that happens around and within us.

Here is today’s worship service in its entirety:

If you’d prefer to listen to only the sermon, here it is:

https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson/what-do-you-call-it-a-sermon-for-the-baptism-of-our-lord

Today’s sermon is based on Mark 1:4-11.

⁴John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. ⁵And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. ⁶Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. ⁷He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. ⁸I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
⁹In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. ¹⁰And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. ¹¹And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

 

Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Keaton was late getting out to the car when I picked him up at school on Thursday to head to an orthodontics appointment. Sorry, he said. We were studying alliterations in language. They’re just so fun. They’re the best…He stopped, struggling to come up with the right word. What would you call all those things, Mom? You know, alliteration, metaphors, similes?

Not parts of speech, I thought to myself. Literary devices? No, that doesn’t seem right.

I don’t know, I finally said.

What?!? Keaton asked incredulously. Weren’t you an English major?

I was, dear child. But it was so long ago. And my mind has been filled with so many other words since then. How am I to remember, as Google eventually reminded me, that these things of which you speak are called figures of speech? They just are. Do I really have to remember what they’re called? Do I really have to remember their name?

Later that day I was listening to Minnesota Public Radio as I drove. On All Things Considered, Audie Cornish, Eric Deggans, and David Folkenflik were discussing the television coverage of Wednesday’s events in Washington, D.C. (Read the transcript here.)

Cornish described the broadcast networks’ attempts to deliver the news as a scramble just to find the language to describe what was going on.

Folkenflik responded, That’s right. I think that you saw them initially talking about protesters because the day started with a protest, right? And then it moved to people who were starting to move on the Capitol…You saw debates play out in newsrooms, including our own. Are they protesters still? Are they insurrectionists? Are they rioters? How do you do this? And I think, ultimately, you saw news organizations not casting aside caution, but casting aside self-inflicted restraints to try to capture what their colleagues on the Hill were seeing with their own ears and eyes.

What do you call what happened on Wednesday? Is there a figure of speech that captures what those who were there heard and saw with their own ears and eyes? And what is it called when one person sees the unfolding events one way and another person sees them altogether differently?

At confirmation class on Wednesday night we talked about the baptism of Jesus, as it is described in the gospel of Mark. And we wondered, together, what it would have been like to have been there and to have witnessed the heavens being torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on Jesus. What would it have been like to have been there and to have heard a voice from heaven saying, You are my Son, the Beloved? How would we respond if we witnessed such a thing today? How would the breaking news coverage describe the scene?

We know, as Jesus’ life went on, that not everyone viewed him the same way. Many followed him, looked to him for hope and healing. And many heard him forgiving sins and described him as blasphemous.

Many were thrilled to be welcomed at his table. And just as many were disgusted by him for eating with sinners.

For each one who saw him as the Word of God incarnate, another saw him as flagrantly ignoring God’s word—healing on the Sabbath, declaring all foods clean—and they actually believed him to be not God, but Satan.

Some begged him to stay; others begged him to leave.

Some were in awe of him—astounded beyond measure–and others took offense at him.

Who do people say that I am? Jesus finally asked his disciples. And they answered him as though they were reporters on competing broadcasts. John the Baptist. Elijah. One of the prophets.

But who do you say that I am, he then asked. Peter answered him, You are the Messiah.

Jesus is the Messiah, God’s dream for the world enfleshed and dwelling among us. His name is Beloved and his mission is loving and saving the world. But not everyone saw and heard it that way.

Jesus was a threat to the status quo—a way of being that was just fine for those benefiting from unjust systems that oppressed the poor and the vulnerable. For many, Jesus was the enemy and the one who needed to be put to death before he inspired anyone else to work for justice, to turn the world upside down so that finally the last could be first.

What do we call him? Who do we say that he is?

When we see the heavens being torn apart and the Spirit coming to rest on Jesus, when we hear God’s voice saying, You are the beloved, do we describe the scene as God’s protest against the powers of this world that rebel against God? Do we describe the scene as threatening because it’s dangerous to our own way of being? Or do we describe the scene as welcome relief from all that has bound us and kept us from abundant life?

Maybe we don’t know. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re scrambling for words to make sense of what you’re experiencing. Maybe Jesus is both threat and relief. Maybe God’s Word is both law and gospel—convicting and freeing.

And maybe, what matters most—for Jesus and for us—is not what we call him, not what words we would use to describe the scene, but what God has said and continues to speak still.

You are the beloved.

God calls Jesus Beloved. The Spirit rests on him, compels him, drives him to be God’s love in action in the world…even when it leads some to call him not Beloved, but Blasphemous.

This is worth remembering.

On the day we were baptized, that same Spirit came to rest on us. God names us Beloved. And sometimes, in living out our calling to declare the word of God in word and in deed, to renounce all the powers of this world that rebel against God, to work for justice and peace in all the earth, we too might be called Blasphemous.

But our name is Beloved.

And the name of our enemy is Beloved too.

What do you call this world, filled with beauty and brutality? What do you call this nation, looking more and more broken beyond repair? What do you call our congregations, struggling in ways we never could have imagined?

We don’t need to rely on Google to jog our memories. God speaks clearly this day. You are the Beloved.  In your beauty, beloved. In  your brutality, beloved. In your brokenness, beloved. In your struggle, beloved.  My Spirit rests on you, compels you, drives you to be my love in action. You are beloved.

That is your name.

That is what you are called, today and forever.

You may forget. But God never will.

Beloved.

Amen.