October 11, 2015: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.

This is a joyous day, because we will celebrate the first of several baptisms in the coming weeks. Today, Leighton Eila Willoughby will be baptized into the household of God. Of course, we hope that isn’t as stressful an idea for her siblings, Gracen and Jude, as it was for one little kid; who, after the christening of his baby brother in church, sobbed all the way home in the back seat of the car. His father asked him three times what was wrong. Finally, the boy blurted out, “That preacher said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home, but I want to stay with you guys.” Kids, right?

Now, this gospel passage might not seem like a really good one for baptism – but what a great one for Stewardship season, right? I know our Vestry and Stewardship team – well, and just about every pastor – is thinking – how awesome is this! I mean, Jesus tells a rich guy to go give away all his possessions to the poor. Perfect timing. And to be sure, this is a text that has inspired some to make some incredible changes in their lives regarding money, and perhaps some of you will be called to do that, but that is not all that it is saying.

It is often said that this passage is about a spiritual release of burdens, not money, because of the whole “eye of the needle” thing Jesus uses. He said “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” The eye of the needle was a name for the gate in Jerusalem, and no camel could get through without first unloading all that it was carrying. There is great truth to that, and some of what Jesus is talking about here is related to this idea of letting go of the things that weigh us down. But that is a sermon for another day, because on this day, when we celebrate the baptism of the newest member of the body of Christ, we can see that Jesus is talking about something else too.

It is easy, and often done, to view this man as a greedy rich man, but Jesus didn’t – and neither should we. Jesus saw something in him, something that he didn’t understand in himself, and the text says that after he told Jesus that he had kept all the commandments since he was young, that Jesus looked at him…and loved him.

Jesus loved him. He loved this man, who sought him out. This man with many possessions, but who seemed to get that something was still missing in his life, and went to Jesus to try to find out what more he could do. There must have been something in the purity of his heart, perhaps his deep yearning, that moved Jesus. This man was a seeker…but when he found what he was seeking, what his heart had been yearning for all his life, it was more than he could bear. It broke his heart.

Riches were in those days a sign of being blessed by God – an outwardly demonstrative measure of this man’s relationship with God – and Jesus is telling him to give it all away. Essentially, all that he knew to be true about how to be in relationship with God was being shattered to the core. This man believed, as did so many in his day, and in ours, that being in relationship with God was about going to the temple for services and following the law of God.

Jesus is telling him it is about far more than that – discipleship isn’t a checklist of things to do, but an identity we gain in baptism. Hard to sell in this day when we stop into church for an hour or so a week…this idea of community, family, being a part of being a disciple… But that is what being a Christian is all about – it isn’t about checking off a items on a to-do list (though there are things we are called to do, and ways of being we are called to live out).

This man, this seeker, found what he was looking for, but his identity was so tied to something else, that his heart grieved over the prospect of all that he would lose – never realizing that, as Jesus makes clear to Peter, that he is already lost if he believes that his possessions define who he is.

Now, I love Peter, particularly here in this passage. I mean, you can almost hear the snarkiness coming through when Jesus is talking about people only being saved by God, and not by what they have or don’t have. “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” In other words, “what more could you possibly want?” But Jesus is telling Peter, just as he did the young seeker, that all that we believe defines us, all that we may be afraid to lose, is of humanity, not of God. And, in losing that, we lose nothing, but in losing what is of God, we lose everything.

This passage is not so much about money as it is about identity.

We claim identity all the time in our lives – by our job, our marriage, our children – father, mother, daughter, son, grandparent, teacher, construction worker, executive….but the one that never changes-beloved child of God – which doesn’t mean that everything will be rosy and fun… Don’t forget that Jesus added to the list of wonderful things about being his follower that little bit about “persecutions” – but it does mean that there is always hope, always love, always family, always a core identity. And that is so important in the world today where others – people, corporations, governments – bombard us daily with their attempts to define us. And so, perhaps, Jesus would ask us today, the question he wanted to know from Peter about what folks were saying about him. “Who do you say that you are?” Or put another way, what is it that you believe defines you? How do you construct your identity?

I was lecturing this past week in two business classes at Montclair State University where I am a chaplain. I could see the look some of the students gave to me and their professor when I entered the room in my clerical collar, and I imagined them wondering what a priest might know about the world of business. And after telling a few war stories of my business past, I connected the dots for them… whether I was a Vice President, or managing an international project as a consultant to a global firm, or a priest in the Episcopal Church, one thing was constant, and I had to learn it along the way…that my church life and my work life and my personal life were not separate identities, neatly compartmentalized, but multiple expressions of a single identity – as a beloved child of God. All that I did in all the ways I lived my life would never change that – but it would change how I felt about the world, and how the world felt about me and the faith that I professed. I could not go to church on Sunday and claim to be a follower of Jesus, and then do harm to others at work, load up on possessions without regard to those with nothing, turn a blind eye to the stranger, and ignore the marginalized. I implored them, as the next generation of those in business, to always remember that business is always personal, and the people are always the most important business we have in life.

Most of us, I believe, try to live a life of meaning, but like the man in the gospel, we can lose sight of what is important, and begin to build a life we may not recognize if we gave it a really good look. But what if we had a chance to see our lives as others see it? What if we read our own obituary? One man did.

“One morning in 1888 Alfred Nobel, inventor of dynamite, awoke to read his own obituary. The obituary was printed as a result of a simple journalistic error. You see, it was Alfred’s brother that had died and the reporter carelessly reported the death of the wrong brother. Any man would be disturbed under the circumstances, but to Alfred the shock was overwhelming because he saw himself as the world saw him. The “Dynamite King,” the great industrialist who had made an immense fortune from explosives. This, as far as the general public was concerned, was the entire purpose of Alfred’s life. None of his true intentions to break down the barriers that separated humanity and ideas for peace were recognized or given serious consideration. He was simply a merchant of death. And for that alone he would be remembered. As he read the obituary with horror, he resolved to make clear to the world the true meaning and purpose of his life. This could be done through the final disposition of his fortune. His last will and testament–an endowment of five annual prizes for outstanding contributions in physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and peace (the sixth category of economics was added later)–would be the expression of his life’s ideals and ultimately would be why we would remember him, especially in these last few weeks as the awardees for 2015 were announced. The [result of his life] was the most valuable of prizes given to those who had done the most for the cause of world peace. It is called today, the “Nobel Peace Prize.”

Alfred Nobel had a chance to see what others see. The man in the gospel had it too. He came in search of eternal life, and Jesus gave him an answer that, were he to embrace it, would change his life in ways unimaginable to him – or perhaps, imaginable, but sadly too costly, because for this man, wealth had become something so tied to his sense of self, he could not bear to part with it – it was greater to him than life itself. In a sense, this man was already dead, and perhaps that is why Jesus felt such love for him, and wanted to help him. To be clear, Jesus doesn’t tell every wealthy person he meets to give up all that they have to follow him. There are other accounts where that was not asked of them. That’s because this wasn’t about money, but about what money was to this particular man, and how it was defining him.

It is also a gospel for all of us. We need to think about our own identity as a child of God, and how we live that out in the world. And for Christians, our identity is rooted in baptism.

That’s why baptism is this really radical experience!

A seminary professor said, “When baptism is a wilderness experience, an unexpected entrance of God, and a little terrifying, well then, we will know the meaning of baptism according to Mark.”[1]

I love that quote, because we sometimes think of baptism as some sort of baby shower for infants, when it is really a life changing experience that carries with it an identity that changes us. It is transformative, this life in Christ.

When we are baptized, we are baptized into something. We are not baptized into Christ Church, or even the Episcopal Church. For Christians, we speak of one faith, one baptism (even if we still argue about that from time to time across denominations). And by one faith, we mean one Christian faith united through all expressions of it, not that Christianity is the only path to God. We enter into this faith, this Body of Christ, in baptism. And this outward and visible sign of baptism of God’s inward and spiritual grace marks us forever. We are given an identity that is ours always.

Later, when Leighton is older, she can make the decision for herself if this is the expression of faith that best brings her into the fullness relationship with God, or not. Many times I hear parents tell me that they want their children to grow up and decide on their own what to believe, and I applaud their desire to have their children think and act for themselves. Baptism doesn’t change that, but what it does do is give that child a great gift.

Baptism brings you into a family, creates an identity not based on status, weath, possessions, but on heart, community, love, and God. And for a child growing up, church is often the only place where they are not judged by their clothes, looks, athletic ability, or grades. It is a safe and sacred space where their identity is always as a beloved child of God – loved beyond measure.

And for adults, the church should be the same thing for all of us – and if it is not – then we, like that man in the gospel – have lost our way, and must work to change it. Jesus loved that man because he at least came in search of what God wants for him, seeking to be what God needed him to be. But when he realized it would require a transformation that would cost him, it was more than he could bear. I think that we can look back on that man with compassion, because today, many people are the man. Because many of us seek God, but what we want to find, isn’t necessarily what God is offering.

“Tim Hansel in his book When I Relax I Feel Guilty, writes some insights of what most people want from God. 

”I would like to buy $3.00 worth of God, please. Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine. I don’t want enough of [God] to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not transformation; I want the warmth of the womb, not a new birth. I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack. I would like to buy $3.00 worth of God, please.” 

If we would be totally honest, the idea of transformation really scares us. [Perhaps it] is because we know that such a radical change would be […] uncomfortable. We realize that with transformation comes a major overhaul of our lives and priorities.

”[2]

On this day when we welcome Leighton into this transformational experience of baptism, let us all consider the ways in which Jesus is telling us to let go of what we believe to be important, and to lay claim to our identity as a member of the body of Christ. May we seek God’s grace with the intentionality of the man in the gospel, and respond to Christ’s call not with grieving hearts but with joyful expectancy, knowing that all we give to God is given back to us, and to all who come to know God through us, beyond measure.

Amen.

[1] Karoline Lewis, Luther Seminary.

[2] From a sermon by Scott Chambers, The Mission if You Accept it: Transformation, 2/15/2011

For the audio of the sermon from the 10:30am service, click here:

The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox

Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge

October 11, 2015

Pentecost 20 – Year B – Track 1

1st Reading – Job 23:1-9, 16-17

Psalm 22:1-15

2nd Reading – Hebrews 4:12-16

Gospel – Mark 10:17-31