“Be Loved. Be Love. Beloved.”

Sermon on Luke 3: 7-22

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS 

January 10, 2021

Breathe in, breathe out. Be loved. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Be love. 

Breathe in, breath out. Hear this ancient truth descending from the heavens like a dove: “you are my beloved child, with you, I am well-pleased.”

Beloved humans, have you been remembering to breathe this week? Drink water? Turn off the TV or stop the doomscrolling on your phone? Did you call a friend when you needed a listening ear? Cry when you need to? 

These are all good, important things to do (especially breathing, that one’s really important). But I’m going to let you in on a little secret: even IF you are doing all those things, you might still be feeling vaguely unsettled. Or even outright awful. 

Because it’s been a scary week. And I am sharing this sermon with you from Thursday, because that’s when we have to do the pre-recording for worship these days, so I don’t even know what will transpire between now and when you hear this message on Sunday. I hope and pray that there is no more violence. 

As much as we wanted to turn the calendar page to 2021 and leave so many of the bad parts of 2020 behind, it turns out they came right along with us. We are still living through a great national reckoning. We are still watching the last gasps - oh, I hope, please let it be so, O God - of the scourge of white supremacy that has gripped our nation for so long. We are still living in a time when truth is hard to come by because we have grown accustomed to hearing lies upon lies from those who are supposed to be leading the way. We are still living in a world where the environment is abused, xenophobia runs rampant, and the rich hoard so much while the poor die for lack of access to food, clean water, health care, and more. 

Turning the calendar to 2021 did not fix this. The election did not fix this. Even the vaccines, which we are so grateful for, will not fix all that ails us. 

How do we fix this, then? What do we do? 

As people of faith, we begin, I believe, with prayer and worship. Not the empty kind of “thoughts and prayers” that are, too often, used as an excuse for inaction. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about radical prayer and worship that transforms us and transforms the world. The kind of worship and prayer that centers us in love, draws us beyond ourselves, calls us to be co-creators with God of a world that more closely resembles God’s vision for creation. 

When we come to God in worship and prayer, we attune ourselves to God’s heartbeat. We set aside the incessant thrum of nonstop chaos in the world and listen for God’s vision. We do this not simply to escape the world, though taking a break can certainly be a good thing. We do this to be formed. We do this so that we can truly become Christ’s hands and feet in the world. We do this because we believe we are made in God’s image and, as such, are called to return to Love’s heart again and again and again. It is what we were created to do. 

Sometimes this prayer and worship happens when we are alone. Like when you wake up in the morning and before you reach for your phone to check in on the world, maybe you take just a few moments in the dark to attune your heart to God’s heart. Perhaps you hum a favorite hymn or read a psalm. Maybe you just envision yourself being held in the Spirit’s love and notice how good that feels. Maybe your prayers have words and you pray for someone you love, or a stranger, or an enemy. 

And sometimes this prayer and worship happens when we come together. Like we did on Wednesday afternoon when chaos was unfolding in Washington and some of us hopped onto Facebook Live to breathe together, pray psalms together, sing together. We attuned ourselves to God’s heart in that moment as the world was swirling. And if you missed that video, you are very welcome to go back to it anytime you need to find a quiet center. The link to it was in the e-mail that went out Wednesday afternoon and it’s also on our Facebook page. 

Whether we pray and worship alone or with our families….in small groups or the full congregation….in our sanctuary or in the streets...on Zoom or Facebook Live….when we pray and worship we are reminded who we are and whose we are. We are reminded that no matter what chaos befalls us here in this world, we are a part of a bigger story. We belong to God. 

This is the Sunday in the church year when we remember Christ’s baptism by his cousin, John. And I am grateful that this is our text for today because I think this story contains good news that we very much need to be reminded of right now. 

First, this story reminds us that we belong to God. That’s what baptism is all about. It’s a tangible, visceral reminder that we are named by God, claimed by God, created in God’s image, beloved of God. We belong to God always and forever, no tag backs ever. There is nothing we can do to escape God’s love. There is nothing we can do to be rejected by God. There is no place we can go and be separated from God’s presence. 

As the psalmist writes: 

God is our refuge and strength,

   a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,

   though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam,

   though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

 

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

   the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;

   God will help it when the morning dawns.

 

The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;

   God speaks, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

   the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Through our baptism, we are reminded of this truth: we are a part of a much bigger story. We belong to God, who is our refuge and strength. This is good news. 

This story about Christ’s baptism also reminds us of something that might not initially seem to be good news, but really is, I think, and that’s this: sin is real and God is concerned about it. 

John the Baptist is out there in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism for the repentance of sins. John knows that when we humans choose to act in ways that are counter to God’s vision of justice, peace, and love, God is concerned. God sends prophets to remind us that we need to turn ourselves around and get back on a better path. That word “repentance” actually means to turn. To make a different choice. 

And heaven knows we are in need of a lot of repentance right now as a society, aren’t we? We need a turning. We need to confess where we have gone off track and make a commitment to realigning ourselves with God’s vision of love, justice, and peace. We have to tell hard truths about how we have loved violence for too long, worshiped money and power, put our hopes in Empire rather than God. We cannot fix what ails us until we are willing to take a good hard look at it and name it as wrong. That is the first step in repentance, turning to a better way. 

Even though we are a part of a world that has so many problems - even though we are all far from perfect - God has not written us off. God continues to send prophets to speak the words of truth we need to hear, even when it’s not pleasant. Jesus continues to point the way to a better vision of who we can be. And the Spirit descends upon Jesus in this story and abides with us even now. 

This story of Jesus’s baptism is about God’s very real and immanent presence among us here on earth. God sees all our troubles and does not run away. Instead, God draws near. 

God draws near to us with wings of protection and care, descending upon us like a dove. 

God draws near, arriving with prophetic words of justice for the poor and oppressed. 

God draws near, ready to transform. To make the crooked paths straight. To make the rough places smooth. To save - that is, to HEAL - all people. 

Jesus steps into the water and the light bends. Something shifts. 

We begin to see, even if it’s a bit blurry when we first start to look. 

The light is the light for all people. 

You, me, your favorite people, and those you think are beyond saving. 

The light shines upon all of us. Illuminating our imperfections and inviting us to allow God to blow away all that we don’t need. Inviting us to hear the Spirit speaking to us now, “You are my child, the Beloved. With you I am well-pleased.”

May it be so. Amen.