What We Can Learn by Asking “Who’s Your People?”

The all-important question hard-wired into native South Carolinians’ minds and hearts is “Who’s your people?” Given the wide-flung outposts of ancestral families with convoluted, intermarried trees and branches, variant spellings of surnames, and whether one hails from the Lowcountry, the Midlands, or the Piedmont, but more to the point in these latter days, which side of Lake Murray are we talking about? – asking “Who’s your people?” helps clarify relationships, ways of doing things, and, for Lutherans even the congregations which have impacted our lives. Nevertheless, armed with such relational complexities – Bishop Aull once tried to explain to me the various branches of the SC Aulls (they are legion!) – it is quite likely that once the connections are explained, it still doesn’t mean we’ve gotten the whole picture. “Our people” have formed how we think and into which operative categories and pigeonholes we’re likely to stuff life’s realities. How we are formed can be quite limiting. There is a story (tho’ perhaps simply an old wives tale) floating around about how to cook a ham. One recipe included the vague direction: “Cut off about a 3 inch portion on the end.” For several generations folks in the immediate family followed the handwritten recipe religiously, since this was passed down by Great-grandma Elsa. Indeed, her treasured recipe produced a wonderful dish for the holidays. Finally, several generations later a budding chef in the family dared to ask, “Why cut off that bit on the end?” Beyond the obvious answer of “That’s the way we’ve ALWAYS done it!,” Great-grandma’s youngest sister, now in her nineties, finally revealed the secret: Elsa’s roasting pan was too small to contain a family-sized ham.

The Church itself has often been accused of holding rigidly to its own set of Seven Last Words: “That’s The Way We’ve Always Done It!” Do we really need to lose sleep whether the left altar candle or the other is lit first? (That only makes some sense in Gothic churches with altars firmly against the wall [a.k.a. “walltars”]), when each architectural element and liturgical action was explained in detail as having “spiritual” significance. In churches with free-standing altars (Luther was the first to recommend returning to the free-standing altar; surprise!) such medieval allegory goes out the window (…perhaps this is a chat for another day?). Neither does there need to be identical flower arrangements flanking the altar nor even a separate lectern and pulpit. Uninformed architects and planning committees throw them into new designs because “…that’s the way we’ve always done it!” Remember, Jesus himself spoke of the whole of Scripture having a profound unity which reveals things about his Messiahship [Luke 13:25-27], so why split the first readings from the appointed Gospel architecturally? Choir members tell of a Herr Pastor’s forbidding a hymn or anthem because “…it’s not Lutheran.” On the other hand, the things we do each week which really have central meaning for our faith and mission in the world need to be explained, thought through, and even questioned periodically so that we don’t all succumb to mindless chancel prancing. Such periodic review is good for all of us, autocratic Herr and Frau Pastors included. Also, such an in-depth review of our faith and belief is what we do when we confirm folks – that important process is not a graduation but their own affirmation of the faith into which we baptize and by which they will live their lives. Eric Schmidt has been our most recent witness to the power of such a vitally necessary review process.

Holy Baptism historically has been a victim of our insisting “that’s the way we’ve always done it,” a sure-fire clue that there’s more to the reality of baptism than we can readily articulate or imagine. A close investigation of the New Testament accounts already reveals that Blessed John’s baptism was different than the one which eventually evolved and developed into the prototype of what we will be part of this coming Sunday. John’s baptism primarily was focused on repentance and turning from sin [Mark 1:4: metanoia; “a change of perspective”]. Christian baptism remains the threshold rite of publicly renouncing sin, being baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ [Romans 6:5-11], and thus into the embodied, communal faith of the Church. That is the bottom line if you need one. However, even the New Testament witness reveals a wide-spread diversity and confusion about the details of Holy Baptism, particularly in the early years following Jesus’ own ascension. Upon the Apostle Paul’s arrival in Ephesus, it is reported that he met with the small band of disciples gathering in the city. [Paul_] said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” They replied, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” Then he said, “Into what, then, were you baptized?” They answered, “Into John’s baptism.” Paul said, “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus.” On hearing this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. When Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied, altogether there were about twelve of them_ [Acts 19:2-7]. If you read carefully, you may have paused at yet another point for pondering; these devout Ephesians were baptized “in the name of the Lord Jesus,” the earliest Christian baptismal liturgical formula we know. It took the eventual momentum of St. Matthew’s own witness in the 28^th chapter of his Gospel to shift the practice to the one we will again hear on Sunday: Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Every baptism is cause for the Church’s rejoicing, whether one person comes to the “living water” or the enviable Biblical passage describing one day when …about three thousand persons were added [Acts 2:41]. Pastor Ron’s excitement was understandably palpable last Sunday when he announced that we would be baptizing an “adult” Chinese man, a good friend of friends of our own congregation. This is indeed cause for great rejoicing. Nevertheless, yet again we need to pause, for here is also a point to ponder. Announced as a Chinese “adult” man, we readily understood that this is a rare event for us, yes indeedy do!!! I dare say we assume any adult baptized in our midst is likely a rare event, and this might well be the way our own formation has limited our faithful imaginings – folks in our tradition don’t tend to baptize adults, do they? We specialize in babies who are cute, squirm, yell, and start crying when water hits them – be honest, it is a Hallmark ® moment frequently commented on after a baby’s baptism. Instead, what would be helpful is to probe the reasons for our surprise about a card-carrying, grown-up adult at the font (or that the font isn’t adult size), and ask if we’ve been missing out on a lot of God’s enthusiastic partying with the blessed.

In fact, folks’ understanding of Holy Baptism has been turned upside down since those first disciples came to the water for baptism, thereby limiting our vision of who God welcomes into the family of faith. The Gospel accounts are predominately focused on the transition from John’s baptism of repentance to Christ’s own baptism, a Trinitarian epiphany on the banks of the Jordan. John himself proclaims, I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire [Matthew 3:11]. Jesus’ own baptism immediately follows, variously reported and by Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Thereafter, following Jesus’ own passion predictions, suffering, death, and resurrection, Holy Baptism emerges as God’s way of clothing and refashioning dripping disciples with the reality of Christ’s death and resurrection, fired by the Spirit’s power. In the same way Jesus’ first was proclaimed God’s beloved, so too are all who follow Jesus’ path through baptismal waters. Interesting, the earliest reports are entirely about adults, it seems, until Christian communities are described in the Acts of the Apostles and the various apostolic letters to the wide-flung fledgling churches. The predominance of adults moved to repentance and being baptized is, in fact, quite logical. There wasn’t yet established congregational practices, no Sunday School or Cradle Roll, no Confirmation, or Luther League – simply adults who had heard Jesus, or heard about him, or maybe had been listening to the proclamation of his apostles as they traveled farther and farther afield. Finally, an interesting encounter is described far later in the Acts of the Apostles which begins to fill in later developments in baptism.

The Apostles Paul, Silas, and Timothy have embarked on their missionary journey like the others. Their travels are described in Acts 16: ¹¹ We therefore set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, ¹² and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. Their evangelizing zeal lands Paul and Silas in jail (remember: all disciples have been clearly warned of the difficulties they might well encounter!) which does not in the least stop them from fervently praying and singing in their cell. The witness of their faith serves to convert the jailer, who asks: “…Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” ³¹ They answered, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” ³² They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. ³³ At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. It is the power of the jailer’s faith in Jesus which was capable of forming his “household,” leading to the baptism of “his entire family.” The phrase almost certainly would have included women and children and even his servants and slaves, if any. However, it took George Raymond Beasley-Murray’s 1962 landmark study, Baptism in the New Testament and the Early Church to point out the obvious: While there is no clear proof that children and infants were regularly baptized in the New Testament, by 300 CE Christians communities were baptizing whatever the age. In summary, for the New Testament and beyond adult baptism remains normative, but the baptism of children and infants is its appropriate derivative, the relational action of including one’s whole family within the Spirit-graced care of God’s benevolence and welcome. While Reformation era Christians bickered and fumed over “Believer’s Baptism,” that is in large part due to an inappropriate equating of faith and belief. Faith remains the awareness of loving, abiding relationship, whether expressed in welcoming adults to fellowship through baptism or caring for infants until they are nurtured and old enough to confirm their faith sparked long before. Belief is the secondary reflection on the power of faith in one’s life from childhood’s earliest memories on. Over the centuries the Church has collected and codified those faith-experiences as Creedal statements and theological tenets. Meanwhile, faith remains, as Luther once said, “a busy, active thing…” whenever it first ignites. Thanks be to God for such mind-boggling welcome, hospitality, and empowerment!