And in the temple of the Lord, all are crying, ‘Glory!’” (Psalm 29)​

Turn, if you will, to the text of today’s psalm, either in the leaflet or on page Today’s psalm, or on page 620 of the Prayer Book: I want to show you something really neat about this particular text. Psalm 29, you see, should really resonate with us New Mexicans, for it is a description of a summer thunderstorm: the kind that blow in from the west here in ABQ, pass over the city, and then disappear over the Sandias. In the case of the psalm, the poem describes a storm moving from in from the waters of the Mediterranean, passing over the land of Israel, and then dissipating over the desert to the east.
So have a look at the text: the psalm begins by ascribing to the Lord glory and strength, in a kind of lull before the storm, acknowledging that the whole creation is a revelation of his strength and beauty. Then in verse 3, “the voice of the Lord” is heard in the distance, far out upon the waters, the sound of thunder beginning to move toward the dry land. As the storm moves closer, its sound grows in intensity: by verse 4 the storm has become truly powerful, a voice of splendor that rattles the earth.
Suddenly the storm is upon us, and even the strong cedar trees are broken by the ferocity of its winds. The mountains themselves are made to skip like terrified animals by the storm’s intensity. Lightening bolts drop down as flames of fire, and the crash of the thunder shakes the wilderness. Now even the sturdy oak trees writhe in the wind and the rain … and the people, contemplating this display of God’s might, can only cry “Glory!, Glory!”, huddled inside the temple against the violence of the storm.
And then, the storm passes, and the psalmist is able to draw courage from the experience, knowing that the Lord who has displayed his power and might through the storm, is also the same Lord who will give strength to his people, and the blessing of peace.
It’s a powerful work of poetry, isn’t it? So what, we may ask, has it to do with us today, and with the occasion of baptism?
Well, I’d like to link it to a single line in the Baptismal Covenant, where we will be asked, “How will you respond to the creation around you?” This is one of the six questions that are part of the Covenant that I like to call the “so what?” questions—questions that help to flesh out the implications of what we affirm as our faith in the recitation of the Apostles’ Creed which makes up the first part of the Covenant. Okay: so you believe in God, in Jesus, and in the Holy Spirit: so what?
What is particularly important about this last question regarding creation, however, is that today is the first time we are including care for creation as one of the “so what” questions: in the past there had been only five questions. The insertion of this sixth question was made at last year’s General Convention, sponsored by my own former Diocese of Connecticut. And given the concern which we have in our day for the environment and the future of the natural world around us, that’s a big addition. But let’s push right past that church talk and get to the larger issue of why one would ask about commitment to the creation, as part of baptism?
Well, in the very first line of the Baptismal Covenant we begin by affirming our faith in a God who is “creator of heaven and earth,” evoking the account in Genesis of God’s creation of all things. You will remember that the last thing God creates in that story is humankind (a.k.a. Adam and Eve), and that in giving them dominion over the earth, God also lays down a limitation: they are not to eat of the fruit of the tree of life.
From the very beginning, in other words, humanity is warned against assuming that everything is simply available for their consumption: the created world has boundaries and restraints that are necessary to protect and sustain the well-ordered world which God created. It is when Adam and Eve fall into thinking that they have a right to anything they want, and they eat of the forbidden fruit, that all the trouble begins.
So back to the question posed to us today: how will we respond to the creation around us? With the inclusion of this question, the baptismal covenant reminds us that at the heart of Christian faith is a keen awareness that we live within a created order that not only sustains us and our needs, but also demands our care and attention. We cannot, in other words, regard nature a if it were simply there for our unlimited use and exploitation. Like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, we have limits, and we disobey them not only at our peril, but at the peril of the well-being of the garden itself.
Jesus’ own baptism, which we celebrate today, is a reminder and renewal of this dimension of our creation. By being baptized, Jesus demonstrates that he is not just a sort of ghostly figure, walking around in our midst but not essentially flesh and blood. No, by engaging in the public rite of baptism—washing with water—he insists upon the full human, bodily nature of who he is, and that through him God is identified with the physical creation. Matter, matters. Nature, matters. Creation, matters. We can’t just ignore the demands that it places upon us.
And so when in our own baptismal covenant we now affirm a care and concern for the created world around us, we acknowledge both the gift that creation is, but also the restraints that it imposes upon us. Like Jesus, we take responsibility for the physicality of our own being, recognizing that it ultimately depends upon the care that we take of the physical world around us.
So next time someone asks you why you have a concern for the environment—however that manifests itself in you—tell them it’s because of your baptism. That’s sure either to be a conversation starter (or perhaps a show stopper), but at least it will put the discussion in the right register: it’s because we believe in God, creator of heaven and earth, whose glory and might and power is like that of a dramatic thunderstorm in the hot, dry desert of New Mexico. Amen.
 
 
© Joseph Britton 2016
 

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January 8, 2012
The Baptism of Our Lord
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor

Today we begin the season of Epiphany. This season starts with the baptism of Jesus, and ends with his transfiguration on the mountaintop. It is obviously one story, because the beginning and the end are in direct parallel.

When he is baptized, a voice from heaven speaks to Jesus - You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased. Later, at the transfiguration, when Jesus is gloriously changed into a being of light, the same voice says the same thing, this time to the disciples - This is my Son, the Beloved.

So the Epiphany season tells a story about Jesus’ self-understanding, and later, the disciples’ understanding, of who he is: God’s beloved, God’s own offspring. This is the foundation of all his teaching, healing, and working of miracles: he does what he does because knows who he is.

During this season, in between the beginning of this story and its fulfillment, we shall see Jesus calling disciples into that same self-understanding. They go out to heal, feed, teach, and love, because they now know who they are. And through the disciples’ ministry, the people then begin to understand that they, too, are beloved children of God.

So God extends the divine life into Jesus, Jesus extends it into his disciples, and the disciples extend it into the people. It is all one ever-expanding circle.

The Western Christian tradition, however, has largely ignored this message over the centuries. It has drawn back the circle of divine life, and limited it to Jesus alone. We have been told that he alone is the Son, and that we are sinners through and through, cut off from God. But if we attach ourselves to Jesus, he will take us by the hand, and grant us admission to the divine life.

In this version of the Christian story, we’re like unfashionable slobs standing in line at the most exclusive nightclub in town, with no hope of getting past the bouncer, until some supermodel comes along and sweeps us in the door along with her.

The Eastern Church, on the other hand, has always understood that the divine life is an ever-expanding circle. They speak of theosis, of being “deified,” and rely upon a number of New Testament texts which point to this.

In John, Jesus prays for his disciples: As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us...The glory that you have given me I have given them. Paul speaks of being baptized into Christ, and that It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. Paul has been deified. He goes on to say that We have the mind of Christ, that we will grow into the full stature of Christ, in whom the fulness of divinity dwells. He tells us that corporately, We are the body of Christ. And Peter, one of Jesus’ closest disciples, wrote that We are participants in the divine nature.

This is what we celebrate in baptism. In the waters of baptism, we accept our identity as participants in the divine nature, and we commit to a holy life, so that through us, others may also know themselves as part of God’s ever-expanding circle.

Now I suspect that you may not always feel glorious. You may not always feel deified. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. It only means that you don’t always feel what is true. So how can we claim this identity? How can it become a living reality for us, and not just a nice idea?

We learn through experience. And the experience that is relevant here is what sometimes happens in prayer, among people you love, in worship and friendship with one another here, through spiritual reading, in nature, in any situation in which you have known God’s presence. Those are the times when we know that all of life is an expression of God’s holiness, including us.

However we seek this experience, whenever we intentionally put ourselves in the kinds of situations where we might remember this, we are doing what is known as spiritual practice. I don’t care whether what you do is formal prayer or not. What matters is that we are intentional about it. For those who knock, the door will be opened.

As you experience this from time to time, I want to encourage you to believe in it. Have confidence in who you really are - you are already connected with God. You are beloved, just as you are, a manifestation of God’s life. It is your true nature. You don’t have to strive to get there; you’re already fully there.

And every time you do some form of spiritual grounding, you reinforce your awareness of who you are. You touch base with reality, and over time, like Jesus, like the disciples, this deepest reality becomes the foundation of your daily life. Because you know who you are, as you go about your business, as you interact with others, you are more likely to love, to heal, to be patient, grateful, and self-giving.

We are certainly not perfect. We sin, we become unhappy and self-centered, and we cause harm. But this is only the small self, the part of us that can be put in perspective, the part that can, over time, become weaker, losing its grip over us. Place your trust instead in your true nature. You were assured of this nature at baptism, when a voice from heaven said to you,You are my beloved; with you I am well-pleased.

I also want to encourage you to have the very same confidence in the community of faith. We are not just an ecclesiastical institution. We are the Body of Christ, an embodiment of the divine life. You can experience this if you just look around with the eyes of faith.

We are not a perfect community. But together, every day, we express God’s own love and holiness to one another, to perfect strangers who come across our doorstep. God is manifested when we celebrate the sacraments, when we share our struggles with one another and encourage one another in faith, when we serve and pray for others. Together we invoke the saints and angels and the glory of God in this holy place of worship. We truly are, as Jesus said, the light of the world.

When we have confidence in who we are, when we reinforce this experience through spiritual practice, alone or together, it changes us. We live as if we are an extension of the divine life. We act as if this is true. As St. Paul said in a letter to the Colossians:

If you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is...Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God...As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience...Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body.

We are God’s beloved, whose divine life extends through us, through our community, in an ever-widening circle, touching others who need it as much as we do. And then they, by the grace of God, also know themselves to be a part of this vast theosis, this redemption of the world, where all things are being brought to their fulfillment.

Today, you will be invited to take a small stone from the baptismal font, and carry it with you in the weeks ahead. Use it as a touchstone, to remember who you are, who we are, and the life to which we are called. Have confidence. For we are the light of the world.

St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Sunday January 9, 2011 I Epiphany – Baptism of our Lord
Preacher: Christopher McLaren
Text: Matthew 3:13-17
Title: The Beautiful Words of God

Today we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River by his cousin Johnny B. It is a familiar story as all of the evangelists tell it in one way or another.  The gospel writer of Mark makes Jesus’ baptism the very first thing, skipping the birth narratives of Jesus altogether. Mark tells of Jesus’ baptism in a breathless and fast paced way focusing on the heavens being ripped open and the Spirit descending on Jesus like a dove only to drive him out into wilderness for testing.

The Gospel of John is so shy and furtive about Jesus’ baptism that he does not mention the baptism of Jesus at all. It might leave the wrong impression and impinge on Jesus’ purity to have him knee deep in mud, standing in line with the rest of ordinary sinful humanity for a sacred bath by the wild prophet Johnny B. So John tells the story a bit slant, proclaiming that he saw the Spirit alight on Jesus like a dove but he fails to mention that the mud of the Jordon was squishing between his toes at the time.

Matthew’s telling of Jesus’ baptism on the other hand is quite robust. We are told of Johnny B’s ministry among sinners, we are told of his colorful ways, and in a real way we are unsettled by his message. “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

But when Jesus showed up at the river, he didn’t look all that scary. He wasn’t juggling fire or carrying dangerous weapons. He was just a humble gentle carpenter from the backwaters of Judea whom God has chosen and sent as his own beloved Son. He was the one upon whom the Spirit would rest and through whom God would work healing in the world.

But why was Jesus there in the first place? John’s baptism was for the repentance of sins and he attracted some serious riff raff to his baptismal outpost. Oh there thieves and extortionists, religious snobs, cheats of all kinds, violent and shifty sorts, white collar criminals and people who had simply made a lot of bad choices and were hoping for a new start. But, why was Jesus there? By all accounts it was his manner of life, declared to be sinless that set him apart from most everyone. The gospel writers are at pains to point out that Jesus didn’t have any reason to repent and be baptized yet almost all of the gospels, in one way or another, admit that Jesus was in fact baptized by John in the Jordan.  It is a bit of scandal really that Jesus was baptized, some feel that he should have just taken over the franchise from Johnny B.  saying :cuz, you’ve done a great job with this and I can take it from here.” But no, Jesus got in the same line as every other sorry sinner and submitted to the same cleansing ritual that everyone else was embracing.  He wasn’t interested in standing on the sidelines looking holier than thou. He wasn’t interested in taking over the family baptismal business. In fact, he wasn’t really interested in grabbing power or notoriety. He seemed more interested in following God’s way wherever it led, to the muddy waters of the Jordan or to a cross at the city garbage dump outside Jerusalem.

So, when Jesus arrived at the Jordan River to where his cuz Johnny B. was baptizing, they engaged in a friendly but intense theological debate about who should be baptizing whom. “Please you first, no, no after you.” “No really should baptize me, oh well ok” John finally gave in and performed the baptism of Jesus.  It was evidently, the absolutely right thing for John to do, because as Jesus emerges from the waters, the heaven seem to open, for a moment. the clouds parted and something beautiful like a white bird, but more importantly something from God anointed Jesus. And a voice was heard saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

What an affirmation! What beautiful words! What acceptance! If you’re like me these are words you would love to hear personally. Just to hear that you are loved, accepted, that your very person is pleasing to someone, especially God would meet a deep spiritual need. These beautiful words came to Jesus and not just from his cousin but from heaven.  What had Jesus done that was so pleasing to God? This was the very beginning of his call to public ministry and the only thing he’d really done was say yes to God, but that is no small thing. Oh, and one more thing, and perhaps the one that holds the biggest importance for us, he had joined humankind in the waters of the Jordan. He did not stay aloof or ask to supervise from the bank, no he joined all of humanity in the mud of the Jordan and the response from heaven was pleasure. “You are my beloved son and I am very pleased.”

Many theologians have pointed out that these beautiful words were not only beautiful but that they proclaimed something powerful about Jesus’ purpose. If you look closely at the words, “You are my beloved son” and “with you I am well pleased,” you discover that both of them are quotes from scripture itself. It is as if God is quoting his own book.  The beloved son part which comes right out of psalm 2 was a coronation song for a king. The second part of the beautiful words “with you I am well pleased” come from the prophet Isaiah which we read a few minutes ago in our older testament reading. The words are part of a very important description of God’s suffering servant, who will heal the world not by force but by sacrificial love.  The incredible thing is that if you put these two things together a beloved king and a suffering servant  you end up with a  wonderful description of who Jesus is and of what his purpose is among us. In fact, the whole baptismal scene is a kind of early press conference, a public announcement of what the life and ministry of Jesus is to be all about. Jesus is the servant king.

The baptism of Jesus by John is a window into what God is doing in Jesus. It is a liminal moment in which an ordinary carpenter from Galilee embraces the life of God by entering the muddy waters of the Jordan. When he emerges from those waters, he is no longer just a carpenter, he has become God’s person in a new way.  He is, to be sure, the same person, but his life is taking a new direction. Johnny B said that his baptism was for repentance and in a strange way this is true for Jesus as well. His life is taking a turn and that is the basic way to understand repentance – to turn around and go a different direction, God’s direction.  In a surprising way Jesus did repent. He entered those waters a peaceful obscure peasant and emerged from them a rabbi who would change the world.

The transformation that happens to Jesus is powerful. He enters the water his own person, a private man from Galilee and he comes out of the water God’s person and now a public person at the center of spiritual controversy that accompanies his whole life of teaching and building a new kind of community.

The transformation that happens to Jesus is not an isolated event. It is the same thing that happens to us in our baptism and in our common life of worship here each week. Just as Jesus’ baptism made him God’s person in the world so claiming our own baptism makes each of us God’s person in the world, God’s public person. Our spiritual life is personal but never private. We are baptized and renew our own baptismal vows in public, because we are intended to be God’s people in the world.

When we confess our sins here, we do not simply confess our own personal sins. Rather we kneel and talk to God about the sins of all humankind – all the damaging things that we, as a people have done or failed to do. We admit to all the ways that we run from the love of God because we are sometimes so afraid to be known, to be changed, to grow into the likeness of Christ.  When we celebrate and give thanks for the gift of new life in our midst we do not do that only for ourselves either. We give thanks and rejoice will all of those who were lost and have been found. We delight in all those who have discovered hope in the midst of despair, light in the midst of darkness, healing in the midst of pain, life in the very midst of death. The truth is that our spiritual practice is not meant to be a private matter just between us and God. It is meant to be good news for all of God’s creation. Just like Jesus wading into the waters of the Jordan alongside all of humanity, so our worship is something we do in solidarity with all humankind as well.

If you listen to the baptismal promises, the heart of our faith, with you will notice how public these vows really are, how connected they are to all our human brothers and sisters. “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself.”  “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?’

The truth is that just as Jesus became God’s person publicly, so we too are God’s public people.  Together and in full view of the world we say, that we will be God’s people in the world by following the ways of God found in Jesus. We never say that it will be easy or that we will become wealthy or prosperous because of our choice to repent and follow God’s ways.

What we do know is that in doing so we are in good company because Christ has gone this way before us. Christ entered the muddy waters of the Jordan because he desired to come to us where we are at, not demand that we come to him. Why did he do it?  Because Christ loves us, that is why and because he is so pleased with us and loves humanity enough to join us in the water and mud and mess of life, to join us in the flesh to show us God’s ways in person.

And what is more, we find that when we become God’s person in the world, when we embrace what we believe to be this truthful and living giving way of God no matter how difficult, there are moments when we too hear a voice clearly speaking to us those beautiful words, “You are my beloved daughter, you are my beloved son and with you I am well pleased.

I wish to acknowledge my debt to the writings of Barbara Brown Taylor and William Willamon on the baptism of John in preparing this sermon.  In becoming God’s person in the world may each of us hear those beautiful words, “You are my beloved and with you I am well pleased.”

January 10, 2010
The Baptism of our Lord
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor

Today is the feast of the Baptism of our Lord, and we have just heard the story of Jesus being cleansed in the water of the Jordan, the fire of the Holy Spirit came upon him from heaven, and he was sent forth to serve God in the world, as Messiah. 

That’s our story, too: we are purified by God, fired up in the Spirit, and sent forth to serve. So it’s a good day to baptize children and an adult at two of our services. For in this feast we’re celebrating not only Jesus’ baptism; we’re celebrating our baptismal life, a lifestyle of cleansing, renewing, and going out of ourselves into ministry. 

Recently, ministry has been much on my mind: the ministries of deacons, priests, bishops, but most importantly, lay people. And so this morning I’d like to give you a kind of state of the parish report on ministry. First, ordained ministry. 

We’ve just passed a year since Fr. Daniel Gutierrez’ ordination to the priesthood, and a year and a half since Judith Jenkins’ ordination as a deacon. 10 days ago Deacon Jan Bales transferred to volunteer status, and hopefully, more freedom in how she balances the ministry she chooses to do here and her personal and family life. 

On Wednesday, Deacon Judith and I will be going to Texas to take part Patricia Riggins’ ordination to the priesthood, at long last. Judith and Daniel and I were reminiscing about how 3½ years ago the three of them first went to the diocese for approval to go forward towards ordination. Patricia ended up having to go to another diocese, because of some muddy waters around here. But she persevered, and Bishop Mathes of San Diego came through for us. 

Patricia is one of 4 women over the last 20 years who have had to take the same circuitous route from this parish to the priesthood: Julie Graham, Susan Allison-Hatch, Johnette Shane, and Patricia. One can’t help but see a pattern. I hope that things are easier when we elect a new bishop this year. 

This fall the parish Discernment Guild, and then your Vestry, unanimously agreed to put forward Randy Elliott for consideration by the diocese as a deacon. Randy happens to be a gay, partnered man, and has chosen to wait until our new bishop is in place before he approaches the diocese. 

Speaking of whom, in a week the diocesan search committee will be announcing the nominees for the election of our next bishop, which will take place in April. Frankly, my prayer is that God will give us the grace to find and choose a person who will help this diocese mature. For many years, we have desperately needed a more contemporary, intelligent, creative, inclusive, and professional atmosphere in this diocese, and this starts with leadership. 

Finally, in the January issue of the Angelus, our newsletter, you may have seen a letter from our Vestry to the diocese, urging them to consent to the election of Mary Glasspool, a partnerned lesbian woman, as an assisting bishop in the diocese of Los Angeles. 

All of this is about ordained ministry, and there is much to be thankful for, much to be concerned about, and much to pray for and work towards. St. Michael’s is a community that, despite the odds, has fostered many remarkable ordained vocations. It is a community that has attracted about a dozen retired and non-stipendiary clergy who choose to be a part of parish life here. And it is a community that will continue to discern with women and men whether they are called to ministry as deacons or priests. 

But the really important ministry is lay ministry. You are 98% of the church. Clergy may provide some of the leadership and support and theological grounding, but you also teach and pastor, lead liturgy, serve the suffering, gather people for spiritual formation, imagine the future with God, and give your time, talent, and treasure to make that future possible. Everything happens because of you. 

In 3 weeks, at our Annual Parish Meeting, we plan on sharing with you a vision for developing lay ministry in the parish. In its depth and scope, it is unlike anything we have done here before. 

I believe that the Holy Spirit has been building this vision, and I hope that you will find it not only challenging, but very exciting. I think it will be the beginning of a new era in the history of our parish. I won’t reveal the details of this vision today – for that, you’ll have to come to the Annual Meeting on January 31. But I can paint a general picture. 

As you know, we have been quite occupied over the last few years with two things. One has been the very practical work of architectural design and fundraising for our Ministry Complex. We will soon begin construction. 

The second is strengthening our organization for lay ministry. We have undertaken a coordinated, intentional effort to structure things differently so that we look to one another for direction, so that more of us own the ministries we share, so that spirituality can be found in one another and in our programs. 

These two emphases are coming together this year: construction and reorganization. We will soon have space to do the ministry we feel called to do and be the community we are becoming. But what are we called to do? And what are we becoming? This is the challenging and exciting part. 

To discover this, we will be undertaking an 18-month process of renewal and visioning. After two years of concern with money and buildings and organization, we will now begin to dream again. It’s really time for that. 

With the help of a spiritual director to the process and the community-organizing methodology of Albuquerque Interfaith, we will discover together what our passions are, who our most effective lay leaders are, what our resources consist of, and where God is calling us in the decade ahead. It will be a ground-level, bottom-up work of the Spirit, explored patiently over 18 months in one-on-one conversations, prayer, home meetings, Bible study, and large gatherings. You will re-imagine St. Michael’s ministry, with the guidance of the Spirit. 

At the end of this time, I suspect that in many ways, we will continue to be the kind of place St. Michael’s has been for 60 years. But we will also be living into much more of our potential. 

We are currently an amazingly vibrant and gifted parish; but if we can welcome the fire of the Spirit by re-visioning our call to ministry, we will blossom into a remarkable community. We will harmonize and set loose the gifts, passions, and resources that are still somewhat dormant. And we will be a brighter light to the world around us. 

That, after all, is what it is all about. God came to the world as light, filling a human life with divinity. The wise men saw this light in Jesus. When he was cleansed and empowered through baptism, he took God’s light out into the world, healing and loving and teaching, and the world was never the same. 

This is our story, too. We come into this world, filled with God’s light. As we journey deeper in faith, this light becomes more visible. As we are cleansed and empowered by the Spirit in baptism, we are compelled to go out and serve the world in which we live. 

This is Jesus’ story. It is the story of those to be baptized today. And it is the story of every faithful Christian community. Pray for your parish community, that we might live into its promise. 

January 11, 2009
Prayer 101
The Rev. Brian C. Taylor

In one week we’ve moved swiftly from Jesus’ birth to his baptism at the age of 30. Today’s gospel tells us that the sky was ripped open and the Spirit came upon him like a dove. A voice from heaven defined Jesus’ relationship with the Father, with Abba, as he called him. He was God’s Son, the Beloved, with whom God was well pleased. 

It was an intimate, connected relationship of complete love, and Jesus lived out of this reality all the time. That’s what gave him his power, his peace, his compassion and his clarity. He was one with Abba. 

Today we renew our relationship with God, using the Baptismal Covenant. Like Jesus, we are God’s own beloved children, God is well pleased with us, and the Spirit was given to us, too, in baptism.  We are already in a relationship with God that is intimate, connected, loving. We are already one with Abba. But do we live out of this reality? Does it give us power, peace, compassion, and clarity? 

Perhaps our relationship with God needs to be refreshed. In the Baptismal Covenant, we promise to do several things, as our part in renewing our relationship with God. We promise to continue to use the faith tradition as a spiritual tool – the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, and prayers. We say that we will repent, when necessary, that we will proclaim the Good News, love and serve others, and strive for justice and peace. Most of us know that our relationship with God includes these kinds of things. 

But strangely enough, the Baptismal Covenant skips lightly over the very thing that I believe is the most essential in maintaining and refreshing our relationship with God: a life of prayer. 

Reading and study is fine, because it brings intellectual understanding. Coming to church is good, because it links us to a community and the teachings and traditions of our faith. Serving others is essential, because it is an outward expression of our faith that we are all one as children of God. 

But when one of you tells me that don’t feel connected to God, I don’t recommend reading or more church attendance or service projects. I want to talk about prayer. For if we want to be in a close relationship with God, we must pray. 

Prayer is the intimate place where we make contact with the Spirit. Prayer is the time when everything but our relationship with God drops away. No one else is there, only the two of us. Prayer is like those moments with someone you love, when you get vulnerable and real, when time stops and there is only deep companionship. Without this connection from time to time, no relationship is intimate. So it is with God. 

There are, of course, many techniques that help us to connect with God: meditative reading of scripture, liturgical prayer, contemplative silence, small spirituality groups, chanting or speaking a repetitive mantra, walking or gardening outdoors, listening to music, using The Book of Common Prayer. 

But what I’d like to talk about today is Prayer 101: the most basic form of prayer, when we just bring ourselves into God’s presence, when we voice our needs, and we listen, the way a child might pray – nothing fancy or technical, just being together as friends.  

I’m going to state the obvious here and say that just as there are two sides to every human relationship, there are two movements in the relationship of prayer. There is a movement from us to God, and a movement from God to us.  

We begin with our movement towards God. You might try it now, as I speak. Start with an awareness that God is in you, around you, everywhere. You may not be able to see, hear, or feel God, but you can know – at a level that is deeper than feeling -  that God’s Spirit is in every particle of your being, in every corner of creation. 

God is already listening, waiting for you to open your mind and your heart, like when you open a window to the outside air that is always there. Feel your breath going in and out. It is the divine life force that has been given to you by the Creator. It is the physical form of your unity with Abba. Take a little time to settle in to this. 

Then bring to mind the things you are concerned about, or the things you are grateful for. But don’t just say it and move on. Feel what you already feel about it. Stay with this for a little while; slow down; soften your heart. Be as honest and as vulnerable as you can. Don’t worry about being articulate or repetitive or having the right attitude or asking for the right thing. Just express your concern or your thanks. Then remain quiet for a while, holding up your prayer in hope and expectation. 

This is the part of prayer that is a movement from us towards God. We bring our life and our experience, as it is in this moment, into the relationship with God, just as we would with anyone whom we love. We become real; we share ourselves as we are, right now. 

But if this is all we’re aware of in prayer, we miss out on much. Our prayer life may eventually dry up, because we start to feel as if we’re just shooting prayers up into the ether, with nothing coming back. 

The other part of prayer, the other part of the relationship, is a movement from God to us. This might be in the form of an insight that comes in the time of prayer, or later, sneaking up on us from behind. It might be a feeling after prayer that all is well. Unexpectedly, our fears are quelled and we find ourselves centered again. Our needs may not be immediately answered, but we have less anxiety around them. We move into our day with more trust and equanimity. 

But these feelings don’t always come, and we shouldn’t expect them to. For God is silent, hidden, subtle, beneath our conscious mind and beneath our emotions. Because of this, we might make the mistake of thinking that God is absent; but this is never true. 

God is closer to us than we are to ourselves, at all times. A life of prayer teaches us to trust in this presence that is deeper than thought or feeling. A life of prayer teaches us that God is at work in us, hidden beneath our consciousness, even when we don’t sense this in any way. If this weren’t true, God would be as small as our consciousness. But God is far more than we can ever understand or feel, and God’s ways of working in us are, too. 

Sometimes we do sense God’s presence in prayer, but mostly we can only see the effects of prayer, in hindsight, over a long period of time. God’s movement towards us, God’s part in the relationship of prayer is like the wind. We can’t see the wind itself. All we can see is its effects. 

Over time, if we take the time to be in companionship with our Source, we will be affected. One day we will turn around and notice that we are more patient, more accepting of others, more ready to speak the truth in love, more generous and free. 

What I am describing are the gifts of the Spirit. Our scripture and the experience of the saints over thousands of years have clearly identified these gifts. There’s no big mystery or controversy about what they are. As St. Paul says, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22). Or as Jesus himself promised: meekness, mercy, purity of heart, and a hunger and thirst for righteousness and peace (Matthew 5, Luke 6). 

Anyone who regularly opens their heart to God with humility, honesty and love will be given these gifts over time. They come not because we craft them in ourselves. They come because God crafts them in us, in the intimate relationship of prayer. 

So this day, if you are looking to renew your friendship with God, pay attention to the promises you make in the Baptismal Covenant we are about to say together. But also pray as often as you can. Make a movement towards God by offering your needs and your gratitude, every day. Also know that God is also moving towards you. And over the course of your life of prayer, you will look back and see the good work that God has been doing in you.