So at the 10:30 service on the second Sunday of each month, the sermon is a little different – we preach a children’s sermon, and invite all the children to come up to the front of the church. It often falls to AJ, because he’s really good at children’s sermons and he loves doing them. And to be honest, I’m a little terrified by them. The children’s sermons, that is, not the children themselves! Though you never know what they might say, or or ask. And it can be challenging to look at the morning’s readings and distill them down to one, simple message that speaks to the youngest and the oldest of us – some Spirit-inspired observation or bit of God’s truth that we all – including myself – might need to hear, whether we’re four years old or 90.
This month, though, our sermon rotation landed me on the second Sunday, and so I’m preaching the children’s sermon… in about two hours… and fifteen minutes – and perhaps because I’ve been preparing for that, as I’ve been reading today’s lectionary, I kept returning to some of the stories and voices that shaped my faith when I was a child.
Today’s readings capture God in all of God’s glory and love, this play of opposites.
In Isaiah, over and over, we read something of a love letter from God to God’s people, a people who at the time were exiled and far from home, wandering, feeling abandoned and desolate.
“I have called you by name.”
There is a reason this passage is chosen for the Sunday we celebrate the Baptism of our Lord, the day when God names God’s son, in the sacrament in which God names us God’s children.
“You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you,” God tells God’s people.
“Do not fear, for I am with you,” God tells God’s people.
I love you. Do not fear. I have called you by name.
And then…
Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness…
…we read the Psalm.
the God of glory thunders
the Lord is upon the mighty waters.
Do not fear, for I am with you.
…The voice of the Lord breaks the cedar trees..
You are precious in my sight.
The voice of the Lord splits the flames of fire;
You are honored, and I love you.
the voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness
Do not fear, for I am with you.
How does this Psalm square with Isaiah? A God whose voice shakes the wilderness and breaks the cedar trees – is also the God who loves each child. It reminds me of books I read as a child, C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia – in particular, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Aslan, the Christ figure, is known throughout the books as great lion. When four children stumble into Narnia through a magical wardrobe, they learn about Aslan from a new friend, Mr. Beaver, who is a beaver, and who tries to explain who Aslan is:
‘Aslan is a lion – the Lion, the great Lion.’
‘Ooh’ said Susan. ‘I’d thought he was a man. Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion’…
‘Safe?’ said Mr Beaver … ‘Who said anything about safe? ’Course he isn’t safe.
‘But he’s good.’
The God of this morning’s readings perhaps isn’t safe – a God who splits the flames of fire and strips the forests bare. But the God who sits enthroned is the God who gives strength to God’s people, and is the God who names us and loves us, a God that is good.
And that God is the God we meet in the Gospel story, the God Jesus knows as his Father in heaven. It’s in this Gospel reading about Jesus’ baptism that we see the God of glory and the God of love come together – the God whose voice is thunder, the God who is so powerful he breaks trees, and the God who loves his children completely and tenderly and individually and without reservation. That God, not safe, but good, flies down – the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove. “You are my child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
And so – spoiler alert – here’s the heart of today’s children’s sermon – the bit of God’s truth that I know I need to hear not infrequently, and that perhaps we all need to hear from time to time.
Here comes Jesus, along with all these other people who want to listen to John, and he walks right up to the river to be baptized along with all these other people. Jesus is the son of God – he’s the Messiah, and yet he wants to be baptized right along with everyone else.
What do we know about Jesus? I’ll ask the children. And they might think of some things, like: Jesus did miracles. Jesus traveled and taught people. He healed people who were sick. He was kind to people whom other people didn’t like. He walked on water. He fed 5,000 people with a few loaves and fishes. Changed water into wine. Turned over the tables in the Temple.
Jesus did all of those things, and much more.
But here’s the thing – on this day, when Jesus comes to be baptized, he hasn’t done any of those things yet. No one knows who this man is. He isn’t famous – he hasn’t done any miracles. He’s just been growing up, living with his parents, learning how to be a carpenter like his dad, learning about God. He hasn’t healed anyone, or preached, except maybe a little bit the other week when his parents lost him in Jerusalem for three days and finally found him hanging out with the rabbis in the Temple. But Jesus hasn’t started his ministry yet. This is just the beginning. The wedding at Cana, the calling of the disciples, the woman at the well, the Sermon on the Mount, the raising of Lazarus – the cross – they are all still in the future. Jesus, in today’s story, is just an unmarried carpenter’s son from Galilee.
And yet:
“You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Jesus didn’t have to do anything to be loved by God.
At Jesus’s baptism, God is saying, “I love this person, Jesus. Jesus hasn’t done anything important yet. I just love him because he is who he is.”
Which reminds me of another of my childhood inspirations – of something television show personality, children’s advocate and Presbyterian pastor Mr. Rogers used to say – he used to sing, and I won’t do that – “I like you just the way you are.”
And I think that is what happens every time someone is baptized. Baptism is one of those moments we hear God say, “You are my child, with whom I am well pleased.”
At baptism, God tells each one of us: “I love you, no matter what you have done or left undone. You don’t have to walk on water or be famous or make straight As or have a big house or even finish everything on your to-do list. You don’t have to do anything for me to love you.”
But this doesn’t mean that we separate that message out from what John the Baptist is preaching when he baptizes – repent, and do good – it’s just that Jesus’ baptism turns things around.
What else do we do with that love?
We give it away. Because we will never run out of it.
Because we are not loved because of how we love one another; we are to love one another because we are loved. We love one another because God is not safe, but good, and loves us, just the way we are. Amen.
A prayer for this week:
Dear God, help us to keep your words with us:
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you. (Isaiah 43:2)
Be with those who are walking through fire. In the name of your son Jesus Christ, Amen.
Sermon by The Rev. Cara Ellen Modisett on January 12, 2025, at Trinity Episcopal Church, Staunton, Virginia.
