Easter Baptisms

There was a teenage girl who is on the autism spectrum who told me how much she loves Jesus and that she wanted to be baptized. Just because of where she happened to be standing, she bravely went first, her parents right there beside her.

There was a 39 year old man who asked me if I was going to carry him around the sanctuary like I did with the babies, smiling at me as I sprinkled water into his thick head of hair. Some of it dripped down onto his long bushy beard.

There was a mother and daughter kneeling side-by-side, their husband/dad standing behind them with tears running down his face as I baptized first his little girl, then his wife. They all held hands during the prayer.

There was a baby boy in a beautiful all white baptism outfit, bright eyes shining, smiling at me when I took him from his mom. The water must have been a little bit cold because when I put it on his head he caught his breath and shivered like babies do.

There was another baby boy who is an actual super hero, living with spinal muscular atrophy and rocking his Easter morning bow tie right alongside the medical equipment he’s connected to. He didn’t care for all the jostling, and frowned at me. (We’re good, though. He smiled at me later.)

There was a fifth grade girl who had asked me not to get her hair bow wet. I tried, but failed. So after I baptized her I whispered, “I’m sorry I think I got your bow wet” and she indignantly replied, “Oh come on!” with a twinkle in her beautiful eyes.

So that was Easter Sunday. Not bad, huh?

Because my call to ministry happened during a baptism (Jessica Sparks, 20 years ago, First Presbyterian Church, Galesburg, Illinois), baptism has always a very meaningful part of what I do as a pastor. But I think Easter Sunday of 2019 will be particularly special, and I will recall it with great joy for years to come. Not just because there were seven baptisms, which is pretty groovy in and of itself. But because of each of the seven unique and miraculous lives that were changed in those moments.

Baptism is the beginning of a new relationship. Easter is the beginning of a new season. In two months will be a beginning of a new chapter of ministry for me. God really is continually doing a new thing, within us and among us and all around us, in every moment and every place, forever and ever. The energy of Easter, the power of Baptism, along with the ongoing grace of Holy Communion: these spiritual realities equip us for every new beginning we face, in every moment of our lives.

Initiated into Christ’s holy church – Incorporated into God’s might acts of salvation – Given new birth through water and the Spirit. And ALL of it is God’s gift, offered to us without price. The thought of it really should blow us away; it is almost too much to perceive!

Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia, amen.

Post Mortem for the Via Media

The Via Media is dead.

The post-mortem of the Middle Way includes such examinations as General Conference 2019, 21^st century politics, seminary recruitment plans, and Christian evangelism.

At General Conference 2019 a via media was offered by marriage equality advocates and a few who favor traditional marriage. It was strongly rejected by just over half of the delegates.

In 21^st century politics, a via media platform would never get enough support from a party’s base to be nominated in the first place, and so the candidates presented for election tend to represent extremes.

In seminary recruitment, rigorous theological debate among a variety of diverse viewpoints has been replaced by ideologically driven “orthodoxy” training, which has become a primary consideration for potential students.

In terms of evangelism, individual Christians are drifting toward congregations that are more uniformly aligned with their own theology rather than doing the hard and uncomfortable work of living together with diverse perspectives.

(Yes, these are generalities; Yes, I am aware of their limitations.)

I am a “via media liberal.” I have “mediated” my sermons here at Campbell for the sake of honoring the middle way. In doing so, I hear from liberals in the congregation disappointed that I have not been more forthright. When I am more forthright about my personal perspective, I hear from conservatives in the congregation disappointed that I have been too political. Both liberals and conservatives have left Campbell in the past few months to connect with congregations to which they feel more aligned theologically. More via media post-mortem examination.

And so it goes. (I hear similar stories from “via media conservative” colleagues, by the way.)

And still I continue to believe that the middle way is the best way. I continue to believe that we need each other. As much as I value my personal relationship with Jesus, as highly as I regard my perspective of who he is and who he wants me to be, I know that my glimpse is only one small glimpse of the infinite entirety of Christ. I know that I need other glimpses, connected together with mine, in order to get a fuller picture of who God is.

We need each other. And so…

We need the via media.

Yet the via media is dead.

Is it dead for a season? Is it winter for the middle way, with a spring somewhere on the horizon? Has the via media been crucified, meaning resurrection is just around the corner?

And if so, what do we do? What can we do?

And on a personal level, what do I do? Shall I veer left theologically, mediating less and being stronger with my own personal perspective? Would that be selling out, capitulating to prevailing winds of the day? Or shall I continue to advocate for compromise, diversity of thought, and the middle way? Would that just be an exhausting, fruitless tilting at windmills that would do nothing but wear me out spiritually?

As of now, I remain committed to the middle way. I value diversity. I enjoy hearing different perspectives, when they are offered with generosity and civility. It just seems like it is harder and harder to walk the via media in this season. More and more people seem to be seeking like-mindedness instead of engaging the difficult, vulnerable, and risky search for truth together.

Maybe it’s that Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter for the middle way, and all we can do is sit by the tomb, in silent vigil, grief stricken, not knowing, not understanding. Wondering what comes next.

Hoping for Easter.