Sermon Illustrations
BAPTISM
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Why give the call to one man, Abraham, when he was only going to father one son? Why not make the covenant with the son?
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Because families are important! The context for that son was within the covenant of God.
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-Unknown
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BAPTIZED (Story Sermon)
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"YOU ARE MY BELOVED SON"
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[On the FESTIVAL OF THE BAPTISM OF OUR LORD (1/11/87), I preached a
"narrative" sermon which elicited a lot of comment. I thought I
would share with you an excerpted version of my attempt to deal with
the issue of baptism, faith and "the blessed hope of everlasting
life."]
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The room was silent, save for the soft electronic click of the in-
travenous device. A small amount of light filtered in. How guiet
it was. What a contrast from the bustle and commotion of the inten-
sive care unit. Robert was surrounded by silence and he felt very
much alone, robert did not know what was happening to him. He knew
he was very sick. He knew he could not speak. He did not seem to
be able to move his legs but he could squeeze his hand and make a
fist.
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Is this what it was like to be near death? Robert thought it would
be different. He thought there would be a lot of people gathered
around him, doctors and nurses, perhaps a visit from a smiling pas-
tor. But that's not the way it had been at all. Oh, he wished
someone would come.
But who? He couldn't expect Sarah to come. That's one thing about
divorce...you can't expect a former wife who has suffered greatly
because of your rejection to care whether you live or die. "She
probably doesn't even know I'm sick," Robert thought. Now you
might think a man with two children could expect presence of at
least one of them at a time like this. But Barbara was out in
California, struggling with the two small children, and Bob, well,
he and Bob hadn't spoken in years.
So, this is the way it is. All the accomplishment of a lifetime and
it comes down to being alone in a room, alone and immobile, alone
and mute. Why doesn't anyone come? His parents would have been
there. They never let him down. When he played sports, they
watched. When he was just getting started they called and relished
each success. And how they enjoyed his family! But they were dead
now. No one to say, "This is my son. This is my beloved son."
"This is my beloved son." Those words had not entered Robert's mind
in years. What was that story? Weren't they the words that come
from the cloud when Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan River?
"This is my beloved son." The steady click, click of the intrave-
nous machine broke the uncaring silence of his room. "This is my
beloved son in whom I am well pleased. "Oh, to hear those words,
to hear any words of love and compassion. "This is my beloved son..."
"I was baptized," Robert thought. "I was baptized in First
Lutheran Church in Jamestown, New York, by two people who loved me
and loved each other and believed in God." The memories came flood-
ing back to him: the Sunday School class in the church kitchen, the
Penny Socials, those wonderful plates with pieces of cake, the stern
old Swedish pastor who gave you a good feeling when he would speak
to you. "Oh, if only Pastor Bergstrom could walk in this room and
speak to me now!"
"You have been baptized, Robert, and that means that you belong to
the Lord. You are His precious child, and no matter what you do,
nothing will ever change that." His mother had told him that, and
he had always believed it. Oh, he had a pretty lousy track record
as a Christian. He always meant to get back to church. Too bad.
it would be nice to think there was a group of people somewhere
thinking about him, praying for him, maybe even, yes, visiting him,
bringing flowers. Oh, he could remember, as a child, going with his
mother after church to deliver flowers. He felt a tear run down his
face as he imagined how much color and joy a bouquet of flowers
would bring to his sterile room.
"This is my beloved son." The words would not go away. His
thoughts ran back to Confirmation Class...six boys and two timid
girls, meeting every Saturday morning with Pastor Bergstrom, reci-
ting the memory work from the catechism. "This is most certainly
true! I believe that I cannot bt my own power or strength believe
in Jesus Christ, my Lord or come to him." Why do we remember these
things? How is it that forty years later they remain? Is this what
faith is all about?
"You are my beloved son - you have been baptized - you have been
marked by the Cross of Christ forever." I suppose this is what it
finally does come down to, Robert thought. We come into this world
with nothing, we go out of this world with nothing. It really
doesn't matter what we've learned, or how much we've accomplished,
or who we've known. All that matters is that we are known by God,
named and counted by Him. What was that verse that Pastor Bergstrom
had written in his confirmation Bible? Robert closed his eyes and
he could picture that maroon Bible with the inscription: "He who
believes and is baptized shall be saved." Mark 16: 16. "He who be-
lieves and is baptized shall be saved."
A quiet peace came over Robert. He did not feel alone anymore.
Somehow he could sense around his bed the warm, affirming presence
of Carl and Britta Johnson, his parents, and Pastor Bergstrom, and
Astrid Nordsted, his Sunday School teacher in the church kitchen,
and those seven kids in his Confirmation Class, and, yes, somehow he
could even sense the presence of Sarah and Barbara and Bob, whom he
had hurt and who had hurt him, but he knew he could now sincerely
forgive them, and whether they would ever know it or not, he would
love them with whatever strength remained within him.
"This is my beloved son." There was a smile on Robert's face, and a
joy in his heart. He was not alone. He was held by the one who had
called him from the beginning. And so, not in resignation, but in
joyful assurance, Robert could say with St. Paul, "Whether I live or
whether I die, it makes no difference, for I belong to the Lord."
Amen.
Pastor Almquist, First Lutheran Church, Jamestown, NY