I am baptized!

"Should the Christian stand all day long at the grave of all joys which he enjoyed in past years? Through Holy Baptism a great stream of joy has been conducted in his heart, which does not drain away, but streams forward with his life until its waves carry him into the sea of a blessed eternity. Should the Christian be reminded all day long that the flowers of his youth fall more and more? He stands planted by God in the water of his Baptism as a palm tree which becomes greener and greener and whose leaves never wither. Yes, his Baptism makes death for him like a short winter's nap, out of which an eternal spring--an eternal youth--follows. . . .

"Now then, all of you who believe in God's Word, let your watchword for entering the new year be this: 'I am baptized!' Although the world may laugh at this comfort, the enthusiasts vex its confidence . . . nevertheless, abandon any other dearly held pledges and speak only throughout the entire year to come, in all terrors of conscience and necessity through sin and death: 'I am baptized! I am baptized! Hallelujah!' And you shall prevail! In every time of need, you will find comfort in your Baptism; on account of it Satan will flee from your faith and confession; and in death you will see heaven opened and will finally come into the joy of your Lord to celebrate a great year of jubilee, a year of praise, with all the angels forever and ever. Amen!" - C. F. W. Walther

Let It Come

I know we're all walking around singing "Let it go" these days. Sometimes it's what we need to do. But long before Frozen there was Winnie-the-Pooh, and as Pooh patiently explains to Piglet in the passage below, sometimes it's not about letting things go, but letting them come.

Pooh and Piglet walked slowly after him [Tigger]. And as they walked Piglet said nothing, because he couldn't think of anything, and Pooh said nothing, because he was thinking of a poem. And when he had thought of it he began:

"What shall we do about poor little Tigger?

If he never eats nothing he'll never get bigger.
He doesn't like honey and haycorns and thistles
Because of the taste and because of the bristles.
And all the good things which an animal likes
Have the wrong sort of swallow or too many spikes."

"He's quite big enough anyhow," said Piglet.

"He isn't really very big."

"Well, he seems so."

Pooh was thoughtful when he heard this, and then he murmured to himself:

"But whatever his weight in pounds, shillings, and ounces,

He always seems bigger because of his bounces."

"And that's the whole poem," he said. "Do you like it, Piglet?"

"All except the shillings," said Piglet. "I don't think they ought to be there."

"They wanted to come in after the pounds," explained Pooh, "so I let them. It is the best way to write poetry, letting things come."

"Oh, I didn't know," said Piglet.

(From The Tales of Winnie-the-Pooh, "In Which Tigger Comes to the Forest and Has Breakfast")

It can be not only the best way to write poetry, but the best way to get through the day. My prayer for you today, dear readers, is that as you splash around in your baptism you are able to let go of that which needs to be washed away while letting the rest simply come. Please pray for me to do the same.

Signs

I grew up in The South, but I have always resisted the generalization that Southerners are friendlier or more hospitable than people in other parts of the country. I tend to resist sweeping generalizations as a general rule (haha), but in the twenty years we lived in Illinois, I also met enough generous, warm, and welcoming people to belie the notion that Northerners are cold. Still, as I think about our icy, snowy drive from Illinois to Oklahoma a few weeks ago, something stands out. I don't know if it would have happened in Illinois, at least not in Chicago. Right before we crossed into Oklahoma, at a travel plaza located where Oklahoma, Missouri, and Kansas converge, we had to stop for gas. My elderly mother also needed a restroom break, which necessitated her getting out of the car and navigating an icy parking lot with her walker. As I helped her out of the car, a rather big, burly farmer stopped his truck and got out. "Could you use some help?" he asked. I told him I would appreciate it. He got on one side of my mom as I got on the other, and together we walked her all the way into the store. I know if she had slipped he would have not let her hit the ground.

But that's not the end of the story. After we finished our business in the store and came out, a woman who had just pulled up offered the very same assistance. Granted, my 18-year-old and 10-year-old were in the car and could have been drafted to help. But instead in both cases complete strangers stepped in.

It was a remarkable and symbolic welcome to our new state. Even so, the first night we spent in our new house, I didn't sleep much. I sat up and cried and thought about the place we had left and couldn't get the memories to leave me in peace. But with each day that passes, another act of kindness has made me feel more at home here. That incident at the Oklahoma border seems to have been a sign of things to come.

I am reminded of when we moved from Texas to Illinois 20 years ago. That move was filled with uncertainty. I had lived in Texas my entire life and now we were going to Illinois so that my husband could be a full-time church worker. What in the world were we thinking? On the first morning of our drive, as we crossed from Texas into Arkansas, we were greeted by a rainbow. We took it as a sign that God would bless our way forward.

I don't know if these things are indeed signs or if I am seeing in them what I want to see. But I do know that God always blesses His children. So I cling to the sign that I know is true, that of the cross made over me, my husband, and our children in our baptisms. And that is no overgeneralization.

God's Own Child

Monday night I went to sleep planning out this blog post. But Tuesday, life intervened, so this is a day late. Eighteen years ago yesterday my baby girl was brought into the priesthood of all believers. Love came down and claimed Caitlin as His own as she was baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I give thanks that He continues to sustain and nurture her in the faith, a faith which is apparent in the things she says and does. I look at her and see a young woman who confesses the name of her Saviour with no hesitation and who does not shrink from speaking the truth but who manages, better than many more "mature" Christians, to always speak it in love. I so admire that about her.

November 12, 1995, was a cold, cold day in Peoria. It wasn't like today in Chicago, where it is cold but clear and sunny. Instead it was overcast and icy. I remember being worried about my mother and my in-laws as they made their way down the sidewalk to church. Once we were inside the building, though, all thoughts of the cold disappeared as we welcomed Caitlin Marie into the Lord's family. 

When he saw this picture Evan said, "Mom, you look young!" To which I said, "Evan, I was young!"

Trevor, Phillip, baby Caitlin and I along with our dear, sainted Pastor Freudenburg and his wife Jo.

 

Godparents.

I am really sorry I forgot to do this blog post yesterday. Earlier in the month I acknowledged Trevor's baptism on Facebook, and then last week I did a special post for Evan. When it hit me a little while ago that I had let Caitlin's day go by, I was disgusted with myself. Sometimes it stinks to be the middle child! Trevor is the firstborn, the oldest, the one away at college. Evan is the baby. Sometimes it seems as though Caitlin can get lost in the expanse between her brothers. But about yesterday's oversight my unassuming daughter was predictably understanding. That is another thing I admire about her. She expects so very little, accepting whatever comes with sincere appreciation.

By the way, that bit of life that intervened yesterday? It was called "selling the house." For those who may not know, our previous contract fell through. It looks, however, as though we now have another one. Having been burned once, I am not going to celebrate quite so boisterously this time around, but if all goes well we will be closing sometime after Christmas.

Many a Weary Foot

Happy new year!

I have been meaning to do a follow up to my Christmas post. First, my mom is doing as well as can be expected. She has moved to a skilled nursing facility and is starting the process of  rehabilitation following her  fracture and surgery.

We have had quite the week. On top of my mom's surgery, Evan developed an eye infection. We called the doctor's office and tried their home remedies for a couple of days, to no avail. We called back but they were unable to work him in for an appointment and advised us to go to urgent care. The doctor at urgent care was so concerned she called the pediatric ER doctor at the hospital. Apparently what began as a sty went into cellulitis, which is not something to be messed with, particularly not on the face. Antibiotics were prescribed and within a day we were seeing improvement. Again I give thanks for modern medicine.

Our puppy enjoyed his first Christmas! Here he is lying on his new pillow, covered up with his new blanket, chewing on a new bone, with new toys close by. Did this orphan hit the jackpot when he landed at our house, or what?

All seemed to like their presents. Here's the Cantor trying to decide which one of his spirit-filled chocolates to try first. 

Here's Caitlin displaying one of her gifts. It's about writing. Are you surprised?

Willard is going to miss Trevor as much as the rest of us when he returns to college in a few days.

This pic of "The Quintet" was taken Christmas Eve.

I was thrilled to receive several items on my wish list. Trevor and Caitlin got me a Garmin for my car (they know, more than anyone, how much I need it) and Phillip got me a new video camera (my Flip is dying and for months now I have been taking video with my phone). You video watchers can rejoice with me in that one. Better quality coming soon!

When Evan gave me his present he told me it was going to change my life. It absolutely has. I didn't have a necklace like this and now I do! Oops, I mean pendant. Every time I call it a necklace I am corrected: "It's not a necklace, Mom; it's a pendant." Whatever it's called, I love it! According to Phillip, Evan picked this out himself. He did a good job, no?

We had a lovely New Year's Eve. Watched some TV, including A Spongebob Christmas, ate leftovers, drank some wine, watched the ball drop in New York City, and afterward sang "Auld Lang Syne" (it was only 11:00 but we pretended it was 12:00). I found myself wondering how many more years we will all be together on New Year's Eve. Our children are growing up. The day will come when they will have others to whom they want to cling on New Year's Eve. That is as it should be and as I pray it is. But as the years go on each "Auld Lang Syne" seems to be getting more significant than the last. These days are not forever.

I leave you with today's Writing from the Treasury of Daily Prayer. I read it last night with Evan and Caitlin and had them repeat with me the following words: "I am baptized! I am baptized! Hallelujah!" What else need we say?

"Should the Christian stand all day long at the grave of all joys which he enjoyed in past years? Through Holy Baptism a great stream of joy has been conducted in his heart, which does not drain away, but streams forward with his life until its waves carry him into the sea of a blessed eternity. Should the Christian be reminded all day long that the flowers of his youth fall more and more? He stands planted by God in the water of his Baptism as a palm tree which becomes greener and greener and whose leaves never wither. Yes, his Baptism makes death for him like a short winter's nap, out of which an eternal spring--an eternal youth--follows. . . .

Now then, all of you who believe in God's Word, let your watchword for entering the new year be this: 'I am baptized!' Although the world may laugh at this comfort, the enthusiasts vex its confidence . . . nevertheless, abandon any other dearly held pledges and speak only throughout the entire year to come, in all terrors of conscience and necessity through sin and death: 'I am baptized! I am baptized! Hallelujah!' And you shall prevail! In every time of need, you will find comfort in your Baptism; on account of it Satan will flee from your faith and confession; and in death you will see heaven opened and will finally come into the joy of your Lord to celebrate a great year of jubilee, a year of praise, with all the angels forever and ever. Amen!" - C. F. W. Walther

WaterLife

Before I can remember, the covenant was sealed
With Father, Son, and Spirit in water was revealed.
The cleansing was for certain, with water and the word;
His gentle words were spoken, in heaven they were heard.

They were singing water life, beginning life, water life, all my life
Water life, spirit life, water life.

A simple sweet beginning, a loving place to start:
Christ began the singing that swells within my heart.
His love became my calling, my life His ministry.
His name is my adoption into His family.

My hope and expectation for true community,
Begins with resurrection, His death and life in me.
His Spirit fills the body; His church through water sees
His promise for tomorrow, His water life in me.

What's Your Name? - A Funeral Homily

As you know if you're a regular reader of this blog, my father-in-law died several weeks ago. I lost my own father many years ago, in 1994. Like my father-in-law, he did not speak often of matters of faith, and when he died I worried about that a lot. But also like my father-in-law, he had God's name placed upon him in Holy Baptism in his childhood, and although I didn't often see him in church or hear him speaking about God, I do know that he never renounced that baptism. During one of my last visits with him, when he was days from death and unable to speak, I whispered in his ear of God's great love for Him and my certainty that his God was watching over and caring for him, and he nodded. That, and now these words from my husband, spoken at his own father's funeral, have given me much comfort. I hope they may bring you comfort, too.

Grace, peace, and mercy be unto you from God our Father and from our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

"What's your name?”

That's a question asked of us often in our lives. The answer tells people who we are. It tells people Whose we are, too.

For a long time Dad ran from his given name--Eddie--preferring to go by the more dignified-sounding Edward or Ed. That's actually something a lot of us do, as we take on nicknames, alter-egos, and noms de plumes. I know I've played a little with my name over the years, and so did Dad.

But in the end, when he was suffering in the hospital, he came back to the name his parents gave him--the name he still claimed when he was baptized.

God's a great name-changer. In the Bible people often have their names changed when they are called to serve Him as prophets, apostles, or evangelists. In Holy Baptism, God, the great “name-changer” does something even more valuable with our identities: He gives us HIS name, and places it upon our hearts. Adopted as His sons and daughters, we get to have our Brother's name--that is, Jesus' name. That's why many Christians make the sign of the cross, by the way. It tells people who we are. It tells people whose we are.

Of course, Dad wasn't what we might call a "crosser." I doubt He ever physically made the sign of the cross. He was raised Baptist, and that's not their custom. In fact, as we all know, Dad ran not just from the name “Eddie” but also from his baptismal identity for many years. But God's name is a funny and wonderful thing: it doesn't go away. And wherever God's name is, There He is.

You see, God cannot evacuate His name. And so He is always there to be called upon. Yes, He can be disowned. For ceremonial reasons the Verse before the Gospel in the liturgy today glosses over God's Law that God does disown those who disown Him. And that is His word of warning for us today. But that doesn't mean He goes away or gives up on us. The Verse continues: “If we are faithless, He will remain faithful, for He cannot disown Himself.” Even Peter disowned our Lord three times--only to be forgiven and restored just as Christians are each day when we remember our Baptisms and call upon God's Name.

I heard Dad call upon the Lord the last day I was with him. And as I left he thanked me for my prayers for him. He gave us all hope that just as he was returning to be called “Eddie” in the end, he was also returning to the Name that was placed upon His heart, and placing his hope in the one whose strong Word named him and claimed him so many years ago.

I chose our readings today to encourage us in this hope. The prophet Isaiah encourages us with God's promise that His Word “will not return empty, but accomplish the purposes for which I sent it.” The Psalmist is languishing with bones in anguish--just as Dad's bones were in anguish from the cancer that killed him--and yet rejoicing comes as the Lord hears the cry of his child, David, and the enemies are defeated.

That doesn't mean we don't die. The enemy is really not sickness and death. Think about it: all the people Jesus healed of their diseases ultimately got sick and died. No, as the catechism teaches us, the enemies are the devil, the world, and our own, sinful nature. For they think the justice of God's name is scandalous! They say, “How dare the Lord say to the thief on the cross, 'Today you will be with me in paradise'?"

Old Adam wants to justify himself by works, so that he can deceive himself with “I'm better than the that guy.” Ever notice than when it's up to the Adams, everyone is above average?! But in God's love His justice doesn't work that way. He doesn't draw the line somewhere in the middle, but draws it way at the top so that NONE of us measure up. The only one who measures up is the perfect one: Jesus Christ, the New Adam who died on the cross and paid the full sacrifice for all our sins. This way no one can boast. We all become beggars before God. This is the only way He can deal with us, and thanks be to God that He does. For if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God, who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

And so God gives us His righteousness. It's what theologians call The Great Exchange. He doesn't see us according to the names the world gives us. He sees us according to the name HE give us, and hears His children when they call upon His name. It doesn't matter whether someone believes longer or believes stronger. Such thinking turns faith into work. But faith is not a work of man. Rather, it is a gift from God. And the gift we receive by the Holy Spirit, the gift we inherit in our baptisms, is a gift that keeps on giving. Even when WE are faithless, GOD remains faithful. He is the giver of faith. And just as He cannot evacuate His name; He cannot disown Himself.

And so that's our Good News for today. If you aren't calling upon God's Name today, what's stopping you? The devil, the world, your sinful nature? They are all defeated! Return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.

Call upon His name. Just as Eddie did.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.