A Christian Life
Jesus has just arrived by boat to a seaside town. His fame has spread, and a crowd gathers to see what he’ll do next.
In the midst of the chaos, a man comes up to Jesus and kneels at his feet. He’s a respected man, a man whose name we know: Jairus, a leader of the synagogue. But all his wealth and respectability can’t save his twelve-year-old daughter, who lies dying. And so he begs Jesus to come and heal her. Jesus agrees. They set out, and the crowd follows. Jesus was, among other things, apparently the best show in town.
Among those swarming around Jesus is a woman. We don’t know her name. But we know that she has been sick for a long time. A very long time. Twelve years. As long as Jairus’s daughter has been alive.
The woman is hemorrhaging, bleeding. The constant bleeding makes her ritually unclean, and at least to some degree an outcast. She has spent all she has on doctors, but to no avail. She’s poor, and probably alone. Yet she reaches out to Jesus in hope and faith—certain that a simple touch of his clothes will heal her.
A man—and a woman.
A wealthy, respected member of the community—and a scorned outsider who has spent all she has.
A man who kneels in humility—and a woman who reaches out boldly.
The two so different, but united in their desperation. The two reach out to Jesus and their prayers are answered. A beloved child is healed. A chronic illness cured.
The key lesson I take from these stories is this: God’s love has no boundaries, no conditions, no requirements. That fact, that experience, is at the heart of the Christian faith. Rich and poor, powerful and not—all can seek and find God’s love.
If you’ve ever had an experience like this, you might have needed some time just to sit in awe, some time to simply be thankful.
But whether it’s an hour later or a year later, eventually you’ll ask this question: Now what? How do I live my lives on the day after I encounter God? I once saw a book with a title that sums up the problem well: “After the ecstasy, the laundry.”
“Talitha cum,” Jesus says in Aramaic. “Little girl, get up.” And then he tells the onlookers to stop gawking and be sensible, give the child something to eat.
What’s our own version of that?
In a few minutes, we’ll baptize a baby, and we’ll remember our own baptisms. Baptism is a beginning. An entry onto a spiritual path. A first step into becoming more like Christ.
But how do we continue down that path? How do we live a Christian life?
The Episcopal Church’s baptismal service includes a series of promises that are a pretty good starting point.
Here’s a bit of trivia: you don’t need to make any of those promises for a baptism to be considered valid. A little bit of water and the words “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit” is all you actually need for baptism.
The promises are there as a reminder of what comes next, of what a life in Christ looks like.
The Baptismal Covenant talks about what we believe. It includes the ancient words of the Apostle’s Creed. But it also talks about what we do, how we live our lives. What does a Christian life look like?
Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread, and in the prayers?
A Christian life is a life in community. A life that says we can’t do this alone. We need to learn from one another and from those who came before us. We need to share in Communion, in the breaking of bread, in food that feeds us in a way that is at once real and spiritual.
Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?
A Christian life is a life of self-examination. Repentance isn’t a one-time thing, as much as we wish it could be. We all fail. We all will fail. But a Christian life is a life in which we watch ourselves, notice when we’re getting things wrong, repent, and return, knowing that God’s grace is always waiting for us.
Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?
A Christian life is a life of courage. A life that models God’s grace, that shares it with others. Episcopalians tend not to be very big on evangelism as speech. We’re better at evangelism as action. At the very least, we ought to live into our faith in such a way that others might want to share what we have.
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?
A Christian life is a life of service and love. A life that treats others as we wish to be treated. A life of generosity and care and action. I see that in our Happy Kitchen breakfasts. In the food we collect for the Flint Hills Breadbasket (which, by the way, we’ll do again next Sunday). It also means trying to understand people we disagree with, seeing Christ in them even as we hope they will see Christ in us.
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
A Christian life is a life that seeks justice and peace. That sometimes might require us to be uncomfortable, to take risks. But Jesus said again and again: don’t be afraid. Fear is a terrible guide for action. Love and compassion work out much better in the long run.
It all adds up to this: God’s grace is there, free for the asking, no matter who we are or what we’ve done.
What happens next is how we live our lives in gratitude for that grace, getting up, doing the next right thing. And then the next. And then the next.
As we renew our baptismal promises in a few minutes, think about what that might mean for you.