Sunday 7th February 2010: 6.30pm: Baptism in the name of the Trinity
I read the other day of a Baptist minister getting slightly confused at a baptism. It was a story told by another minister so it must be true!
He knew there are two great sacraments of the Christian church – he’d learnt that much at college. He knew about Communion where bread is eaten and wine drunk and he knew about baptism. Both are what we call dominical sacraments – that is they were commanded by Jesus himself. We haven’t invented them just received them.
And this minister knew the words he should use at both. But one day standing in the baptistery with the candidate and perhaps overcome by the occasion, certainly muddled in his thinking, the minister, surrounded by water said: Drink ye all of it!
Well, I’ll try and keep a clear head later on.
We’re thinking this evening of baptism in the name of the Trinity and we have just heard the gospel story of Jesus’ baptism. And at his baptism although not named, the Trinity is experienced. The voice of God the Father from heaven, the baptism of Jesus the Son in the Jordan and the descent of the dove afterwards representing the Holy Spirit.
The Trinity – it’s one of those tantalising mysteries of Christianity, one God in three persons. And it’s in the name of the Trinity that we baptise Rachel this evening.
Let’s start then with God the Father.
What do we believe about The Father? We begin the best known prayer in the world using that name.
Christians talk of him as the creator. That’s our theme at Harvest; it’s the inspiration behind many of our hymns and our rationale that binds ecology and theology together. We believe there is a mind behind the universe – a divine presence that gives our world a deeper meaning.
Christians also talk of him as a God of love and justice.
My theology tutor at college used to say these two characteristics of God go out from him all the time together – a God of justice who hates sin and will not water down his ethics, a holy and righteous God. Yet at the same time there goes out from him this great love. A love that forgives and binds up those who fall, a love that makes it possible for the wanderer to return home and receive an open hearted welcome.
A God of love and a God of justice – we’ll never exhaust mining these seams of God’s character.
Well it was this God who speaks at Christ’s baptism words of beauty and encouragement: This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.
I have no doubt that in Gethsemane’s garden as Jesus prayed for strength to finish the task his Father had sent him to do he remembered those words from his baptism.
So let’s move on and think of Jesus – the second person of the Trinity. We define ourselves as being his followers; we even bear his name when we call ourselves Christ – ians.
We have just made mention of the cross and I am pleased that our baptistery is located so close to our cross. The two are inseparably linked.
Because Jesus died for the sins of the world we believe our sins can be forgiven by God. Because he bore our punishment we receive God’s mercy. His death offers us life.
As the hymn writer puts it:
There was none other good enough to pay the price of sin,
He only could unlock the gate of heaven, and let us in.
Now if you believe that, if you believe in the cross, then you’ll want to return to the cross time and again. There’s a place to go when our burden is heavy, there’s a place to go when we’ve messed up and need new beginnings – it’s the cross of Christ.
I once did some work looking at why the ecumenical, cathedral like church at the centre of Milton Keynes, called Christ the Cornerstone, was built the way it was. This one congregation has Anglicans, Methodists and Baptists all worshipping together, and a Roman Catholic community using the building as well. So, naturally, they have a font – for the baptism of infants and a baptistery for the baptism of believers. In this creative tension they worship and serve together in a united way at the centre of their city.
I became deeply impressed by the integrity of this church and couldn’t help but notice the helpful piece of symbolism they had incorporated into their building design. The water for both the font and baptistery came from the same source – it ran down a conduit that filled both – but where did the water come in? That was the genius of the design – it entered the church from the foot of the central cross – just behind the communion table.
Whatever our tradition and method, no baptism would ever be possible had it not been for the cross of Christ.
Baptism in the name of the Father, and also in the name of the Son, who gives us a fresh start through Good Friday.
And thirdly, what might we say about the third person of the blessed Trinity, God the Holy Spirit. The gospel writer depicts him (although it’s worth saying here, perhaps just a little controversially that in Greek the pronoun for the Spirit is in the feminine!) – as a dove.
The dove, that beautiful, graceful, hope-filled symbol of the Spirit flutters down from heaven and the baptism becomes a moment when it seemed there was a physical manifestation of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
As Jesus begins his three year’s of public ministry his baptism is like a coronation – he is proclaimed by the Father and crowned by the Spirit.
Is God the Holy Spirit with us –with is this evening in worship – with us tomorrow in service. Yes!
Every time we gather in Christ’s name – even if there are only two or three of us – God the Holy Spirit is there. Every time we baptise a believer in the name of the Trinity – we believe in some way it’s not just the candidate making a promise of allegiance to God – but God through the Spirit whispers to us: I am with you, with you in your baptism, with you in your life – and I will be with you in your dying and bring you to life once more in God’s nearer presence. I am the God who never lets you go – the Holy Spirit, our guide and comforter.
So this is what we are about when we baptise Rachel this evening in the name of the Trinity. We are reaffirming our faith in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
I’ve not always served in a church that has such a splendidly modern, bright and vibrant building. And when schoolchildren visited, especially the church in Hitchin with its baptistery hidden under the platform floorboards they would be intrigued. The pulpit, communion table, pews and gallery they seemed to understand. But this old looking bath, with two small side sections where Victorian deacons could stand and assist without getting wet, this old museum piece baptistery seemed to mystify them.
At Malvern it was much better because the baptistery was just below the preaching platform, it was a focal point at the centre of the church and had a beautiful marble surround and was constantly open.
Here at South Street it’s a cross between the two – always visible because it’s raised, yet perhaps only fully understood when the covers are removed and it’s filled with water. A modern baptistery, near to the cross – tonight it’s no museum piece – but a meeting place – where Rachel will declare her personal faith in Jesus Christ as Lord – and where Christ will draw alongside her in assurance of his forgiveness, peace and hope.
