We're All Wet: The Ministry of the Baptized (Matthew 3:13-17)

Baptism of Christ - A
Matthew 3:13-17
January 9, 2010

We're All Wet: The Ministry of the Baptized

Rev. John M. Caldwell, PhD
First United Methodist Church
Decorah, Iowa

There are times when preachers, even those who think of themselves as biblical preachers—as I do, will choose to preach without a specific text in mind. When I do that—and I don’t do it often—I hope that what I say is deeply informed by the broad sweep of Scripture. The occasion is usually some event that has happened in the world or in the life of the congregation. Then I hope for your indulgence as I claim the privilege of speaking from my heart and head.

Today is one of those times and it is occasioned by the church year that celebrates this Sunday as a festival commemorating Jesus’ baptism by John and by the crossroads that our relationship has reached. As Jesus is baptized in the Jordan I cannot help but be reminded of the baptism that we all share with him and the way that our baptism locates us in the world.

Let me begin by telling a story, Complaining about a pet peeve of mine, and sharing an observation. First the story: A young man who was an Episcopalian who worked among other things as a hospital volunteer. While he had no particular training, he had discovered that he had a gift for listening that allowed people to feel safe enough to talk about their fears and anxieties, their hopes and dreams, as they were experiencing the health crisis that had brought them to the hospital. It might have been an accident, an illness or a condition that needed to be treated with surgery. People felt safe enough to unburden themselves.

It wasn’t just in the course of his hospital volunteer work that people did this. He could hardly ride a bus or stand in a line at the grocery store without people telling him a story, often a painful one. He recognized that this was (or at least could be) a ministry. He made an appointment to see his bishop—easier for Episcopalians than for us because their bishops have much smaller administrative areas than ours. He told his bishop his story and then said that he wanted to be ordained.

The bishop was silent for a moment and then asked, “Why do you want to be ordained?”

The young man answered, “So that I will have the authority to carry out my ministry.”

The bishop smiled and said, “You already have all the authority you need to carry out your ministry: You are baptized!”

That’s the story. Here’s my pet peeve: When I meet new colleagues one of the subjects that comes up is our careers. It’s the same sort of thing that happens among any colleagues. I don’t mind that, although mine is quite a bit more complicated than the average story. What I mind is the way the question is framed. They ask me, “How long have you been in ‘the ministry’?” What they mean of course is, “How long have you been in ordained ministry?” or “parish ministry?” But that’s not what they say. They say, “How long have you been in ‘the ministry’?” So I tell them, “I’ve been in the ministry since November 30, 1952.” Invariably, they look at me curiously and I can see them running the numbers in their heads and they aren’t making any sense. I let them struggle for a bit and then I say (as if I didn’t already know), “Oh! You meant how long have I been ordained! I thought you were asking when I was baptized.”

Now, if I were to press them, they would acknowledge that, yes, all baptized persons have a ministry so it isn’t really technically correct to talk about ministry as if it were the special prerogative of the ordained. I know they were asked about this in the questions they prepared for their ordination. They know this in their heads. But their speech betrays that this way of thinking is not a habit of their hearts.

I assert that to speak of ministry as if it belonged to the ordained is an act of arrogance. And it annoys me. What annoys my colleagues, of course, is my turning their attempt at polite conversation into a theological trial with them as the accused. Well, there it is.

Now for the observation: In our bulletins we list who does what. I’ve noticed that it includes these words after “the ministers”: the congregation led by John M. Caldwell. It’s there every week. I don’t know how that custom began. I know that I didn’t start it; it was already firmly established when I got here.

The story raises the question about the authority to do ministry. The bishop in the story testifies to that authority in the sacrament of baptism, a sacrament shared in common by all laity, deacons, elders and bishops. There is of course a counter-testimony in the story, the conviction of the young man that “real” ministry isn’t quite authorized by baptism; that for “real” ministry you need an ordination. If the story continued we might discover that he had changed his mind, but, as it is, the question is unresolved.

My peeve has to do with my colleagues who casually and unthinkingly empower themselves at the expense of the baptized. Of course the history of the orders of ministry as we have them shows that their growth had a great deal to do with the formal leadership of the church distrusting the laity, so I’m implicated in my own complaint which may help explain why I am so peevish about it.

The observation of our own practice around naming ministers raises the question, Do we mean it? Do we really mean that all of you are ministers and I am your leader?

Now I suspect that the answer to that question is both yes and no. How often do you speak of me as “our minister” rather than “the one who leads us in ministry”? I know that, my pet peeve not withstanding, I don’t often speak of you as “the ministers” of First UMC. I generally introduce myself as the pastor of this congregation, not “the leader of the ministers.” These habits of speech are telling, I’m afraid. They suggest that we don’t really believe what we are professing.

There is, of course, nothing wrong about professing what we don’t yet fully believe. We are allowed to make our profession something we have to live toward, to strive for. But in our habits of speech we can see the gap between where we say we want to be and where we are right now.

On the other hand, I see some evidence that we do believe and practice this profession in important ways.

In the last six months I’ve been watching and listening. I’ve had a question in the back of my mind: “Who is First UMC and what makes it tick?” I’ve been collecting observations along the way about things that might hold an answer to my question. I notice, for example, where our building is. It’s right across the street from the courthouse. I notice that a lot of the leaders of our community are members here. I notice that a lot of our folks are the workers behind the scenes who make things happen in Decorah. I notice that there are a number of ministries and programs in our church. There is a solid music program. Good things are happening in children’s ministries. I’d like to think that we’re doing pretty well in the worship and preaching department. There is a strong United Methodist Women chapter here. None of these are unusual in themselves, although it’s dismaying how few congregations manage to do them. Then there are some really interesting and unusual things happening: Puppets of Praise, Sister Parish, and the Community Thanksgiving Dinner, to name three.

I have heard some folks wonder about our ministries and especially about what ties them together. They are worried that there doesn’t seem to be any unified direction to our life and ministry. I’ve wondered about that, too. I’ve tried to discern what common theme holds these ministries together, especially the last three I named. On one level there doesn’t seem to be any common theme.

But on further reflection it occurs to me that what holds Puppets of Praise, Sister Parish and the Community Thanksgiving Dinner together is that at the center of each of them is a small group of people—or maybe only one person—passionately committed to this ministry and willing to devote the time and effort needed to make sure that it is done well. What ties them together is that in each case First UMC has given the core group permission to be passionate and some modest resources to use: meeting space for planning meetings, accounting support for managing finances, secretarial support, or a place to hold an event. Very little money is given from First UMC to these programs. What these ministries have in common is that they exemplify the ministry of the baptized. What makes them work is that we trust the baptized to be in ministry on our behalf.

When I put these programs together with what I’ve noticed about the community involvement of our people, here is what I see: First UMC has been functioning in part to provide the baptized with the equipment they need in order to engage in ministry in the congregation and in the community. The largest part of these ministries are informal. They are carried out by people who care about the life we are creating for each other in Decorah and who are willing, as Christ’s disciples, to be engaged in the often difficult work of making things happen. Some ministries are formal ministries in the church that help prepare the baptized for their ministries. Some ministries are formal ministries through the church in which the baptized are carrying out the ministries to which they have been called and to which they are passionately committed.

We haven’t been very clear about it, but here is what I think we are all about: we are a congregation that calls people to Christian discipleship, authorizes and equips them for ministry through baptism and programs of Christian formation, and sends them into the various communities beyond our doors to transform those communities so that they more closely reflect God’s dream for human life. Or to put it more succinctly: First UMC makes disciples of Christ for the transformation of the world with a special emphasis on Decorah.

Of course, just because we have been doing this doesn’t mean that everything is okay and we can simply go on as we have been doing. I believe that we entering a period of history in which we will need to be very clear about who we are and what our core mission is. This can and will involve difficult even painful decisions. But, if I’m right about the common threads that bind our life and ministry together, we don’t have to be afraid of encouraging each other’s dreams and passions. Quite the contrary! If I understand the way that God tends to work I would have to say that it is far more likely that God is speaking to me through you than it is that God is speaking to you through me.

I was baptized on November 30, 1952. Since then, as one of the baptized, I have been in ministry. At first it was mostly a ministry of Loud Noises. Some say I’m still doing that.They may be right.

I don’t remember my baptism. At least not first hand. I have been told about it. I don’t remember it first hand but I can remember it by commemorating it. That happened for me in major ways at my confirmation and later at my ordinations as a deacon and then as an elder of the Church. It happens in a little way each time I approach the table. I am grateful, though, for the festival of the Baptism of Christ because it gives me a chance to remember my baptism in a way that reminds me of who I am and who I am called to be in the world. I invite you to join me in a reaffirmation of baptismal promises, so that, together, we may remember who and whose we are and reclaim the authority that we need to be in ministry as disciples of Jesus.

©2010, John M. Caldwell. Permission is given by the author to reproduce and distribute the unaltered text of this sermon provided this notice is reproduced in full and provided that this sermon shall not be offered for sale, nor included in any collection or publication that is offered for sale, without the express written permission of the author.