A little bit brighter

I was recently at [name of a family member - redacted]’s place when I spotted a couple of vaguely familiar looking objects in her china cabinet. I took them out for a closer look, and I immediately recognised them. They were a cup and spoon that had been given to me at my baptism some time last millennium.

 

As you may have worked out by their presence here, today we are going to baptise [name of a child - redacted] and welcome her into the Church. I would like to acknowledge their wider whanau who have joined us today. Thank you for coming to share in this special time.

 

But before we baptise [name of a child - redacted], I am going to try to reflect on what exactly this means in 2023.

 

When I was a child, it was the norm for children to be baptised in countries with roots on Christendom, and Aotearoa New Zealand was no exception. I was too young to remember my baptism, but I have photos of the celebration that was held afterwards. My whanau were all dressed up and it looked like quite a significant event.

 

While some parents chose not to baptise, this was often because they were Baptists or members of other evangelical Protestant denominations that did not believe in baptising children, as opposed to them eschewing Christianity altogether. So engrained was infant baptism in our culture, that it was not uncommon for nurses to perform emergency baptisms when newborn babies were not considered likely to survive.

 

That would never happen today. It is no secret Aotearoa New Zealand is far more secular today than it has ever been. When I first became part of the St Mark’s community some 20 years ago, we would have up to around 80 people here on a typical Sunday morning, if I remember correctly. These days, we are doing well if we hit the mid twenties. The 2018 census results showed that almost half of the population reported no religious identity, a figure I fully expect to be a majority when the results of this year’s census are released. Of those who do identify with a religious tradition, Christianity retains the largest adherence overall, but the numbers would be noticeably lower if it wasn’t for migration from strongly Christian countries like the Philippines and other Pacific nations.

 

And not only are we reaching the point where those who do not identify with any particular religious tradition will soon comprise a clear majority, many parents today will not even let their children participate in any kind of Church activities. It was not that long ago that people who did not consider themselves religious did not usually have a problem with their children attending Church programmes. But these days, many parents won’t, because they fear their children might be sexually abused. And can we honestly blame them?

 

While sexual abuse also happens in schools, children’s homes, and anywhere else where there is a combination of vulnerable young people and predators with the power to prey on them, it is particularly disturbing that this happens in an institution that  not so long ago was seen as something of a moral guardian in society as well a safe haven for all.

 

And sadly, this is the only sin of the Church; its complicity in antisemitism, war, colonisation, slavery, and controlling and silencing women cannot be overlooked. There are politics and power games and egos and ambitions and nepotism. And there are some people in authority who quite frankly shouldn’t be there.

 

And don’t get me started on the Church rejecting people on the basis of how they were created, toxic fundamentalism, and the truly evil psychological abuse of frightening people into believing that if they don’t undergo a precisely defined conversion experience, they will go to hell, which I would call the most harmful false doctrine ever constructed; what is translated as hell in the Bible is actually a valley outside Jerusalem, where people’s bodies were burned after the Romans sacked Jerusalem in 70 CE. But I digress.

 

All up, the Church has got a lot to answer for, and I must say I have been pretty disappointed by the overall response of the Church to its wrongdoings. Quite frankly, we need to own it better and atone for it.

 

So why would we want to subject a child to an ancient ritual in an institution that seems not only seems no longer relevant to many but is seen by some as an unsafe environment for a child?

 

Well, I would argue that, despite its sketchy past, its flaws, and its diminishing role in public life (exceptions like royal coronations and state funerals aside), the Church still has a lot to offer.

 

The Church is the Body of the Christ in the world. We may not always get it right, but we are good news for the poor, release for the captives, recovery of sight for the blind, and liberty for those who are oppressed. Our primary purpose is being a community establishing justice and peace on Earth here and now. We are not a fire insurance policy for when we die.

 

Life in Aotearoa New Zealand today is very different today from what it was like when I was a child. We can now buy fresh strawberries in the middle of winter, adorn our homes with consumer goods our parents could never have dreamed of, and access much of the world and its knowledge through a device we carry in our pockets. But there is also deprivation at a level that simply did previously not exist in my living memory. Beggars have long been part of the landscape, and walking past people sleeping on the street while on the way to work is now normal. And those of us who do work seem to be working harder and for longer hours than ever before.

 

We have become so focused on the material aspects of life that many have lost any meaningful connection with anything beyond that. It would be all too easy to think we are born, we live, and we die, and that is it.

 

But I say our existence does not end there and it is not confined to the physical world. I say there is also a spiritual world that can be compared with – but is not necessarily synonymous with - the higher dimensions proposed in theoretical physics that we cannot directly experience.

 

I also say the physical and spiritual worlds can and do meet. and this what the Celts refer to when they speak of thin places, where the veil between this world and another world is thin, thereby bringing us closer to that other world.

 

The physical and spiritual worlds meet we are born. They meet when we die. They meet when we have spiritual or unworldly experiences that have no rational explanation. And, remembering the primary purpose of the Church I spoke of earlier, I believe they meet when we when we feed the hungry, refresh the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit those in prison; Jesus the Christ said that when we do these things, we do them for him.

 

And they also meet when we partake in sacraments like baptism, and the Eucharist, which we will be sharing later this morning.

 

A sacrament is perhaps most typically described as being an outward sign of an inward grace, a definition we can trace back to St Augustine of Hippo. But I would take it further than this. I see a sacrament as being both material and divine in nature, something that brings the physical and spiritual worlds I have just been speaking of together. It is like a portal between the two.

 

Through the sacrament of baptism, we are cleansed and take on a new life. And the water is the outward physical sign of the inward spiritual grace that is imparted to us.

 

The original version of baptism was the Tvilah, a ritual purification ceremony undertaken by converts to Judaism. Later, St John the Baptiser offered a baptism of repentance for people who were mostly already Jews and who wanted to change their ways. And baptism ultimately become the sacrament of initiation into the Church. All of us who are members of the Church became part of the Church family through baptism, as [name of a child - redacted] will shortly.

 

But wait, there’s more. As well as being the day of [name of a child - redacted]’s baptism, today is also the Day of Pentecost, a principal feast day, so there is no way I can get away with not mentioning it. The text we heard earlier from the Acts of the Apostles describes the outpouring of the Spirit that empowered the gathered community nearly 2,000 years ago, which is considered to be the birthday of the Church.

 

Along with schools, businesses, charities, the government, and any other institution comprising humans, the Church has its flaws. But they are our flaws.

 

In his song ‘Anthem’, Leonard Cohen sang:

 

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in.

 

The cracks in the Church can open our eyes to God’s unfailing love comforting a bruised Church and healing a broken world.  And that's how the light gets in.

 

As flawed as the Church may be, it offers light to a world that right now needs light more than ever.

 

I am grateful [name of a child - redacted] is going to add to its numbers, and in doing so make this light shine a little brighter. May she be blessed and empowered to play her small part in helping to heal a broken world.

 

 

 

 

Darryl Ward
28 May 2023