I’ve always wondered why some folks are comfortable taking Communion, yet are reticent to be baptized. Why do you think that is so? [Comments from the congregation]. To me, we make the same public confession, whether we take the bread and the drink the cup of the Lord’s Supper or enter the chilly waters of the church baptistry.

Communion may feel more ‘communal’ by virtue of the fact that our practice here is to come to the Table in groups. Baptism may feel more ‘individual’ here because we enter the waters more or less alone, excepting the pastor who does the baptizing. Or do we?

While there were crowds who went to the River Jordan to be baptized by John (Matthew 3:1-12), whole households who were baptized together (Acts 16:15, 33), and even thousands at a time who flocked to the Jesus movement in the days of the early church (Acts 2:41) --at PCC this has not been our experience. Usually, it has been one person at a time, over a space of months, or sometimes, regretfully, even years.

Like church membership here, baptism is a decision many deliberate over a long time before embracing. In this place, there is often integrity in that delay. I think of Beth Peachey, who now serves the Mennonite Central Committee in Guatemala. She could easily have been baptized with her teenage peers when it was the expected thing to do. Instead, she waited until her college years, after her own faith had matured to a point where baptism seemed like the next step. She was then baptized in her home church in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

I think of Joshua Gall, who also waited to be baptized until he had passed his teenage years. He then asked Mary Meadows to baptize him, who had been his primary youth leader as a child. There is also Carrie Broadwell, who left the church for a season as a teenager during what she has often has called her ‘time in the wilderness’ (or something to that effect). Carrie returned to God and to the church during her college years, after hallmate, David Reese, asked her if she knew a good church in town. “Peace Community Church,” she replied without hesitation. “I think you’d like it,” she said.

“Do you go there?” David asked her.

There’s something to be said for recommending the church you don’t go to.

The gist of the story is that Carrie always credited David Reese for bringing her back into the fold, and David Reese always credited Carrie for helping him find this church. Behind them both were the providential movements of a Loving God.

It is not just young people who have braved the chilly waters of the PCC baptistry. I can’t forget some of our older members who felt the call to be baptized. One bore a deep fear of water and had never learned to swim. Yet, she overcame her fear in order to be baptized. It was that important to her.
Today, Linda joins this faithful procession of individuals and the many others who have cast their lot with Jesus in the baptismal waters of Peace Community Church.

Like celebrating Communion each month, baptism is a public declaration that, indeed, Jesus is Lord. Here in this land where freedom of religion is enshrined in the Bill of Rights, we must never forget that there are places on this planet where declaring Jesus as Lord in the public act of baptism leads to martyrdom, or being disowned by one’s family, or losing any chance of decent employment. Baptism is a direct challenge to religious and secular authorities and powers who seek our primary allegiance. Baptism is a bold statement that such allegiance belongs only to God.

Linda has described this process to me as “going 100%.” I think that is a good description of baptism. There is a profound surrender to God that is part of the journey to the baptismal waters.
While baptism is a very individual act, it is also a very communal act. Baptism is a public witness, a confession shared with other pilgrims and seekers of the Way. We are baptized into community–this is the context for our confession that ‘Jesus is Lord.’ We work out our salvation with others working out theirs, finding hope, strength, comfort, and challenge within the body of Christ.

I have been very intently watching the seasons change on my morning walks. This was the longest, most lingering autumn I’ve ever seen in my 55 years of life. Just as some trees lost all their leaves, others barely began changing colors, hovering between a lively green and a fiery red or striking yellow. In late November, the landscape of Morgan Street was a mixture of impending winter and nascent autumn.
As I absorbed the rich colors and the empty branches, side by side, I was so struck by the changing of the seasons as the rhythm of death and resurrection, built into the Song of the Universe. I was watching that song take place in all its beauty and barrenness. I was listening to it in my spirit.

Even as we enter the season of snow and lingering nights, we know that spring is around the corner. Everything ‘looks’ dead now, but it is not! The stark emptiness of winter is merely a preparation for the coming of spring. The cycle of death and resurrection is, indeed, written into the heart of all creation.
Baptism is a lot like this. It, too, enacts the rhythm of death and resurrection. In a brief moment, our whole self plunges into the watery depths and then rises up to new life. We yield to the Song of the Universe, and our bodies remember this moment for the rest of our lives. The act of baptism is ritual and symbol, but it is also high drama. We physically and visually identify with Jesus and share in his drama and his song.

Baptism is never the end of the journey. It is a new beginning among the many new beginnings that break forth in our spiritual lives. I don’t recall celebrating another baptism during Advent in our many years here, but it is extremely appropriate. During Advent we anticipate the coming of Jesus as an infant born in Bethlehem. In baptism, we identify with the continuing power of his story in our lives today.
Linda has spent a few years embedded in the life of this faith community before deciding to be baptized. She has become an integral part of this church. There are signs of her presence everywhere–in collecting cans, singing in the choir, suggesting that we keep bags near the Food Shelf so people who need items have a means to transport them. Linda’s home is a place of hospitality and welcome. Linda’s heart is as well.

We honor freedom of conscience here, which makes today all the more rich and powerful. Linda’s heart says to her, “It’s time.” And she opens herself to the work of the Spirit of the living God and says, “Here I am, Lord.”

Let us pray.