Thursday, June 29, 2017

At the Font, We Start our Journey

In the United Methodist hymnal, there is a lovely baptismal hymn that begins "At the font we start our journey, in the Easter faith baptized."  I may think that my sabbatical began last week, but the truth is, I've been traveling towards this moment in time for a good many years.


This is a picture of one side of the very large baptismal font at Salisbury Cathedral, and it is a quote from the prophet Isaiah, a beautiful promise from the God who goes with us through the waters and brings us out into a new land as a new people.

I was not baptized at this particular font or indeed at any font.  Having grown up Baptist, I was "dunked" all the way under at about age 12 in a large tank directly behind the stained glass window featuring symbols of each of the twelve disciples at Tabor City Baptist Church.  I remember it vividly, that feeling that something special and holy was happening to me.  And now as a United Methodist pastor, I sometimes hold babies in my arms, look into their infant eyes, and I tell them that God has called them by name and that they belong to Jesus.  I tell them and their parents and their church families that their journey of faith is beginning at the font where the waters of baptism are poured or sprinkled over their heads, as the Holy Spirit rests upon them as upon Jesus at his baptism.

My baptism has taken me to a number of places, including seminary, ordination, and now this opportunity of a lifetime.  This sabbatical journey has already taught me a few things.  My luggage was misplaced/lost/in outer space/in a black hole for SIX days at the start of this trip.  Six. Days.  Without clean clothes.  (Other than the few I always pack in my carry-on for just such an emergency.)  SIX DAYS!!!!!!  It was annoying, especially because it was hard to reach a live human being who actually knew where my stuff was, and it involved extra expense as we had to wash clothes and purchase some necessities, not knowing when our stuff would finally get to us.   When it FINALLY arrived, I was so excited.  It was like Christmas, opening the bag up and seeing what was inside.  But it occurred to me that John Wesley would have said, "Really?  You have too much, anyway!  Why aren't you living more simply? Why aren't you sharing more with those who really need it?"

I managed pretty well without all those things so carefully packed.  Honestly, I don't need the majority of those shirts, anyway.  It's more about fashion and comfort than strict necessity.  So I wonder what else I am needlessly carrying around.  Literal stuff like these clothes or even (gasp!) books?!  Feelings of guilt or relentless perfectionism or a sense of entitlement or, well, you fill in the blank.  How might this experience of re-visiting the sacred sites of the Wesleyan revival help me find peace for my soul and new excitement for my ministry?  How will this be an important way-station along the journey that started at the font so many years ago?

At the font we start our journey, in the Easter faith baptized...

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