We celebrate Jesus’ resurrection today—that tremendous, impossible-to-grasp act of love. From his baptism, Jesus is linked heart, spirit, and body to God’s shalom–God’s great love and enduring peace. He lives out God’s kingdom here on earth in everything he says and does. As Peter says in today’s readings, with the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus spreads the good news throughout Judea and beyond, doing good and healing those who are oppressed by evil forces. He does this fearlessly and doggedly until his power–God’s shalom–threatens the human powers around him so much that they murder him as publicly and brutally as possible. And yet, his life and God’s shalom are so inextricably, mysteriously linked that he lives again, disappearing from the tomb, rising from the dead.
We can’t do that.
Isaiah, too today, writing thousands of years before Jesus, tells us of a time when God’s kingdom, God’s perfect blessing and peace, will come to God’s people, where they will all be intimately connected to God (before they call, God says, I will answer), a time when no human power can hurt or destroy.
We don’t live there.
So, where is God’s kingdom? And to use the Godly Play question, who are we in this story?
Well, we’re not Jesus. And I’m guessing God’s kingdom feels far away right now for most of us. But there are people in this story who can maybe show us the way.
There are the women, right? Women going to the tomb–at great risk to their own safety–to anoint and care for their beloved Master’s body. And when two strangers in dazzling white show up and send them to tell their friends that Jesus is not there, that he has risen from the dead, they don’t hesitate; they go back to their people, the 11 disciples and the others who love Jesus, and share that gift of incredible, impossibly good news.
Those of you who have been around for a while know I always read a children’s book as part of my Easter reflection. As I thought about what story to read this Easter, Maurice Sendak’s A Kiss for Little Bear popped into my mind . I thought it was because it was the book our priest, Pat, read at Phoebe’s baptism 20 years ago. But the Spirit runs deeper than that, and when I went back to read the story, I saw those women from Luke.
Like the women, Little Bear misses someone he loves, his Grandmother. He decides to send her a picture that he has just made that makes him happy. And this act of caring is met with a kiss, love, shalom, that grandmother asks Hen to pass on to Little Bear. And Hen says to Grandmother–this part matters!–”Yes, I would be happy to do that, and takes the kiss to give to Little Bear.”
When I asked A. a while back if she had any questions about baptism, she (I think brave to ask your priest this!), said, “I guess my main question is why get baptized?” Which honestly is just such a great question, and I’m so happy to be a priest in a time where the answer isn’t “Well, because that’s just what we do.”
But it’s also a really hard question to answer, especially when that “because everybody gets baptized” response doesn’t work anymore, and I don’t think I ever got to the heart of it when she and I talked. So I’m going to try one more time. A., I think the reason is because when we get baptized, God gives us a blessing, a loving kiss from Grandmother, if you will, and asks us, like Hen, to pass it on.
And then during that baptism, we take some really specific vows about how to do that, how to walk through life passing God’s shalom on to others. But first, like Hen, we have to say yes, I’d be happy to do that—I’d be happy to be a person that passes that kiss, that love on.
Now, as Hen says, this passing on can get pretty mixed up. As time goes by, we get distracted. Sometimes we want to hang out with friends, sometimes we get tired, sometimes we just need to cool off for a while. At those times, though, lucky for us, others, baptized before us, keep passing that shalom on when we don’t. Sometimes those people are right there for us; sometimes, like Cat, they might get a little grumpy about it. But because they also believe in the value of that loving kiss, that shalom, they carry it on.
Sometimes, too, God’s kiss, God’s great love, gets stalled as we, like the little skunks, focus our love on a person who is especially precious to us, and it’s hard to remember to look outside that love. And then another shalom carrier comes along to remind us to keep it going, or just carries it for us a little while until we are ready to take it up again. Because those places along the way where the kiss gets stalled can also be part of the shalom, places where we find rest and cool water, friendship, deep and abiding love for another human or three.
This is why baptism is something we do with our whole faith community gathered here–because carrying God’s shalom needs a whole pile of people who say yes to carrying it into the world. And when that happens, when we keep the kiss going, helping one another when needed, sooner or later–as Isaiah and Peter and Jesus and A Kiss for Little Bear all promise in different ways–we’lll find our way to a great banquet, a wedding feast fit for a king, to which everyone—everyone!—is invited.
All because one day someone asked you if you wanted to be baptized, to carry God’s kiss, God’s shalom—and you said, yes, I’d be happy to.
The Lord is Risen!
Sunday Morning Words 