Nineteenth Pentecost
Baptism of Lucas Michael Cheifet
Sunday October 11, 2020
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. Amen.
There is something about our human nature – about living in this world – that causes us to take things for granted. I realized this a few weeks ago, when I an x-ray of my lungs revealed that they were not filling up to capacity. Even when I thought I was taking a deep breath in, the oxygen wasn’t reaching down to inflate the lower spaces of my lungs. So now I have a little gadget, that is supposed to exercise my lungs – exercise my breathing – something that before now, I never would have given a second thought about – breathing - because breathing is something I’ve obviously been doing since the moment I was born.
Well, this morning, as Christians and Episcopalians, we are about to engage in two sacraments Jesus offered us through his life, which we have done since the first century, first in home-churches, then in beautiful cathedrals, and even in our little church here on Main Street since 1966. Week in and week out, just as naturally and rhythmically as breathing. We would take Communion, the bread and the wine together, and Baptisms were scheduled regularly, naming child after child (some times even adults) as Christ’s own forever.
Except for that time . . . this time . . . when we fled our church building for the safety of our own homes back in March, just about 8 months ago, because of the COVID19 pandemic; and we haven’t participated in the Eucharist since. Missing the Eucharist, for me, has felt a little bit like how I feel when trying to preach with this mask – it’s been a little suffocating, like I’ve been missing that oxygen from my lungs. That is, until today. Finally, today, we gather, still outside of our building, around this altar of our Lord, and as a community, we partake in Christ’s Body. Oxygen. Sustenance and renewal. Life.
My prayer, of course, for Lucas as he is baptized into this household of God – and for all of us gathered here today, including all of you gathered around your computer, your phone, or television at home, is that we never take for granted the presence of Jesus in our lives. Just like breathing. John’s Gospel prologue reads, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God . . . . And the Word became flesh [The Word, Jesus, took a breath! Just like you and me] and lived among us.” Or as one biblical translation states, “became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.”
So take 30 seconds right now just to think about – to acknowledge the wonder of our breathing. In one beautiful fell-swoop we breathe in life-giving oxygen. Then we breathe out the leftovers, expelling the waste and emptying ourselves for the next breath in. This air we breathe in is meant for our lungs and heart – it goes straight to the core, a direct shot into the most vulnerable places of our bodies. Respiration is our sustenance and renewal.
Today, the same is true about the Eucharist which we will share. God who became the bearer of flesh so that we might bear the Spirit forever, said St. Athanasius, inspires us – enabling us to ‘receive’: from one another, from God, from the creation. When we expire, we give. We give back to the world. Serving one another, this community, the world. God sent breathe – think of it – into Adams nostrils. It was at this moment, and not before or after, Adam was given life. Breathed right into existence. IT’s the climax of the creation story. Lucas now joins this life with us – this breathing in and breathing out – our physical life joined to our spiritual life, as Fr. Richard Rohr would say. One of my favorite images, and truths about our spiritual life is that God, through Christ who breathed in and out just as we do, is therefore as close to us as our next breath. My prayer is that you spend some time focused on your breath, and know that God is in each and every one.
Amen.
