Ready for a Name That Fits?

Years ago, everyone from funeral homes to auto repair shops were giving out pens, matchbooks, calendars --whatever would keep the name of their business stuck to your refrigerator and foremost in your mind. Names are important. And men are particularly good at naming folks. Brutally honest, really. Fat Joey and The Neck are a few that come to mind from my days leading a group of terrific but unconventional men on a ground support crew. Sometimes it's pretty obvious how we've gotten our name or nickname --my friend born in December is Holly. Other monickers are not so apparent. Take John the Baptist, for instance.

Why was John the Baptist called "the baptist;" not "the preparer" or "revealer" (Isaiah 40:3-5)? Could he not have been called "the herald" (Luke 1:13-17)? What was it about his ministry of baptism that identified him above everything else he did? Might it have been what he didn't do as well as what he did do?

Look at John 1:26-33. In just these few verses, God through John (another John, the apostle) points out three times that John the Baptist "baptized with water." Safe to assume, there must be some distinction worth noticing. 

In the Old Testament, God gave His people the practice of immersion. A ceremonial cleansing took place, usually, at a location in which water flowed naturally, a mikveh. Immersion in this special place or pool of water symbolized purification, consecration, and spiritual cleansing. For converts to Israelite faith, the immersion marked a turning away from old practices and entry into the community; a decision to live in right standing before God and His people in covenant relationship. Likewise, the baptism offered by John the Baptist was representative of one's turn from sin toward a new life of righteousness. But in preparation for the Messiah's arrival. This wasn't the same old Wash.Rinse.Repeat. (Pun absolutely intentional!) John heralded the coming of a Greater Sacrifice. No more would Isreal have to live under the burden of slaughtered animals and the shedding of blood. An All-Sufficient Mediator and High Priest would come to atone for all sin. There was to be a better way, the Way of Life, rather than the ritual way of perpetual death that had been Judaism's only hope for forgiveness. People believed John the Baptist's words, they longed to prepare through repentance their hearts and their lives for the Messiah's coming, and they waded into the water to begin new life in hope. Immersion, or baptism (from baptizo in the Greek), a familiar tradition to the people of Israel was now, at the hands of John the Baptist, a belief in Who was to come, the One who could do what all the bathing could not, the One who could cleanse them and cleanse us from all sin. This was about rebirth, the severing of oneself from the former, walking toward the new, and trusting the coming Messiah was its source.

Yes, John the Baptist prepared the people by bringing the message of Jesus. Yes, he revealed the truth of ages-old prophecies and their fulfillment in Jesus. Yes, he was herald to a king --The King of kings. But his role as a baptizer made him the catalyst for transformation. His role as baptizer made him the link between the Old Testament and its fulfillment in Jesus Christ. His role as baptizer presented all those who would with the opportunity to publicly fix their eyes on their Savior, follow His law, and receive His gift of forgiveness and newness of life when the time had come. John the Baptist did not change hearts, but he spoke to them the message he was called to deliver, and when they responded, he celebrated at the waters with them. 

Baptism remains the God-given testament of rebirth in the life of every believer. The Great Commission of Matthew 28:19, instructs us --all believers! --to go into the world and baptize others as a symbol of their repentance and acceptance of the lordship of Jesus. Are you ready to make disciples? Are you ready for a new name?

Midweek: Step Eleven

Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went home. And in his upper room, with his windows open toward Jerusalem, he knelt down on his knees three times that day, and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as was his custom since early days.

~ Daniel 6:10

Long story short, Daniel had enemies. And they were trying to get him busted by the king. So, Daniel's enemies convinced the king to sign a decree prohibiting petition to any other authority but the king himself; that, of course, included prayer to God. Daniel clearly knew of the decree, but he would not allow that to stop him from praying to the One True God. Prayer was to him as eating is to us --three times daily (not including snacks). It was his sustenance and, for optimal health, should be ours as well. 

That's what Step Eleven says. From Walking the Twelve Steps with Jesus Christ:

I seek through prayer and meditation to improve my conscious contact with God as I understand Him, praying only for His will for me and the power to carry it out.

By improving our conscious contact with God throughout the day, we find the meat, the nutrients, the sustenance, the rest we require to handle life in the best possible way; in the way in which we were created to handle life.

We developed some bad habits. We sought to "do life" in a way other than the way our Owner's Manual (the Holy Bible) recommended. (And, I say "recommended" not because there is a better or equally efficient way, but because we choose; God admonishes, but we choose.) Connecting to God through prayer and meditation throughout the day, seeking His will as revealed in Scripture and through His Holy Spirit's intervention, receiving the power to obey --that is how we shed those old patterns of coping, and develop the ones we were always meant to use; the optimal means of doing life in this world, bringing glory to our Lord and remaining under His grace.

Grace is the very thing that empowers us to obey. Grace is often defined as "unmerited favor," and that is true. But what does that mean, and how do we respond? Well, if you think of it as God giving you what you don't deserve, what you have not earned, you might respond with gratitude. That gratitude might then lead you to want to obey, to do something "in return" for God's grace on your life. None of that is wrong. But when we're talking about lifelong patterns of bad or insufficient behaviors, things we have implemented our entire life to numb the pain or avoid confrontation or, perhaps, draw attention to ourselves that someone might rescue us from our own bad choices --when we're talking about those sorts of things, grace as I've defined it above can appear inadequate. Dallas Willard defined grace as God working in our lives to do what we cannot do on our own. That was a game changer for me. There is strength in that. There is assurance in that. God's grace is not simply pouring out favor in the form of a beautiful sunset or a smile from our grandchild; it is not only a sudden healing that leaves us feeling blessed and overwhelmingly appreciative. It is "When I don't have the strength to obey, You fortify me as I draw close to You." God's grace is mighty, mighty, mighty! The power to carry it out. Yes, it is intimate; yes, it is special. But God's grace is fashioned especially for each one of His children, specific to our needs and greater than we can imagine. As we pray and meditate on Scripture, we move ourselves into position to feel His presence, hear His voice, and receive His grace. Like stepping under the porch roof to get out of the rain, we draw near to Him and are safe from the torrents and temptations of life in a fallen world. Scripture reveals a new path, the right path; prayer connects us to the One who loves us beyond measure and will walk each step beside us, empowering us by His grace. 

What You See Is What You Get

One of the first things I noticed about our youngest was his incredible imagination: he can develop a story like no other! In his tales, the impossible becomes possible, the unbelievable becomes believable, and the unlikely becomes almost anticipated. It is a blessed gift to have childlike wonder residing right here in our home!

Annie Dillard, in her thoughtful narrative, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, hits on this childishness in a way that causes me to crave that innocence in myself again:   

When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own and hide it for someone else to find. It was a curious compulsion; sadly, I’ve never been seized by it since. For some reason, I always “hid” the penny along the same stretch of sidewalk up the street. I would cradle it at the roots of a sycamore, say, or in a hole left by a chipped-off piece of sidewalk. Then I would take a piece of chalk, and, starting at either end of the block, draw huge arrows leading up to the penny from both directions.

After I learned to write I labeled the arrows: SURPRISE AHEAD or MONEY THIS WAY. I was greatly excited, during all this arrow-drawing, at the thought of the first lucky passer-by who would receive in this way, regardless of merit, a free gift from the universe. But I never lurked about. I would go straight home and not give the matter another thought, until, some months later, I would be gripped again by the impulse to hide another penny.

The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But — and this is the point — who gets excited by a mere penny?

...if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get.

And isn't that just the truth of it? What you are willing to see is what you get. I once heard someone say, Those who place everything in God's hand will see God's hand in everything. What keeps us seeing the goodness of God in the everyday and the mundane, or catching our breath at the same Autumn colors bedecking the same tree in our same backyard every year; what keeps us seeing the newness of the spouse God has given us or the places He has called us to live for forty-seven of our fifty years; what keeps us grateful is seeing, and what keeps us seeing is poverty. The willingness to acknowledge there are things much greater than us and our full schedules. The willingness to remain small and poor and humble, and to know that God is big and rich and glorious. The willingness to see that the life He has granted you is a life given to no other human being on earth; the sunsets you have watched, the smiles you've returned, the last moments of a faithful and furry friend you have been permitted, the first cries you have heard --they have all been for you and you alone. Given you by a God who is writing your story as carefully as you wrapped that shawl around the shoulders of the sister with cancer. Gently, tenderly, and sometimes intensely with loving correction in mind, God has fashioned this life for you and each morning presented you with the mercies and opportunities you require for the day. Your life is as unique as you are, and perfect for you. 

Let us, with the wonder and innocence of trusting children, see all You have crafted for us, and never be ungrateful again.