Named
Isaiah 43:1-7; Luke 3:13-22

January 11, 2004

There is no stealing when it comes to the Christian tradition. We borrow all sorts of ideas, language, and programs from one another and it’s all legitimate. A few members of my congregation had gone down to a family baptism at a Presbyterian church, and there hung in the sanctuary for the occasion was a baptismal banner. Our members came back so enthusiastic they set right to work and made one for our church.

It was about four feet by six feet with velcro strips diagonally across the banner to receive the felt letters of the baptized child’s name. I usually was the one to put the letters on, and it was a real dilemma if the name had too many “e’s” or “g’s” - actually too many of any letter could be a problem if one didn’t set the banner up early in the week.

The scripture at the top of the banner is today’s Old Testament reading: “I have called you by name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1). The banner was colourful and festive and helped establish a very special atmosphere for the holy sacrament. When parents arrived with their child, they knew we were expecting them with joy.

Years later one Sunday in May, I received a call during our fellowship hour after worship to rush to the hospital. One of our grade 12 students had contracted that fatal virus that goes straight to the heart and he died. The whole town was in shock as we prepared for the memorial service. It was going to be so big we did not have the seating capacity in the church, so it was moved across the street to the town auditorium that seated 1000.

Derek was a remarkable young man who refused to march to anyone else’s beat. He was an Eagle Scout when few bothered to work that hard. He was the first ever male cheerleader for the high school who enable the very athletic cheerleading troupe to toss their 95 lb star 10-15 feet into the air - because they knew Derek would always catch her. He played the trombone, so one of his fellow youth group member - an accomplished trombone player - came back from university to play an unusual trombone solo. I even changed the words of 1 Corinthians 15:51-52, familiar from the Messiah, “we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trombone. For the trombone will sound and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” No one seemed to notice, or perhaps they agreed.

It was a pretty bare stage in the auditorium with a dreadfully coloured huge stage curtain behind us. Not very churchy or worshipful. But I had an idea and I called up Derek’s parents. What about the baptismal banner with Derek’s name on it. They agreed; there was no more critical time than now to declare, yes, to shout, “I have called you by name, Derek, you are mine!”

In this dark world, in which technology seems to work toward a more efficient violence, there are more and more people who are not claimed by anyone, nor claimed to be of any worth, given no names.

Isaiah heard the same complaint in the sixth century B.C., a very dark world of exile and cultural namelessness. But Isaiah heard then God’s still small voice become quite loud, “I have called you by name.” The name was Israel, then. Today, who knows whose name will be called?

When Jesus came down to the Jordan to be baptized, his cousin John had already announced him as the dry Baptist, the baptizer by the Holy Spirit and by fire. No name was given. Isn’t the climactic moment in any baptism when the minister asks the parents for the name of the child?

The passage is unclear, for it appears John the Baptist was put into prison by the evil Herod before Jesus was baptized. Nevertheless, after the water when Jesus was praying, the Holy Spirit descended in a form like a dove and there was a voice. “You are my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.” Maybe not a full name, but I think we’d settle for “Beloved Son” any day.

Fred Craddock, the professor of preaching some of us know, was vacationing with his wife at a resort in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee. An elderly gentleman invited himself into their company, and upon finding out that Craddock was a minister embarked upon his own story. Craddock was later told that this older man was a former Governor of the state.

“I was born back there in these mountains, and when growing up I attended Laurel Springs Church. My mother was not married, and as you might expect in those days, I was embarrassed about that. At school I would hide in the weeds to eat my lunch alone because the other children were very cruel. And when I went to town with my mother, I could see the way people looked at me, trying to guess who my daddy was.

“The preacher at Laurel Springs Church fascinated me, but at the same time he scared me. He had a long beard, a rough hewn face, a deep voice, but I sure like to hear him preach.

“However, I didn’t think that I was all that welcome at church, so I would go just for the sermon, and as soon as it was over, I would rush out so nobody would say, ‘What’s a boy like you doing here in this church?’

“One day, though, I was trying to get out, but some people were standing in the aisle, so I had to remain. I was waiting, getting into a cold sweat, when all of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked out of the corner of my eye and realized it was the face of the preacher. And I was scared to death.

“The preacher looked at me, but didn’t say a word. He just looked at me and then he said, ‘Well boy, you’re a child of...’ and he paused. I knew he was going to try to guess not who my mother was, but who my father was.

“The preacher said, ‘You’re a child of...um, Why, you’re a child of God! I see a striking resemblance, boy!’ He swatted me on the bottom and said, ‘Go claim your inheritance!’”

Then the old man telling the story turned to Craddock and said, “I was born on that day!”

Named too. I assume in Tennessee that was a Baptist preacher, and maybe the old Governor had been immersed in the baptismal river, and maybe not yet. But that day there was a baptism of the Holy Spirit and of fire that refined and redefined who he was. When you and I and our children are baptized, and we are all asked, ‘What is the name of this child?’, the purpose is to find out which part of the image of God, which branch of God’s family you are coming from.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan