Let It Go

Preached before celebrating the Sacrament of Baptism

Ephesians 4:1-6

I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace: there is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

Sermon

Alright, if I had to guess, like 80% of us aren’t here for the sermon today. So let’s keep it a little low brow.

We start off with a quote from one of the defining films of the 2010s—Disney’s Frozen. We recall the lyrics from one of its most iconic songs. It’s this: “Let it go, let it go / Can't hold it back anymore… Let the storm rage on.”

Some days, we might feel like letting go is unbelievably freeing, like in that song from Frozen. It can be liberating to let go of expectations, or trying to win other’s approval, or even letting go of control. There’s an extremely popular book right now called, Let Them, which taps into this idea: letting go can bring wholeness into our lives.

On other days, we might feel like letting go is absolutely miserable. It can be frustrating to let go of our self-image, or our self-narrative, or our vision for the future. The other night in VBS, adults learned about Martin Luther, whose father wanted him to be a lawyer, and ended up with an excommunicated priest for a son. Letting go of our plans stinks.

“Letting go” might have been a reason for authoring the Epistle to the Ephesians. Divisiveness was eating away at early Christian assemblies, and that divisiveness led to imperiled relationships and real harm among communities.

We find Paul’s prescription and rationale for “letting go” of those divisions, hostilities, and lines in the sand. “Bearing with one another in love,” he says. “Maintain[ing] the unity of the Spirit.” It’s as if he’s saying, “Let go of power! And let go of your self-serving ways!”

“Maintain the unity of the Spirit.” The phrasing is important: we are not the ones who create and craft connection or peace. It is the Spirit who forms connection and peace within our lives. We acknowledge this in baptism: we aren’t gatekeepers of grace, and we aren’t in control of our lives or others’ lives. It is the Spirit who upholds, sustains, and preserves our lives, from birth, to death, to life beyond death.

Then Paul shows his work a little bit. “There is one body [of Christ] and one Spirit… one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God.”

“We aren’t gatekeepers of grace, and we aren’t in control of our lives or others’ lives. Instead, it is the Spirit who upholds, sustains, and preserves our lives from birth, to death, to life beyond death.”

As Presbyterians, we profess that by administering this sacrament of baptism, we do it as an act of the whole Church. This baptism isn’t an act of this congregation or denomination; it is an act of the church throughout time and space, the entirety of the one universal and apostolic church.

Today, we don’t get to claim this child as our own. Instead, we “let go” of this child, so to speak. We let him go into the arms and guidance of the Holy Spirit. None of us get to control where he will go in this world, what he will experience, or who he will meet and befriend. And so, we let go of this child into the care of the Spirit, who will guide him, teach him, bring him to unexpected places, and bring him back to the unique image that God has placed within him.

Those in this child’s life might want him to be a doctor or a lawyer—or maybe anything but a doctor or a lawyer—or maybe a Presbyterian or a Protestant; but ultimately, it is the Holy Spirit who call to him, lead him, and speak to him. As the church of Jesus Christ, all we can do is nudge him closer to the Spirit. No one in this room gets to decide who this child will be and what his calling in life will be.

“And so, we let go of this child into the care of the Spirit, who will guide him, teach him, bring him to unexpected places, and bring him back to the unique image that God has placed within him.”

As Presbyterians, we have a great big book called the Book of Common Worship. And in that big book of liturgy and prayers and services is one called a reaffirmation of baptism. A reaffirmation of baptism is often used after someone’s name or life has fundamentally changed. It might be due to a traumatic event, a name change—like after marriage—or a personal transformation—like those returning from incarceration.

In that liturgy, we reaffirm the grace and promises of God that are sealed in one’s baptism. And what’s interesting about that liturgy is that quite often, we almost always reaffirm a baptism that occurred in the past and a long distance away. It might have been a baptism administered by a Lutheran, or a non-denominational church, or a priest.

What that liturgy teaches us is that quite often, someone else will uphold the baptismal vows we make today.

No matter how much we hope for it and try to nurture him, there’s a pretty good chance that this child won’t remain Presbyterian his whole life, or even go to church.

And so we trust not only in the guidance and protection of the Holy Spirit, but also in the church universal. We let go of our self-interest, and let this child go into the expansive communion of the church. This child isn’t being baptized into this church family; he is being baptized into the whole communion of the people of God. This church isn’t the home he can always return to; it is the home of God—wherever and however that is found—that this child can always return to.

“We almost always reaffirm someone’s baptism that occurred in the past and a long distance away. It might have been a baptism administered by a Lutheran, or a non-denominational church, or a priest.”

So… today isn’t an arrival by any means. This isn’t a box to check, or a rite to complete. This is the diving board. This is where we let go, knowing there will be storms, and knowing there will be challenges in this child’s life. And yet, we still let go. Of self-interest, and control, and expectations, and the myth that we can protect him from pain. Today is when we ask the question “What’s next?” and let it go unanswered.

Praise be to God, we aren’t letting him go into a void or a lonely world. We are letting him go so that he may dive headfirst into the living water of God and the Holy Spirit. We’re letting him go into “one body [of Christ], one hope of [his] calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God,” who surely remains at work in him, in us, in the communion of the church, and of all creation.