In the Journey

​I always struggle with this morning’s Gospel reading. Jesus heals the daughter of the Syrophoenician woman. But I don’t know what to make of Jesus’ initial, seemingly harsh response to her.
 
A bit of context. To this point in the Gospel, Jesus has basically limited his ministry to the children of Israel. Israelites in the first century didn’t much like Syrophoenicians. To them, Syrophoenicians were pagan “others.” Few Israelites of the time would have been bothered by what Jesus said. As we know from Matthew’s account of this story, Jesus’ disciples certainly weren’t (15:23).
 
Today we are a lot more likely to be bothered.
 
But whatever we make of Jesus’ dog comment, two things are clear. First, Jesus does heal the woman’s daughter. By extension, we can see that Jesus’ ministry is not in fact limited to the children of Israel. Jesus comes for people from every race and nation, including Syrophoenicians, including us, including anyone else we might be inclined to think of as “them.” We need always to remember that.
 
Second, and more relevant for us this morning, Jesus blesses those he has adopted as his children, the ones who will be fed first in his analogy. That lesson is relevant for us because we are participating in the adoption of two of those children this morning: Titus and Percy.
 
In a few minutes, we will baptize Titus and Percy in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. We’ll mark Titus and Percy with holy oil and the announcement that they are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. And then we will welcome Titus and Percy into the household of God as the newest members of the body of Christ, the newest children Christ came to feed.
 
This is a big deal! Baptism represents the sacramental beginning of the Christian life for these two young people.
 
It is important to add that baptism is just the beginning. Baptism is the beginning of a life-long Christian journey, to our final destination when we reach the “full stature of Christ.”
 
We call that journey “living into our baptisms,” learning to live truly as the children of God that we are thanks to our baptisms, learning to live lives of perfect love.
 
Last week, I had the great pleasure of going on a short backpacking trip with my son Benjamin. Mostly he and I talked about the kinds of things you talk about on backpacking trips: things like how much farther we need to go before the next break, and when can we eat, and whether it will rain.
 
I threw in old-man complaints about aches and pains and fatigue. I knew I had gone too far when Benjamin finally suggested, in all seriousness, that next time he would carry literally all of our stuff so that I didn’t even need to bring a backpack. I was a little embarrassed. And I may well take him up on his offer!
 
But Benjamin and I also talked about more serious things, about our life journeys to this point, and about our hopes for the future. That is to say, we talked about how we are living into our baptisms.
 
To Benjamin’s distress, in our conversations about his journey these days, I tend to focus pretty heavily on the question of potential marriage partners. The sad fact is, Benjamin continues to enjoy bachelor life in the big city. But Benjamin humors me, so he told me about a young woman he met not long ago.
 
This woman was raised in a casually Christian home, but recently experienced an awakening. She promptly joined an Episcopal Church and was thrilled to learn that Benjamin was the son of an Episcopal priest. I encouraged Benjamin to propose as soon as he got back to Chicago. I don’t think he followed my advice.
 
This young woman’s journey is interesting, even separate from the question of whether she will be the mother of my grandchildren.
 
Two things about her journey strike me as important.
 
First and inevitably, she has experienced growing pains as she has entered the Episcopal Church. She is still getting used to how we do things, particularly things which differ in some important respects from her previous denomination. Those differences are forcing her to reflect, in what sounds like a really healthy way, on what exactly she believes and why, and how she wants to be in her new Church home.
 
I am not currently experiencing the level of change and growth that this young woman is. As of yesterday, I’ve been on this journey for fifty-nine years, and many things, perhaps too many things, are pretty settled for me by now.
 
But virtually all of us experience those kinds of growing pains at some point in our lives, especially when we are young and, like Benjamin’s friend, have to figure out who we are and how we want to be. That will be a task for Titus and Percy as they grow up.
 
Thankfully Christian young people don’t have to do that alone. That’s one of the beautiful consequences of baptism. The baptized have the benefit of a supportive community of faith, of parents and godparents who commit to raising them in the Christian faith and life, of the guidance of the Church and the touch of the Holy Spirit.
 
None of that makes growing easy. But all of it will help Titus and Percy to grow in the right direction, towards God, as it has helped and continues to help, those of us who were baptized long ago.
 
The second thing Benjamin’s young woman is experiencing is growing self-awareness. She is becoming more aware of the subtle ways that sin can sneak in and corrupt even her best impulses. Increasingly she recognizes the power of sinful desires that can draw us from the love of God.
 
That recognition is also part of a growing Christian maturity for all of us.
 
When I was a child, I wanted to be a saint so that I could work miracles. Saint Peter was able to catch a fish with a coin in its mouth (Matthew 17:27). Peter’s shadow could work miraculous cures (Acts 5:15). I wanted to do the same kind of thing.
 
My childhood desire was mostly innocent. But it wasn’t particularly Christian. It was ultimately an ego thing. I wanted the glory that comes from being able to do amazing things no one else could do.
 
I am a little more subtle now. But my ego continues to infect much of what I do. And so I, like Benjamin’s young woman, like all baptized Christians, have to acknowledge my sin, repent, and return to the Lord. Over and over again, we have to renew our commitment to following and obeying Christ as our Lord. After every failure, we have to try once again to fulfil the royal law by loving our neighbors as ourselves.
 
That is the journey on which Titus and Percy embark this morning. That is the journey Benjamin’s young woman is taking. That’s the journey we are all on.
 
I pray that we can all continue to live ever more deeply into our baptisms. But my prayer today is especially for Titus and Percy. I ask that God will touch them in their baptisms this morning in a specially powerful way, that God will protect them on their journeys, and that God will bring them at last to the full stature of Christ.
 
In Christ’s name. Amen.