Making What is True Real
A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California on the occasion of Kamila Suzana Olmer’s baptism.
Alleluia, Christ is Risen!
The Lord is Risen Indeed, Alleluia.
To which I want to say, “easy for us to say!”
Because this morning we find the disciples still hold-up together in a locked house. Still terrified. Still acutely grief-stricken. And then ... the risen Christ appears to them! Speaks to them, breathes on them. But, one of them was missing.
Thomas was off somewhere else. Doing errands? Who knows. Whatever it was, upon his return, his friends tell him what happened. And he says, “unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
And so, as it happens, in a matter of days, the risen Christ appears once again. And this time Thomas is there. And Jesus invites Thomas to indeed put his finger on his side. To see, to touch, to hear. To allow his senses to take it all in. And in this moment, what was already true — Christ is Risen from the dead — becomes real.
For Thomas, that was the Alleluia moment. That was Easter. When his whole body — not just his intellect — took part in this great mystery of God’s boundless love for us. When it became real.
And, this business of making what is already true real? This is the work of the church.
When we change our surroundings in this room five times as we walk through Holy Week, and allow our senses to take in the truth of the story; when we ring bells and shout “Alleluia!”; When we sing; When we are anointed with oil of the sick; When we taste soup made with love by members of the Casserole Brigade; When our feet ache from marching for justice side-by-side; when our feet are washed by our friends; When our hands gently prepare food for unhoused neighbors, or iron and fold linens for the altar, or arrange flowers for the sanctuary; When we hear the voice of a church member comforting us; When we feel the shift in the breeze as another passes us while walking the labyrinth; When we align our breath with others as we practice mindfulness; When we erupt in laughter together. Or in tears.
When we feel and see and smell and taste bread and wine, the Body and Blood of Christ, each week. When the waters of baptism wash over us, and the sweet chrism oil is spread on our forehead in the shape of a cross.
When we do these things – expose our senses to them — the truth and hope and justice of God’s love for all people becomes real. Over and over and over. This is our sacramental life, together.
And to make the truth of God’s love —of the belovedness of all people — real is a pretty miraculous thing in this world; so full of the same kind of violence and grief and oppression the disciples were experiencing in that locked house so long ago. The same kind of violence and grief and oppression (some might call this sin) that obscures the truth.
God knows Thomas is not unique. God created us, after all. God knows that for something to be real, we need to experience it. Not just read about it. Not just believe it because we’re supposed to. Not just memorize it. In Luke’s Gospel, when the disciples start to prevent parents from bringing their little children to Jesus, “that he might touch them,” he says, “let the little children come.”* Let them feel the truth. Let it be made real.
In just a few minutes, we will welcome Kamila into this reality. She will be marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit and become a member of the Body of Christ. And, at that moment, she will be woven into this cosmic community – made of those who came before us (included blessed Thomas), those here today, and those not yet born – this church.
Some of us gathered here may never see one another again. But we are in community forever. This particular community that supports and loves this child. This community that commits to praying for and guiding her. In making God’s love real.
And what a special gathered community she has. Two wonderful godparents, Lucas and Danielle, extended family from near and far who even brought a special baptismal bowl used in family baptisms for years; parents – Lana and Caitlyn — deeply committed to surrounding her with the love of God. And crucially, the people of St. John’s. And whether you have been going here for decades, or you are a visitor, or this is your first time, you are the people of St. John’s. You, church, are reaffirming your own baptismal promises committing to support not only Kamila, but one another in making what is true real.
I hope the children here today will help us bless the holy water when the time comes, so they can feel the in the movement of that water the swirling presence of God’s love. And as that same water is poured on Kamila’s little head, that love – that swirling love – will become real for her.
As we were preparing for this day, Kamila’s mom Lana shared with me a favorite piece of scripture from the Prophet Jeremiah. They are words of comfort and hope. Moving words to be passed from a parent to a child, and a testament to the reality of God’s constant presence and goodness.
I would like to share them with you:
“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me.”
True words. Let’s go make them real!
**This sermon was inspired by Bishop Jeffrey Lee, who said:
“The Roman Catholic sacramental theologian Bernard Cooke says that sacraments do not make true, they make real. We do not baptize little babies (or anyone else for that matter) so that God will love them. God already loves them. We baptize them to bring them into a community of faith that can demonstrate what that truth looks like, feels like. The newly baptized become living, breathing limbs and members of the Body of Christ, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit, the touch of Christ might be extended in time and space.
What follows then? How shall we live this new life so that it might be real? There are five promises in our baptismal rite following the creed that point the way for us. I call them the ‘So what?’ questions.”
*Kamila’s parents shared that this passage is particularly important to Kamila’s grandmother.