I had two very disparate experiences of water this past week and a half. The first was up at the Newman Center when the deluge of rains raised the water table enough to allow a series of slow seepages of water through a few seams in the foundation. They were just trickles. Barely enough to float a speck of dust on. Hardly enough, seemingly, to make much of a difference. Yet, just enough to keep the quick drying cement from being able to set IN the crack itself to seal the leak. And just enough, because of the location of the cracks in relation to the floor drains, to soak about 90% of the carpet that covers the basement floor, making it a sodden, smelly, moldy mess. And as I spent time with the shop vac, trying my best to get as much water as I could OUT of the carpet, and setting up fans and dehumidifiers to try and dry it out, I wondered: Who would think that so little a flow of water could do so much damage?
The other experience of waster was Thursday morning on vacation. Our vacation spot is 175 yards from the best snorkeling reefs you can access from Grace Bay. So I would be out there twice a day, enjoying the beauty of the reefs. However, on Thursday, whether because of an offshore storm or the confluence of a major high tide, these huge waves were crashing over the protective reef sheltering the bay. Those waters came rushing in and sent large waves crashing on the beach, stirring up sediment that made visibility less than a foot and a half. And it created this strong current that made making headway with flippers difficult and without them, nigh impossible. After nearly crashing into a section of the reef that I knew was there, but simply could not see till I was a foot away from crashing into it, I called it a morning on the snorkeling.
So here is my wonder about these two disparate images of water. I wonder if I/we as members of St. Ann parish are content to think of the waters of Baptism as if they were like that little trickle in the Newman Center basement. Not much flowing. Just enough to make our spirits wet and our consciences aware of God; just enough so that we have to shop vac the residue of grace into action by our prayer and our stewardship, but not much more. It is an annoyance. But, unlike the people in the Meramec River valley who lost homes and possessions and lives, it doesn’t cost us too much.
In reality, I believe that God wants us to know the waters of Baptism like those waves I experiences on Thursday morning – crashing over the protective reefs we place in our lives, overwhelming our defenses, pouring in this knowledge into our souls that we, LIKE JESUS, are the beloved of God. And because God is pouring that Grace into us that strongly and powerfully, then we are to be swept along in the current of God’s grace, to come face to face with all that still needs to hear and see, in us, the good news of salvation.
I wonder what my faith life would be, and what my witness would be, if I let THAT image of the waters of Baptism be what I think about each morning and try to live each day? Where will the waters send me today? What situation, what need, what neighbor, what law, what opportunity will I be blessed AND challenged to address because I have let the flow of the grace of my baptism take me there?
[Confirmation students – that is precisely the formation you have begun today – to become awake to that flow of grace that has been there in your life since the day of your baptism. To stir into flame the grace poured into your hearts, and to say a resounding YES to the spirit’s movement in your life. We, the parish family, promise to pray for you and with you as you make the journey to confirmation.]
What is your image of the waters of baptism? A trickle? Or a torrent? What might this St. Ann parish be the day we really trust those waters are crashing into us, moment by moment – confirming in us what we truly are – God’s beloved sons and daughters – sent to bring the good news to all?