Today as I was contacting folks about my book, I came across a church name that sounds full of baptismal spirituality: Ezekiel Lutheran Church.

Ezekiel: the Old Testament prophet who envisioned God breathing life back into dry bones (Ez. 37:1-14). From dryness to sinews, from death to life – that is God at work. And Ezekiel’s words long before Jesus and the church describe this amazing God and give a foretaste of baptismal spirituality.

So, Ezekiel sounds like a fine name for a church, even if a bit out of the ordinary. And as if the name’s not enough baptismal spirituality, the location of this congregation is River Falls (Wisconsin).

Let the baptismal waters flow, Ezekiel!

My wife and I used to talk about how the birth of our first child changed things in our lives, even little things. We lived in the Twin Cities at the time, she was working and I was at seminary. Money was tight, but occasionally we’d splurge: we’d go to Dunkin’ Donuts for a coffee and taste treat, spontaneously, even at 11:00 o’clock at night or later. You can guess how a baby changed all that! Spontaneous gave way to planning. And if the night was kind, eleven o’clock meant precious sleep.

Having a child is a milestone that changes many things. Carefree, spontaneous times may get sharply curtailed. A door is closed to “the old” life. At the same time another door is opened to life previously unknown. Milestones like having a child are endings and beginnings. And God is there…helping us cope with the loss, giving us eyes to see the grace.

Milestones can be great moments of baptismal spirituality. We can mourn our losses, sometimes so little we hardly notice, other times wrenching. We can open the door of our hearts to the new, often eagerly awaited, still other times dreaded. But the God of death and resurrection who comes as Jesus is in all these milestones; and if we are baptized into Christ Jesus, we are joined to him with his pledge to bring us through the drowning waters, gasping our way into new life.

I remember milestones in my own life; why don’t you do the same as I compile my list:
• the first time I showed a Holstein calf at the Trempealeau county fair,
• going deer hunting with my father
• getting my driver’s license (after failing the test the first time)
• going off to Luther College
• getting married
• sending our five year old off to kindergarten….
• retiring just two weeks ago (I’m just starting to work on this one).

These can be ordinary or powerful moments in our life, fearful or exciting. My personal list is just the beginning of a sampling. How would you add to it? How did you experience God and God’s faithfulness– or not – in those times? In a future post, I’ll point us to a wise and wonderful church ministry that connects with these moments.

Baptismal spirituality is about Christ making us new. Yesterday, the first Sunday in Advent and the first day of the new church year, brought that home to my heart in a couple ways.

Awaking while the world was still dark, I was surprised by a fresh layer of snow on the ground. As daylight arrived, a whole new scene unfolded before us. Some of us were surprised, others almost expecting it. The drab browns and grays of November were gone, replaced by a glistening white that impressed even the winter-haters. But just as the change to snow is not easy, neither is being new in Christ. For one, there is cold and shoveling and layers of clothing; for the other, surprise and shock and accepting this new person we are. Yet how good the new is in our lives. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow” (Isaiah 1:18).

My early morning devotion was a Dietrich Bonhoeffer reading* perfect for the beginning of Advent. Bonhoeffer wrote, “Luther…often said that, next to the Word of God, music is the best thing that human beings have… Luther knew that it has dried an infinite number of tears, made the sad happy, stilled desires, raised up the defeated, strengthened the challenged, and that it has also moved many a stubborn heart to tears and driven many a great sinner to repentance before the goodness of God. ‘O sing to the Lord a new song ‘ (Ps. 98:1).” *from I Want to Live These Days with You, p. 349

What God did in baptism – making us new in Christ – God continues daily in ordinary ways.

This Sunday, September 28, Christian pastors in no fewer than 22 states plan to use the bully pulpit of their congregation to endorse a presidential candidate or preach a political sermon. They do so knowing that this action can jeopardize the tax-exempt status of the church. That threat will not stop them. Some perhaps welcome this as a test.

Why are they so vehement about pursuing this action? They are convinced, as an LA Times article elaborates, that they are being prevented from preaching biblical truth, “what the Bible says.” They believe they need to speak out for or against a particular candidate because the Bible has one position and they know what it is.

So if they endorse McCain and condemn Obama because the latter’s position is “unbiblical” (or vice versa, though this stance is rarer), and if you worship in their congregation and have the opposite political stance, what is your place in that assembly? This is tough. You are more than of a different opinion, you are “unbiblical” – and that’s unacceptable. You probably will be called upon to see the error of your ways and repent. You may even be unwelcome in that community of faith if you hold to that position.

I am not arguing here about the serious threat to the church’s tax exempt status by this position – though that surely should not be minimized – but I am even more concerned that the radical inclusiveness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is jeopardized. The church is in danger of being a community of same-thinkers who have identified their position as the only one tolerated by the Bible. The wide scope of baptism is narrowed to “people like us” in politics.

The fact is the Bible is not of one political stance. It is a complex book of books, the product of individuals and communities over hundreds of years. Yes, it is inspired, but it is inspired for faith – to create faith, to nourish faith, to challenge faith. Its politics are always up for debate. Early on, Christian thinking on slavery wasn’t clear; it was debated and argued – far too long, of course. No less today than in Paul’s ministry, the issue of obedience to civil authorities gets varied responses – often in the same community of faith. The complex issues around life itself are not settled directly by the Bible as if there is one biblical position that is obvious without thought and debate. Think hunger, war, or capital punishment, for example.

These issues and many others are open for debate because the Bible doesn’t answer them directly. Some were not issues then. The answers take shape in believers and communities of faith as Christ is formed in us. When we were baptized, we were not given an immediate political position, but we were given Christ, an identity that is more radical than our politics. Our political positions may be deeply held and fiercely argued, but they are not so radical (rooted) as our being “in Christ” given to us in baptism.

When Christians or Christian pastors try to make one political stance the only acceptable one, they are shaping a community more in their own image than that of Christ’s. Instead of endorsing candidates and making the faith community a particular political party at worship, let our congregations talk about the issues and debate our responses. Let us argue what is biblical, yes, but also recognize the answers may not always be clearly one sided. Let us trust that Christian voters can be formed by the mind of Christ – even those who support the other candidate.

One of my personal thrills is to see the liberal and conservative opening their hands and hearts to receive the bread of communion together – or the Republican and Democrat, or the two friends who just finished a raised-voiced argument where neither convinced the other. Communing side by side. Receiving Christ who, so far as I know is neither a Democrat nor a Republican. Being more than a partisan voice. Captive to Christ and not a political stance. Baptism is the grounding for that deep reality.

“Where is the baptismal font?” I said to myself after taking a few minutes to look around. My wife and I were spending part of my sabbatical in Bergen, Norway, and while there, I was taking in every church I could, especially to check out the font. And in the case of Nykirke (New Church), the font was nowhere to be seen. Invisible. Or so I thought.

Invisibility, of course, is that last thinhg to expect of a baptismal font. In Lutheranism, baptism is a sacrament, the Word made visible. Along with the Word of God foundational to the sacrament, the water is what we see – and that container holding the water, the font itself. Be that container a bowl, a  basin, a tub or even a pool, we expect to see it. But in Nykirke, no.

My hunt for that font made me think: what’s the message here? What did it mean that I couldn’t find the font? Was this not a Lutheran church after all? Wasn’t baptism practiced in this place? Was it perhaps a church of Word that looked down on “rites” as perfunctory, unhelpful, or even un-Christian – and baptismal font got tossed out with the baptismal water?

After that experience, I found myself asking wherever I went to church: What does the font here tell us? What does it mean when the font is front and center for me to walk right by when I enter the sanctuary for worship – and even more, it’s filled with water? What does it mean when the font is tucked away in a corner, a little non-descript stand with a glass bowl atop?

If baptism is the visible Word – Word – not only the water has a message for us, but also the whole font itself is telling us something about what happens here: that it’s important or not, central to the community of faith or not, and more. The visibility of the font, its size, design, location, and on-going use in the congregation come together with a message that helps or hinders the Gospel message of Jesus Christ. Yes, I know that fonts of many descriptions have served the church, and often have served well, but in a time when the Christian story needs ever more clarity, we need fonts that do a better job. I’ll come back to this point again.

Where was that font in Nykirke? My wife found a person to ask, and she offered, “Let me show you.” She disappeared for a moment, pressed a button – also invisible! – and before our eyes, the font descended from the ceiling as a flying angel with wing/arm outstretched and holding a wreath. Into that wreath a bowl with water would be placed and there was our now visible font. Check the photo here.

So what did that font say? That baptism didn’t matter? Probably not. That it was a gift from heaven? Maybe. Brought into our lives by angels? Like the angel appeared at Jesus’ baptism? I don’t know. And that day in Bergen we didn’t know enough Norwegian to get the answer. But there in that font, like the one in your church and mine, is a message that shapes our lives.

Each chapter of my book Water for Your Soul ends with a haiku verse under the heading, “Reflections on the water.” For example, here’s the verse from chapter 11:

eyes sprung wide open

staring into space for sleep

and for God

If you are thinking, what in the world is that about, that’s okay! It’s what I intended – that you begin thinking about this. Of course, I trust it’ll make more sense when you’ve read the pages before it. Even then I want you my reader to think about baptism: how what happens here touches your life today, how you can be surprised by it, how you didn’t really leave it behind long ago. Let your heart and mind be opened!

Baptism is not closed event but an opening one. Sometimes we treat baptism as “done,” even “getting our child done.” We move on as if that’s over and now we can get to the rest of our lives, all the things we ourselves decide are important without divine interference. But baptismal spirituality sees baptism differently – as a real beginning and as our opening to God and God’s new world. 

Perhaps we should think of our baptized life as a flower. We are blooms opened by God and called to be open to God’s working in us and around us. Instead of thinking we know all we need to know about the mystery of God, God calls us to see this baptismal water seeping into every corner of life and invites us to see and experience his hand at work where we had not. Baptism gives life. Baptism opens us to life with God.

Henry Van Dyke has the beautiful line in Beethoven’s “Hymn to Joy” that “hearts unfold like flow’rs before thee” [God]. Baptism is the unfolding and opening work of God who calls and invites us into becoming who we really are, children of God. What a promise, what an adventure! As we journey, John writes, “What we do know is this: when [Christ] is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is” (I John 3:2b).

Never walk away from a baptism, your own or your child’s or another’s, with a closed heart. God has much more in mind for us.

I am delighted by the uses I have learned that readers have found for my book, Water for Your Soul. When I wrote it, I hoped that its theme would find their way into people’s lives. I keep praying that it won’t be just one more book, especially not one more to just gather dust on the shelf.

Here’s what I’ve heard recently about people are using the book.

1. A card from a friend in Iowa tells how she is ending each day with a chapter for her personal devotional time. She writes that she has too many books purchased through the years that have gathered dust on her shelf, but this is not one of them.

2. Readers from Texas tell me that their pastor bought books to use with young teens at a confirmation camp. I believe the book is accessible so I hope that includes this group too.

3. A colleague in Wisconsin tells me he’s using it for family devotions every few days – and related how his middle-school-age son has a favorite story from one of the chapter readings.  

4. This autumn a small Bible study group at my church has committed to using it at their once-a-month meetings, likely about three chapters a time. I reminded them that my book’s website has a free study guide with questions usable for several lessons.

That’s a sampling of how the book’s beginning to be used. I look forward to hearing from other readers – maybe you – and hope to be able to share helpful practices more later.

Worship at my church Sunday, June 1st, was a special delight. Not only did we have the joy of a baptism, but I had the unique privilege of hearing the congregation sing my new baptismal song for the first time. Here’s the story behind the song.

Late last fall when I was home recuperating from prostate cancer surgery, I came across an ad in The Christian Century for a baptismal song contest. Orange United Methodist Church in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, was inviting writers to submit new baptismal texts and music as one part of its effort to emphasize baptism in their congregation. I had time on my hands, so, I thought, why not give it a try.

I don’t remember exactly how I began, only that I was soon working with a mix of things: thoughts from my book, various baptismal texts in Scripture, and hymns that drew my attention as I paged through our ELCA’s Evangelical Lutheran Worship. I found myself drawn to David Johnson’s spirited tune, Earth and All Stars (ELW 731), thinking it would make a great Easter baptismal hymn. Then I was thinking of death and resurrection in Ephesians 5 which has an early baptism hymn, “Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you” (verse 14).

Pondering and playing with these, I wrote and re-wrote the words that became “Water My Soul,” and one day before the end of 2007 I sent it off with prayer and proper postage to Orange UMC’s contest. The song didn’t win, but among 50-plus entries from 25 states and several countries, it was one of seven “honorable mentions” that Orange UMC included with the winner in their special contest booklet. 

 Here’s verse one (of three) with the refrain:

          Water my soul: rouse me to new life.

          Waking with Chri—st I arise.

          Light on my way, joy in each new step.

          Walking with Chri—st I begin.

          Refrain:

          This is the da—y I am born:

          First of my days in God’s new world.

If you’d like the full text, click on my congregation’s website for my e-mail address on the staff page, and request a copy. It’s free for your use in worship! Just give me the copyright credit line as requested. If the song can bless your congregation’s baptismal ministry and worship, I would be delighted.

As I was reading a few Newsweek articles on line, I followed a link to Andrew Romano’s blog with this Friday posting: “Obama to Jewish Floridians: ‘Don’t Vote Against Me Because of Who I Am’.” The point was that Barack Obama, campaigning in Florida, has a problem getting the Jewish vote. Blogger Romano provided background with the January comments by a local teacher after a Guiliani event at a local shul. She insisted “that Obama, a Christian, was ‘Muslim.’ ‘He has it in his blood,’ she said when [Romano] corrected her. ‘You can’t take away what’s given to you. It’s given to you for a reason, and that’s who you are. That’s who he is.’”

Setting politically positioning and Jewish-Muslim issues aside for the moment, Christians should argue vehemently that this teacher was wrong – and she’d be wrong from a center-of-the-faith point. When Obama was baptized into the Christian faith, he acquired a community of relationships not based on blood. “As many of you as were baptized ito Christ have clothed yourself with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:27-28).

Of course it can and will be argued whether Obama is living by this Christian truth. Our record as Christians is not always something to be proud of. On any day we should admit this new reality in Christ often has a long way to go to take root in our lives. But still it’s not so simple that someone should be able to write off Obama as a Muslim because it’s “in his blood.” Recently a wise pastor reminded me of the wonderful line from the now-deceased Lutheran pastor-leader Nelson Trout who insisted about Christian baptism that it was the “water thicker than blood.” Maybe Christians should come to Obama’s defense that he has not the proverbial ice water in his veins but baptismal water – and that fact cannot be taken lightly. In fact, Obama’s baptismal reality offers hope to the world that blood relationships are not ultimate or final.

His name was Jaroslav Vajda (pronounced VY-dah), a name not exactly destined for rolling off the tongue in easy recognition. But the poetry that rolls off thousands of tongues in congregational song is his gift to the world.

This evening I was surprised to read of Vajda’s death, probably more surprised to read the news in my small hometown paper than surprised that he died. After all, he was full 89 years of age, for last forty of which he wrote wonderful hymn texts. Years before I knew how to pronounce his name, Vajda was my favorite hymn writer. What glorious words he wrote for congregational singing! “Now the Silence” filled the room with restrained reverence at Holy Communion. “God of the Sparrow” bespoke awe, wonder and love in a simple vocabulary of creation. And then there is “Go, My Children, with My Blessing,” a beautiful benediction for so many occasions of heart and life. Actually he wrote enough hymns to sing through the whole church year.

Jaroslav Vajda lived and wrote out of the Lutheran community, and those commitments are apparent. I confess to a special appreciation for the warmth and power of baptismal references so integral to his work. In my previous congregation, I jumped at the opportunity to get the limited rights to “See This Wonder in the Making” so we could add this song text in the back of our hymnal. Using the beloved and beautiful Swedish folk tune for “Children of the Heavenly Father,” Vajda contributed simple and lively images for baptism. How I would have loved to see this hymn in our own ELCA’s new Evangelical Lutheran Worship book.

“Go, My Children, with My Blessing” is in this book, as well as five other Vajda hymn texts or translations. (Concordia Publishing House bought the rights to Vajda’s hymnody, I understand, so the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod probably has easier access.) This hymn is rich with baptismal imagery and washes the singer with life in God through words like these: “In my love’s baptismal river I have made you mine forever.” Vajda knew that Christians can proclaim the faith, and they can pray it too, but at a deep and powerful level, the truth of faith must be sung.

I love how Vajda himself says it in the Reformed Worship periodical. “Why then do I write hymns? To stir up my own awareness of God’s will and mercy, to express my own need for him and to begin to render some genuine appreciation for his love, to review my place in his plan for me and for humanity, to refresh myself with his love so as to be able to feed others with it, to experience his forgiveness so that I can forgive others, to taste his peace so that I can be its instrument for others still at war with him, with themselves, and one another, and to look forward to God’s ultimate goal for me, for which I have been redeemed at so great a cost.”

My local newspaper article about Jaroslav Vajda had the headline, “Sing him to heaven.” To which I must say Amen!