Some years ago while serving a parish in New York City I went to visit three elderly sisters living on the upper West Side of Manhattan. They attended church regularly, participated in its activities, and seemed friendly enough. I recall pushing the bell in the lobby, going up in a cramped elevator still operating with sliding copper gates, striding down the dimly lit corridor to their apartment, being greeted courteously and welcomed to their home. This friendly mood lasted for approximately 3 minutes. As we greeted one another in typical friendly banter, I informed them that Linda and I were parents of Henry, Betsy, Robert and Benjamin. Conversation ceased. The room went silent. Their faces froze. Then, in chilling voice even yet shrill in my memory, the eldest, in anger asked, "How could you bring children into a world like this?" I found myself tongue-tied. I don't recall what I answered. I suspect it reflected a commitment that to bring children into a world like this—at that time the war in Viet Nam tore the country and the world apart, the city suffered from a poisonous teachers' strike—to bring children into that kind of world, I probably stumbled, reflected a steadfast hope the future might be different; The promise of children meant a generation inevitably changing things for the better. The question numbed me, and I recall leaving that home flustered, shocked, inadequate to absorb and respond creatively to the fury I felt behind their question, "How could you bring children into a world like this?"

Well, this morning, we echo that question of some thirty or more years ago. After all, for the past month or so, we have all been living on trembling and uncertain ground. The Christian Century, itself a magazine founded in the early 20th century when optimism reigned, believing the world traveling an upward trajectory, well, The Christian Century's latest cover comes in pitch black, emblazoned with the white caption strewn across the page; "In the Face of Evil." Indeed, we find ourselves and others enemies in something called a "holy war," with its ostensible prophet and symbol threatening us with "a storm of airplanes" and alerting us to "thousands of young people who look forward to death, just as Americans look forward to living." All the while Mary Robinson, Secretary of the United Nations' Agency on Refugees, warning the world of millions under threat of starvation in the country now undergoing missile attack— even as we worship. And so our questions: Why bring children into a world like this? Why get baptized when a Christian century —and its successor—turns out to be anything but?

Well, friends, my answer to the first question remains the same today as when I mumbled through it those many years ago on West End Avenue. Little children still represent hope. They promise a different future. And yes, I believe as much or more so than ever before while absorbing that stark title page of The Christian Century: "In the face of evil—it is a great time to be baptized." And as we approach the sacrament of baptism this morning, I want to tell you why. First: In particular with infants, but no less true with adults, this sacrament demonstrates that in the matter of love, in the matter of grace, in the matter of acceptance, the God of Jesus Christ takes a decisive—fantastic! —initiative. Before an infant can say yes or no; yea or nay, before it can reasonably agree or disagree, before it comprehends acceptance, before it can respond positively or negatively, the infant is the child of a God who loves him/her without condition. Grace precedes us. Grace anticipates us. Grace takes an initiative. And in those touching words of the French Huguenot tradition, when we baptize a child we affirm:

Little child, for you Jesus Christ came into the world, he did battle with the world, he suffered, for you he went through the agony of Calvary, for you he cried, "It is fulfilled;" for you he triumphed over death . . . For you little child do not yet know about this. But thus is the statement of the Apostle confirmed, "We love because God first loved us." But more: these words, this action this morning, we take not simply in behalf of those baptized. We do it for you, too. In front of you. We celebrate the sacrament in this setting because you stand in relationship to the love of God just as do those we baptize this morning. Whether you happen to be baptized or not, let me assure you what you witness here this morning is an active proclamation that from the very beginning you too are bound in this parent-child tie by the love of God. When we baptize these people this morning you can say to yourself, "That's the way God feels about me, too. I am a child of the Divine."

Oh, I know sometimes we have a hard time believing the love of God includes us. Things are not going right. As someone remarked, "history is just one damned thing after another," and life can be like that, too. It is uncertain; it is laden with discontinuity, surprises, conflict, messes we are always having to pick up. I beg you remember when life gets out of kilter, when your faith begins to wane or dry up, I beg you remember Martin Luther's quick antidote: He would cry, "I have been baptized!" Just saying that reminded him that regardless of trying circumstances his life was yet embraced by the grace of Christ, helping to see him through the threats and obstacles of life to his faith and hope. So first: grace. God's initiative. We love because God first loves us. You will see it enacted here. In a troubled world, its promise includes you, too. Truly a great time to be baptized.

Secondly: So what about the water? How come water? Well, no creek runs through our church. We do not find ourselves next to a river. And our forbears chose not to include a baptismal pool here, just a font over there with water in it. The river, the creek the pool—they show the sacrament most dramatically. The candidate sinks down under the surface. The candidate rises up. The water represents a tomb. You die to the old. You rise to the new. You say "so long" to the world that has been messing you up, "goodbye" to those things you have contributed to the messed up world, and "hello" to a world of shalom, of service, of courage, compassion, and care. These now become priorities rather than all the stuff that has been eating you alive and tearing you apart.

Oh to be sure, the challenges, difficulties and necessary compromises remain with us until that final divine intervention; but here and now we become signs, active participants, citizens of the world we know the loving action of God prepares for us. In the face of evil, as that cover of The Christian Century blurts, in the face of evil, we live in confidence that evil does not have the last word; in a world where danger and risk, suspicion and death confront us day by day, we live from a future, as the prophet Isaiah envisions, and I paraphrase, a future where, among other signs of justice, we shall beat missiles into medicine; F-18s into fertilizer; nation shall not deploy tank against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore."

The water: we die to the old. We rise to the new. We find ourselves loyal patriots in a realm ruled by the peace of Christ. What a great time to be baptized!

Third: In this sacrament of baptism we welcome each person into a new community, a new family. We gather each into a family now where genes and chromosomes don't count; where national identity dissolves; where race becomes irrelevant; where sexual orientation, gender, physical makeup and ethnicity become transparent; where we all find ourselves joined self-consciously and gratefully by the Fatherhood, the Motherhood, the Parenthood, of our God. Here we recognize the true source of our being and the ruler of our destiny. Here we celebrate the miracle of life and our solidarity in community with the barriers down. Here all of us become the God-mothers and God-fathers, the God-sisters and brothers, the God-cousins, uncles and aunts, God-grandfathers and grandmothers of these baptizees and of one another, and we welcome into this community, this church and Christ's church universal each of those whom we baptize this morning. We are theirs. They are ours. Here, in this room, this tiny gathering, in Christ's name, here the human race becomes a little taste, a tiny anticipation, the first fruits of what God wants for all Divine children wherever we live—in Peshewar or Kabul, Amman or Cape Town, Riyhad or Boston—here in Christ's name, as envisioned in the sacrament of baptism, the human race becomes the human family.

And lastly: we join in an ecumenical sacrament. These people are not baptized Protestant or Catholic, they are not baptized Congregational or UCC. They do not accede to a doctrine, they sign no papers, rehearse no ideology. We baptize them in the name of the triune God, the God revealed through the fullness of our inclusive Christ. I heard a C-span talk by former President Clinton the other morning and he described the religious world from the perspective of Osama bin Ladin. It is like concentric circles, he said. The way bin Ladin sees it, he and what we will call Fundamentalist Moslems reside in the inner circle: Moslems like himself who believe they harbor the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Then moving out you find more mainline Moslems, all of whom are heretics. And on the fringe, the rest of us: infidels. Well, we Christians can divvy ourselves up in analogous fashion, sometimes as denominations, Anglican or Congregational, Baptist or Presbyterian, Catholic or Protestant, often as fundamentalists, heretics, outsiders. This sacrament refutes those walls. It blesses each of those whom we baptize this morning. The sacrament, using their names, no less alert to our names and our presence, this sacrament claims each of them and the claim, the blessing, rests on them, their families, on our guests, on each of us. It says "no" to religious division and borders. It says "yes" to the wide embrace of Divine grace and peace we know through the One who includes us all, even Jesus the Christ. Here, not a sectarian rite. The universal, inclusive sacrament. "In the face of evil," screams the cover on that Christian Century magazine. Indeed! In the face of evil, a great time to be baptized!

Scripture Reading
Acts 10:34-48

Then Peter began to speak to them: "I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all. That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.