Baptism and the healing cycle

Sermon for wholeness and healing service at St Helen’s Church
6.30pm - Sunday 10th January 2010 – Baptism of Christ

Rdngs: Isaiah 55: 1-11, Romans 6: 1-11, Mark 1: 4-11, Dismissal Gospel Luke 5: 12-14


At the age of 21, in my last year as an undergraduate, I had a crisis. I didn’t realise it was a crisis at the time; I just thought I was ill. I had a problem with itchy skin. If I got embarrassed, or laughed, or put under pressure or just spent too long in a hot room then my skin would start to itch. It would itch all over. There would be nothing that you could see but for me it was completely unbearable. All I could do was go outside in the cold and take my coat off. My skin would cool down and I would be fine…until I the next time. This started as a minor irritation in about November time, but by Christmas it was a major problem. In fact I really struggled to do my Christmas shopping. I find shopping pretty stressful at the best of times, and perhaps because of that I found I was especially likely to start itching in the shops, which were also very warm. I found that I could not stay in the shops long enough to get to the front of the queue to pay for the things I wanted to buy. It was very frustrating and difficult.
Anyway, I went to the doctors. The first doctor I went to realised that something psychosomatic was going on and suggested that I do some yoga. I was reluctant to do this; I was very suspicious of yoga. The second doctor I went to gave me an assortment of pills and creams and lotions. I discovered that with antihistamine tablets I could control the itching, such that I still knew when it was happening, but it was not painful and I could just about get by in my day to day life. However I knew that this was not the same as being healthy, and I did want to get better so I started looking around for ways to get better. I started going to yoga classes.
In about February a Catholic friend of mine, who with hindsight obviously had a gift for dealing with young men, started to take an interest my difficulties. He wanted me to go a see a Catholic counselling woman at the school he worked in. I was reluctant to go. I was a bit suspicious of Catholicism and profoundly suspicious of counselling. However, this man Tony, said one or two things and asked me one or two questions that made me realise that he understood far more about what was wrong with me that I did. I realised that I had to trust him and go and meet this counselling woman. Tony said to me, “Right now you are in crisis, and things are very rough for you, but one day you will look back at this and think it was the best thing that every happened to you!” Of course he was absolutely right, but I hesitated to believe it at the time.
Anyway, once I started seeing the counselling lady, she started asking me questions and very quickly she started to draw to my attention all kinds of contradictions and inconsistencies in my attitudes to life. Slowly I learned to trust her. I started to make new choices which reflected my own choices rather than what I had been taught to think of as “good”. I started to dress more expressively, to spend more money, to drink more beer, to be more independent of my parents and in many ways to behave more like a normal student. Really it was about growing up and having the courage to make my own choices. Also, through the yoga, I became more aware of my inner feelings and needs and became more able to address them. It was a very difficult process, and some of my experiments turned out to be very unhelpful, but slowly I did begin to improve. After my final exams in June I was able to rest more and this really helped. By September I had stopped itching. A year later I was well enough to get a job. A year after that I met Elaine, and a year after that we got married. I carried on seeing, Sr Clare, the counselling woman on and off for many years. I was in my late thirties before I really felt I had full recovered.
As I look back on that experience now I think of it in a way very different from how I thought about it at the time. At the time I just thought I was ill, which was true. Then later I started to think of it as a psychological crisis to do with growing up, which was also true. However more recently as I look back I start to notice the spiritual aspects of the experience. A huge part of it was about being ready to let go of attitudes and beliefs that had stood me in good stead as I grew up. For example, I had to let go of my prejudices about yoga and Catholics and counselling. I had to let go of my rather cerebral Christian faith beliefs and more ridged religious practices. I had to let go of any sense that I was a “good” Christian, or better than other people, or that I could do things in my own strength or that I could be independent, or that I could serve others without being served myself. This letting go was an experience of loss. In some ways it was like dying lots of small deaths. Then there was another part of the experience which was all to do with acceptance. I had to accept my human limitations. I had to accept my inner needs. I had to accept the inner pain that I carried and I was carrying a lot. I had to accept my need for love and my dependence on other people. I had to accept that I was a sinner in need of God’s mercy. And this process of acceptance was profoundly linked to healing, and it took a long time.
And then there was the surprise of new life and new hope which I had not been expecting. I discovered that I had a Christian faith that was deeper and more profound and more real than my earlier more cerebral faith had been. I discovered that through my prayers and my sufferings I could grow in faith and contribute to the life of the Church, even if I was not well enough to do very much. I discovered that God really did love me, and that I was much more loveable than I could ever have imagined. I discovered that I was much closer to other people, in their joys and sorrows, in their hopes and fears than I would ever have considered possible. I found healing and renewal and the ability to build a new life.
But the interesting thing is that this experience of losing and dying, leading to acceptance and healing, leading to new life and new possibilities is very like the experience of Baptism that our reading today have meditated upon.
Our OT reading was written for the Jews in the sixth century BC, at a real low point in their history. They had been conquered by the Babylonians and taken away into exile. Many of them had been killed in battle. They had lost the Promised Land, they had lost Jerusalem. The temple had been destroyed. They had lost their livelihoods and their freedom. Everything spoke of death and loss. Yet into this bitter, bitter suffering the second Isaiah proclaims a message of hope and new life. “You that have no money, come buy and eat, buy wine and milk without money and without price,” “Return to the Lord, that he may have mercy…to our God for he will abundantly pardon”.
Then we heard St Paul teaching that we must die to sin. We were baptised with Christ, baptised into his death. Our old self was crucified with Christ so that the body of sin might be destroyed and we might longer be enslaved to sin. But, having been united to Christ in his death, so we will be united with him in a resurrection like his. We are called to walk in newness of life. We are dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus.
And then we heard Marks account of the baptism of Christ. There is a losing; the Son of God submits to a moral man for baptism. There is a going down into the water, there is a moment under the water, a moment of being overwhelmed, a moment like death. Then there is a coming up out of the water, new life, an anointing with the Spirit and affirmation from the voice of the Father himself. This is indeed new life, with new possibilities.
So I hope that as we think about sickness and illness and wholeness and healing, so we will experience something of this Baptism cycle, this death of the old and the rising up of something new. I hope we shall have the courage to let go, to lose, to go through the process like death. I hope that we shall have the grace of acceptance, accepting the truth, accepting the pain, accepting reality of the situation. Then, from God, not from us, I hope we will find new things start to emerge; new life, new possibilities, new hope, new way of serving others.
And I hope that if we can practice this through the crisis of illness, so it will stand us in good stead when we come to the great crisis of death. May we accept the loss our mortal bodies and our earthly life, but may we come to rejoice in the resurrection life of Christ, the eternal life, the life free from sin and death. Amen.