Baptism

There are sixteen families living in this City Council concrete block: four apartments across and four levels up. Graffiti, children underfoot, dogs, minibus taxis with loud hip-hop music, and young men sitting on the pavement.


She lives on the ground floor, corner apartment. Warily eyeing the dog of nondescript origin, I carefully open the property’s gate and walk down the short cement block pathway. She is sitting in a worn chair at the door, managing three toddlers who busily clamber around her furniture. They are her grandchildren. She cares for them, assisted by state welfare grants. Her youngest daughter finished school two years ago and has yet to find a job. She is not a mother, and helps to care for the three toddlers. Her sisters live elsewhere and struggle with their addictions.

I am here to talk about the youngest addition to the family. His mother is addicted to “tik” (Methamphetamine, also known as “speed” or “crystal meth”) and her only interest in life is satisfying her craving. She used to live with her mother, but exasperated with the constant theft of her possessions, granny kicked her daughter out, but kept the grandchild. And now wants to “do the right thing” for her grandchild: she wants him baptised.

And I will do this – because baptism is not a reward for good behaviour, or a way of getting people into heaven, or a way of showing that someone has been especially righteous. Baptism is a sign of the Grace of God: a grace that says to a struggling grandmother that she is not alone. God is with her as she raises this child.

This coming Sunday the welcome of God’s community will freely embrace her and her grandchild. We will sing songs, and pray for her, and assure her of the love of God. Perhaps you can pause on Sunday and pray for her too.

I (too) Have a Dream

Well here is the good news for today:
Mat 5:3 " Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.



Jesus spoke this in a context where religious people believed that healthy, wealthy, emotionally stable people were the result of God’s blessing. And poor, sick, struggling people were suffering the curse of God.

But Jesus turned this upside down. He insisted that those who are spiritually poor, and those who mourn, and those who broken can know the blessing of God in their lives – irrespective of their social location (Read Matthew 5: 1-12). Matthew’s Gospel tells us that Jesus called a community together and asked them to re-imagine their religion, and see a community where people are made whole:
 Where those who mourn are comforted.
 Where those who are humiliated discover the promises of God
 Where those who are persecuted find a place in God’s family
 And where those who suffer from the slander and gossip will be loved by the people of God.

Sadly many religious people still confuse wealth, and health, and happiness with the blessing of God. As a consequence there are people who hide their brokenness in the company of Christians. So they fix a smile on their face and leave their problems at the door and fake it with the familiar exchange of greetings: “How are you? I am fine!” Or the even more bizarre reply: “I am blessed.” Eugene Petersen’s paraphrase The Message puts it this way:
Mat 5:3 You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope.

So I dream of a world without this kind of religion.

I dream of a Christian community where there is no judgement, no gossip, and no humiliation. I dream of a Church where there is no exclusion based on doctrine, ethnicity, gender, or sexual preference. I long for a spirituality that has no desire for numerical superiority, no pursuit of wealth, and no grand legacy to be established.

Not only do I invite broken people to come to God - but I dream that we should become a community of healing: a place where broken people can be made whole.