Please tell me there is still some good in the world

Recently, at a wedding I attended, a friend of ours was sharing stories about his job. He is a teacher for children with severe behavioral disabilities. The stories he shared about what the kids were capable of doing, and the traumatic events in their lives that have led them to this place, astounded us. Someone turned to me and said, "Please tell me there is still some good in the world." I sat and stared at her, stunned. In a moment, all I was thinking was, "I should be able to do this. This is my job as a pastor. It is my job to reassure people of God's grace, in spite of everything. This is what I am called to do." In the moment pause that it took me to realize I didn't know what to say, she explained what she was asking. "I can't believe these stories. They break my heart. How can people do that to children? How can we be so evil to each other? The whole world is like this! Please tell me that there's hope."

Hope? I should be able to respond to that too. Grace, hope, good news... that's what I'm called to proclaim. I said, "There's still good in the world." And that's all I said. That's all she asked for. That was good enough for her, for that moment. The conversation moved elsewhere. But I was silenced. Shamed. I didn't have anything to say. I didn't have any proof, any examples, any ideas of where to find goodness, grace, and hope in a world so full of pain.

This conversation has troubled me ever since. It is indeed my vocation to proclaim good news in a world of pain. God has called me to preach grace and the promise of a coming kindom into a world that can't hear it and will reject my message and probably me, too. Where is this hope and goodness that God is calling me to preach?

In asking her own questions of faith, this woman did not know she was questioning mine as well. But I struggle, sometimes (maybe even often), to see God's work in the world. I am convinced beyond belief that God is working and present and working through us. I know without a doubt that when we try, we can find experiences of God's kindom already come and in the process of coming all around us. But how often do I try? And how often do I step out of the world as-it-is to experience the world as-it-will-be?

This Sunday, at St. James, we will celebrate a baptism. In the baptism service, we pray that God will remind us of God's grace. We renounce the powers of the world and the forces of evil, and we turn ourselves from this world as-it-is to look firmly into the world as-it-will-be, to step into an alternative reality, the reality of God's kindom. We celebrate God's claiming of one more child into the Christian communion, celebrate God's grace as evident in that child's life and present in that child's heart. We also promise to help that child live into that new, alternative reality. Which means we'll have to live into that same reality, the world as-it-will-be. And we do that, almost immediately. We sit down at a meal together, at God's table, where every person regardless of everything is welcomed and fed. We are no longer Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, 'black' nor white, rich nor poor, child nor adult. We are one communion, one holy family - with all the saints of every time and place. We are, in that moment, the kindom come.

That baptismal service, complete with the Eucharistic meal, is an important reminder of God's work in the world, and God's work in us. A wise pastor once reminded me: At baptism, God claims us as her own. God puts her spirit deep within us. So no matter what happens, no matter what evil enters us or enters the world, we are always claimed as God's own. We can never be fundamentally shameful or evil, because that choice has already been made for us. Whatever evil, traumatic, horrific things might happen in our lives, God was there first. Even before baptism, God knit us in our mother's womb. We can't change that. Nothing can change that. No matter what happens, baptism comes first. God claims us, and she doesn't let go.

This Sunday, we'll pray over the water and trust that God's spirit is placed deep within the baby's soul. And we'll pray: "...Praise to you for the water of baptism and for your Word that saves us in this water. Breathe your Spirit into all who are gathered here and into all creation. Illumine our days. Enliven our bones. Dry our tears. Wash away the sin within us, and drown the evil around us..."

May it be so. And may the hope and goodness of God be present and evident in our lives today, in ways we can see, feel, touch, taste, and know. And may we have the grace to accept God in our lives and in our world. To live not in the world as-it-is but in the world as-it-will-be. Amen.