"Yes") with human agency (human responding "yes"), God's objective work on the cross and our subjective response. Christ's presence in the Eucharist, the church has said, is always valid and efficacious, no matter how poorly performed by the priest, though not always beneficial to the recipient because of the demeanor of the recipient. It is this objective quality of God's work that has been smothered in our contemporary subjectivity. North American evangelical Christianity has unfortunately tended to speak of salvation in a way that makes it sound as if it were a psychological experience that we have rather than a work that God does. Barth said that our reconciliation to God is a present actuality, a fact that has been established by the work of God, not something that we think we have experienced.
Salvation comes to the empty-handed. "Just as I am without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me," as we sing. The church is not here to produce a product—to make disciples, produce converts, or win people to Christ (note the capitalist metaphors). God in Christ is already doing that. We are simply (did I say simply?) to point to this particular God, to testify to what has happened in the invasion of our humanity by this God, and to show the world what life looks like when a life submits to the realty of Christ. We have been shown something that much of the world is waiting to see, even when the world doesn't yet know for whom it awaits.
Once upon a time I went out to a small rural church to baptize a twelve-year-old boy whom a pastor had been instructing in the faith. I was happy to oblige until the pastor said, "Jeremy very much wants to be immersed. Can you do that?"
"Er, uh, sure. I can do that," I said, unwilling to admit that I had rarely baptized anyone by immersion.
I arrived at the church that Sunday morning, and sure enough, there was the pastor standing on the front steps of the little church with a small boy.
"Jeremy, this is the bishop," the pastor said proudly. "It's an honor for you to be baptized by the bishop."
Young Jeremy looked me over and said only, "They tell me you don't do many of these. I'd feel better if we had a run-through beforehand."
"That was just what I was going to suggest," I said.
We went into the church's fellowship hall where the pastor showed me their newly purchased font, dressed up by a carpenter in the congregation, surrounded by pots of flowers. Jeremy said, "After you say the words, then you take my hand and lead me up these steps, and do you want me to take off my socks?"
"Er, uh, you can leave them on if you want," I said.
Well, we had a wonderful service that Sunday. I preached on baptism, the choir sang a baptismal anthem then the whole congregation recessed into the fellowship hall and gathered around the font. I went through the baptismal ritual. Then I asked Jeremy if he had anything to say to the congregation before his baptism.
"Yes, I do. I just want to say to all of you that I'm here today because of you. When my parents got divorced, I thought my world was over. But you stood by me. You told me the stories about Jesus. And I just want to say to you today thanks for what you did for me. I intend to make you proud as I'm going to try to live my life the way Jesus wants."
Though I'm now weeping profusely (Jeremy asked, as I led him up the steps into the pool, "Are you going to be OK?"), I baptized Jeremy and the church sang a great "Hallelujah!"
Baptism is God's word in water that saves. Not that the church necessarily says that we are saved by this ritual, but rather baptism gathers up all the meanings of Christian salvation and demonstrates those in word and water. The dying-rising dynamic that is signified in baptism is at the heart of salvation in Christ. The church promises that this has happened to you, is happening, will happen to you in your salvation. From this rich ritual we note a number of meanings about Christian salvation.
1. You can't save yourself. Baptism is a gift that is offered to you, not something done by you. So is your salvation.
2. Baptism is a sign that God works through the church to do for you what you cannot do for yourself, mainly to save you. This corporate, ecclesial gift they call salvation.
3. Baptism is a sign of a process that takes only a few minutes to do but the rest of your whole life to finish. That process is called salvation.
4. Baptism is a great comfort in life and in death because it reminds us that our relationship with God is something that is not utterly dependent upon us. When we call baptism a "sacrament" we are signifying that baptism is an act of God, a sign of God's self-giving, a public testimonial and confirmation of salvation.
5. In baptism there is an interplay between a gift offered and a gift received. There must be commitment, confession, response, and transformation, but that doesn't all have to be done the day you are baptized. For some, baptism is the culmination of a long journey; for others, baptism is the beginning of a journey that will continue over a lifetime. As Luther said, every day we must bound out of bed and pray to God to continue the work begun in us in our baptism—namely dying and rising with Christ. Dying and rising with Christ is the dynamic at the heart of what we call "salvation."
So we would be justified, when asked "What is the meaning of salvation?" to reply simply, "Baptism."
LEARNING TO ENDURE THE LOVE OF JESUS
Pastoral care in the church is the sustained attempt to be with the people to whom this God has erotically turned, those who are being snared in the great dragnet of God's grace. Alas, much that passes for pastoral care is mere adjustment to the cultural status quo, adaptation through therapy or chemistry to governmentally sanctioned definitions of reality. True pastoral care in the name of Christ consists of encouragement to rebel against the illusory world that is produced by the modern state and its salvations and join God's revolution. I expect this is what Barth meant when he said that the mercy of God was much more demanding and difficult for humanity than the judgment of God. To be actively loved by God, really to know that God has decisively moved in with us and taken up our cause is desperately to need pastoral care to assist us in enduring such severe mercy. Most of the people in my church are fairly content and happy—until Jesus shows up. The trouble starts when they discover that salvation is inextricably linked to vocation. They experience awareness of their salvation not only as future blessing but also as present assignment.
We say in the Apostles' Creed that Christ "sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty." It is a statement about rule, authority. But it's also a statement about the nature of God and what God is up to, not only in heaven but on earth. Seated there, at the right hand of the Father, it's hard for me to believe that Christ sits there in serene complacency. The Son who sits next to the Father is none other than the one who sought the sheep, intruded among the sinners, reached toward the unloved, the one who stooped to the wounded in the ditch. Now this one sits at the right hand of the Father, now in the power of the Holy Spirit works with the Father as embodiment of the Father's full eros.5 This is great comfort.
Paul cries out in anguish, "Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?" (Rom 7:24). This cry (uttered well after "conversion" on the Damascus road, I remind you) is quickly followed by the celebratory, "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" I also note that Paul says, "I know in whom I have believed." Paul does not say, "I know what I believe," as if he believed in a system of ideas. Nor does he say, "I know that I believe," as if his belief were a free floating belief in belief. Paul's belief is personal trust in an engaging person—Jesus Christ.
To be loved by this person can be a challenge. The most controverted, tensive, and challenging thing about salvation in Jesus Christ is that it is salvation in Jesus Christ.
