St. Charles' Episcopal Church – St. Charles, IL

Sunday, January12, 2008 – The Baptism of Our Lord – Year A

Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29 Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17

Rev. Elizabeth G. Meade

I have a fondness in my heart for the Amaryllis bulbs.

You know them: they are those huge bulbs that we plant in pots in November so that they will bloom during Christmas time. The beginning of my fondness for them originates to when I was 3 years old. I had been a happy three year old – and an only child – for all of my life. But suddenly, not one but two siblings burst into the nice little life I was leading. To cope, I did what many three years olds do: I took an imaginary friend – and I named her Amaryllis.

The name I chose for this “friend” has always amused my mother, because at age 3, I certainly didn’t know what an amaryllis bulb was. But to me, Amaryllis was very real. She was simply my best friend while my mother came to terms with more two babies in the house. So, you see, Amaryllis and I go way back.

Knowing that story, you will not be surprised to hear that two days before Christmas,

when I ran into the Jewel store for some last minute grocery items, my heart wrenched when I saw a rag-tag pile of amaryllis bulbs by the drafty front door. These were the ones that hadn’t sold. They were marked down from $9.99 to $3 and the boxes they were in were crushed and torn, and many of the bulbs had even started to sprout inside their boxes, but were being suffocated by the plastic bags that imprisoned them. I had to stop. Not only did I have to stop, I had to straighten the display.

And then I saw the worst one of all. It had about a 4” shoot growing in it, but instead of growing straight, it was all curled up and misshapen. I put it in my cart. My friend laughed, “It’s all bent. It will never bloom.” “I feel sorry for it” I said, rather unconvincingly. And so I brought a bruised, mangled amaryllis home. When I disentangled it from its packaging, it was in much worse shape than I had thought. The fragile little blossom head had been split down one side, and the bulb itself was very soft, almost rotten.

“Darn,” I thought, “what a waste of 3 bucks.”

Still, I put it in a pot, gave it a drink, and set it in a window.

Well, you probably know the end of the story. That little misshapen amaryllis, with some stable soil under its feet and with frequent turning and watering grew straight and tall, and is now in full bloom on my kitchen counter with 5 flower heads! It is utterly spectacular.

No wonder I was struck by the words in Isaiah this morning,

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench.”

And the words from the gospel: “This is my child, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Into this bulb – rotten and bruised and bent – God placed a recipe for perfection.

In it – against all odds – was glory and beauty that we can only imagine. In it – God placed all potential – And with some tender care, it flourished. In the Gospel reading today, and as we celebrate the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord, we retell the story of Jesus’ baptism.

We hear the familiar words, again, that the Spirit of God descended like a dove and alighted on Jesus.

“This is my Son, the Beloved. With him I am well pleased.”

In the baby Jesus, God placed all that was necessary for Jesus to become fully who God intended him to be.

And today, as we reaffirm our baptismal vows – and at the 10:45 service baptize Joseph Robert– we need to remember that. And we ALSO need to remember that: INTO EACH ONE OF US,

God has placed equally glorious potential: a working and realistic template of who HE designed each of us to be. In each one of us, there is an amaryllis waiting to bloom – potential as yet untapped. Deeply infused into our DNA is that “still small voice” who whispers:

            “This is my child, my Beloved, in whom I am well pleased.”

Age doesn’t matter, exteriors don’t matter. All of what God wants you to do or be for Him is already inside of you. Right now. So…….What is it that God is asking you to do or be for him?

The most secret sacred wish that lies deep down at the bottom of your heart, that wonderful thing or idea that you tell nobody about because it seems so far beyond anything that you are, or have at the present time – that is the very thing that God is asking you to do or be for Him.

And, as Emmett Fox said, “The birth of that marvelous wish in your soul – the dawning of that secret dream – is the voice of God Himself telling you to arise and come up higher because he has need of you. “

What is God asking of you? What is God asking of Joey?

Listen. He whispers.

Amen.