Baptism Of Fire
Sermon
Many years ago, when Ian and I were first married, we lived in a house without central heating. I remember struggling one day to light the fire in the lounge, but however I laid the sticks and the screwed-up newspaper and the coal, I couldn't get the fire to catch. So I did something I'd seen my mother do many times, during my childhood. I held a double spread of broadsheet newspaper across the chimneybreast, over the front of the open grate, to catch the draught and 'draw' the fire. The fire caught, all right. But unfortunately, it caught the paper I was holding, which instantly roared into flame. I quickly dropped the paper into the grate and no harm was done, but it was a nasty moment. I was more careful with fire after that.
Of the four elements, air, earth, fire and water, fire is perhaps both the most fascinating and in many ways, the most terrifying. We're unable to live without fire. We need it both for warmth and for cooking our food and for manufacture, and to a large extent we've controlled it. Gas fires and gas cookers are controllable to a minute degree. And even candles, by their very construction, limit the size of the flame they produce.
But fire still has the ability to flare up unexpectedly and cause utter havoc. And a fire which is out of control is terrifying. The bush fires in Australia a year or so ago caused devastation. And people die needlessly every year through tragic fires in their own homes caused by electrical faults or simply through carelessness. Fire seems to be one of those elements which is essential and is wonderful in moderation, but is also potentially dangerous. Fire must always be handled with care. Otherwise, people get burnt.
So it's interesting that both the worst that can happen to human beings - hell - and the best that can happen to human beings - the Holy Spirit - have historically been described in terms of fire. All those medieval pictures of Hell show raging fires, apparently totally out of control. Yet those raging fires never actually burn people to a frazzle. Nobody in hell seems to be permitted the relief of unconsciousness. It seems they must go on and on, continuously suffering the agonies of death by fire, but without actually enjoying the blessed release of dying. Yet in the Bible, fires which don't burn seem to be an indication not of the absence of God, but of his presence.
When Moses stood before the burning bush, the remarkable aspect of the bush was that although it was alight, nothing was being burned. And when the Apostles received the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost, there's no indication that the flames which appeared over their heads either scorched their scalps or even singed a single hair.
In today's gospel passage written in Luke's unmistakably elaborate and story-telling style, John the Baptist says: "I baptise you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and with fire." And John goes on to spell out just what this means: "His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor, and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
So John seems to distinguish between the Holy Spirit and fire. Almost as though he doesn't necessarily regard fire as a sign of the Holy Spirit. Or perhaps he sees fire as an aspect of the Holy Spirit which is used for eternal punishment, just as the medieval artists interpreted it. And perhaps it's inevitable that fiery John the Baptist, with all his threats and exhortations and cries for repentance, would see the Holy Spirit mainly in terms of punishment - God, wiping out the sinners. We're told in passing in John 3:22 that Jesus did indeed baptise people himself (although John 4:2 promptly denies that claim), but it seems to have been no more than a simple initiation ceremony Jesus was making and baptising more disciples than John 4:1) with nothing miraculous or fiery about it.
Jesus doesn't claim to bestow the Holy Spirit on his disciples at baptism, but consistently tells his disciples they'll receive the Holy Spirit after his, Jesus', death. Which according to Luke's second book, the Acts of the Apostles, is exactly what happened on the Day of Pentecost. It's after that first Whitsun, after the disciples had received the Holy Spirit while tongues of flame hovered over their heads, that baptism seems to take on more meaning.
Throughout the Acts of the Apostles, baptism is accompanied by some spectacular manifestations of the Holy Spirit. Indeed, in today's reading from Acts 8, we're told Peter and John had to make a special trip to Samaria, because the people there had only been baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus. It was later, as Peter and John placed their hands on the heads of the baptised people, that those people received the Holy Spirit. And something amazing must have happened through that act of the placing of their hands, for Simon the Magician was so taken with what he saw, that he was eager to buy from Peter and John, the power to impart the Holy Spirit.
There's a sense of urgency and excitement in the accounts of the receiving of the Holy Spirit, throughout Acts. In those very early days of the church, in the immediate aftermath of Jesus' death, there seems to have been a great outpouring of the Holy Spirit. An outpouring in which the Spirit is seen as uncontrollable, uncontainable and potentially very dangerous. Just like fire. We're given a glimpse in Acts of the wild, untamable potential of God himself, for which the symbol of fire does seem entirely appropriate. We're given a glimpse in Acts, of the God of the OT, who was so dangerous that people had to be shielded from his presence, lest a slight accidental contamination by God might destroy them (cf. Exodus 19:21f).
Occasionally in the OT we see the wild destruction of God break out, apparently uncontrollably, such as in the days of King David, when Uzzah put out a hand to steady the ark of the covenant and prevent it from falling off its cart, and was instantly struck dead for his pains (2 Samuel 6:6f). There's a similar, randomly destructive feel to the story in Acts about Ananias and Sapphira. They were a couple who tried to cheat just a little bit, and like Uzzah, were instantly struck down dead. Certainly Ananias and Sapphira did wrong, but surely their crime wasn't so serious as to warrant death? When I look at some of the awful crimes committed today, I find myself wondering what's happened to God's fire? If people in times past have been zapped by God for such trifling offences, why do we suffer murder and rape, child abuse and the denial of human rights?
One feature of God's 'breaking out' through the ages is that it's been so infrequent. There were lots of threats, notably by the prophets, but not all that much action. Certainly there were numerous wars, some of them with dire consequences for the Ancient Israelites. But those occasions when God himself acted directly rather than acting indirectly through some other agent, are remarkable simply because they're so rare. God has been much more active in helping and supporting his people, than in zapping them. That wonderful passage from Isaiah which was read to us today sums it up: This is what the LORD says - he who created you, ... he who formed you, "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD, your God, you are precious and honoured in my sight, and .. I love you. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth - everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made."
Jesus, the human expression of God, has brought this concern and love of God to its ultimate fruition. At his own baptism, Jesus was anointed with the Holy Spirit, but the image of the Holy Spirit wasn't fire, but a gentle dove. During Jesus' life, the Holy Spirit was mainly manifest not so much through fire, but more through a loving concern for all people. So in Jesus the fire was controlled and put to use. The 'light of the world' is more of a gentle candle flame, which has the potential to burst into fire and burn, but which is mostly restrained and warm and loving.
And perhaps that's what we should expect not only of God, but of ourselves. Perhaps we are responsible for allowing the spark of the God within to be fanned into flame, but then allowing God to take control and channel that flame where he will. For he has promised: When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD, your God, you are precious and honoured in my sight, and .. I love you.
Of the four elements, air, earth, fire and water, fire is perhaps both the most fascinating and in many ways, the most terrifying. We're unable to live without fire. We need it both for warmth and for cooking our food and for manufacture, and to a large extent we've controlled it. Gas fires and gas cookers are controllable to a minute degree. And even candles, by their very construction, limit the size of the flame they produce.
But fire still has the ability to flare up unexpectedly and cause utter havoc. And a fire which is out of control is terrifying. The bush fires in Australia a year or so ago caused devastation. And people die needlessly every year through tragic fires in their own homes caused by electrical faults or simply through carelessness. Fire seems to be one of those elements which is essential and is wonderful in moderation, but is also potentially dangerous. Fire must always be handled with care. Otherwise, people get burnt.
So it's interesting that both the worst that can happen to human beings - hell - and the best that can happen to human beings - the Holy Spirit - have historically been described in terms of fire. All those medieval pictures of Hell show raging fires, apparently totally out of control. Yet those raging fires never actually burn people to a frazzle. Nobody in hell seems to be permitted the relief of unconsciousness. It seems they must go on and on, continuously suffering the agonies of death by fire, but without actually enjoying the blessed release of dying. Yet in the Bible, fires which don't burn seem to be an indication not of the absence of God, but of his presence.
When Moses stood before the burning bush, the remarkable aspect of the bush was that although it was alight, nothing was being burned. And when the Apostles received the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost, there's no indication that the flames which appeared over their heads either scorched their scalps or even singed a single hair.
In today's gospel passage written in Luke's unmistakably elaborate and story-telling style, John the Baptist says: "I baptise you with water, but he who is mightier than I is coming he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and with fire." And John goes on to spell out just what this means: "His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor, and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
So John seems to distinguish between the Holy Spirit and fire. Almost as though he doesn't necessarily regard fire as a sign of the Holy Spirit. Or perhaps he sees fire as an aspect of the Holy Spirit which is used for eternal punishment, just as the medieval artists interpreted it. And perhaps it's inevitable that fiery John the Baptist, with all his threats and exhortations and cries for repentance, would see the Holy Spirit mainly in terms of punishment - God, wiping out the sinners. We're told in passing in John 3:22 that Jesus did indeed baptise people himself (although John 4:2 promptly denies that claim), but it seems to have been no more than a simple initiation ceremony Jesus was making and baptising more disciples than John 4:1) with nothing miraculous or fiery about it.
Jesus doesn't claim to bestow the Holy Spirit on his disciples at baptism, but consistently tells his disciples they'll receive the Holy Spirit after his, Jesus', death. Which according to Luke's second book, the Acts of the Apostles, is exactly what happened on the Day of Pentecost. It's after that first Whitsun, after the disciples had received the Holy Spirit while tongues of flame hovered over their heads, that baptism seems to take on more meaning.
Throughout the Acts of the Apostles, baptism is accompanied by some spectacular manifestations of the Holy Spirit. Indeed, in today's reading from Acts 8, we're told Peter and John had to make a special trip to Samaria, because the people there had only been baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus. It was later, as Peter and John placed their hands on the heads of the baptised people, that those people received the Holy Spirit. And something amazing must have happened through that act of the placing of their hands, for Simon the Magician was so taken with what he saw, that he was eager to buy from Peter and John, the power to impart the Holy Spirit.
There's a sense of urgency and excitement in the accounts of the receiving of the Holy Spirit, throughout Acts. In those very early days of the church, in the immediate aftermath of Jesus' death, there seems to have been a great outpouring of the Holy Spirit. An outpouring in which the Spirit is seen as uncontrollable, uncontainable and potentially very dangerous. Just like fire. We're given a glimpse in Acts of the wild, untamable potential of God himself, for which the symbol of fire does seem entirely appropriate. We're given a glimpse in Acts, of the God of the OT, who was so dangerous that people had to be shielded from his presence, lest a slight accidental contamination by God might destroy them (cf. Exodus 19:21f).
Occasionally in the OT we see the wild destruction of God break out, apparently uncontrollably, such as in the days of King David, when Uzzah put out a hand to steady the ark of the covenant and prevent it from falling off its cart, and was instantly struck dead for his pains (2 Samuel 6:6f). There's a similar, randomly destructive feel to the story in Acts about Ananias and Sapphira. They were a couple who tried to cheat just a little bit, and like Uzzah, were instantly struck down dead. Certainly Ananias and Sapphira did wrong, but surely their crime wasn't so serious as to warrant death? When I look at some of the awful crimes committed today, I find myself wondering what's happened to God's fire? If people in times past have been zapped by God for such trifling offences, why do we suffer murder and rape, child abuse and the denial of human rights?
One feature of God's 'breaking out' through the ages is that it's been so infrequent. There were lots of threats, notably by the prophets, but not all that much action. Certainly there were numerous wars, some of them with dire consequences for the Ancient Israelites. But those occasions when God himself acted directly rather than acting indirectly through some other agent, are remarkable simply because they're so rare. God has been much more active in helping and supporting his people, than in zapping them. That wonderful passage from Isaiah which was read to us today sums it up: This is what the LORD says - he who created you, ... he who formed you, "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD, your God, you are precious and honoured in my sight, and .. I love you. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth - everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made."
Jesus, the human expression of God, has brought this concern and love of God to its ultimate fruition. At his own baptism, Jesus was anointed with the Holy Spirit, but the image of the Holy Spirit wasn't fire, but a gentle dove. During Jesus' life, the Holy Spirit was mainly manifest not so much through fire, but more through a loving concern for all people. So in Jesus the fire was controlled and put to use. The 'light of the world' is more of a gentle candle flame, which has the potential to burst into fire and burn, but which is mostly restrained and warm and loving.
And perhaps that's what we should expect not only of God, but of ourselves. Perhaps we are responsible for allowing the spark of the God within to be fanned into flame, but then allowing God to take control and channel that flame where he will. For he has promised: When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD, your God, you are precious and honoured in my sight, and .. I love you.
