it’s dangerous.

I’ve spent the past week explaining to Elijah (my 3-year-old) what baptism is.

This morning we are dunking (around here we call it: “doing the oreo”) 18 people who have confessed with their mouths that Jesus is Lord.

So, naturally, having seen the moveable baptistry tank we have here at ourchurch, Eli’s curiosity was tickled and he had several questions. He wondered if I was going to go under water, or if I was going to stand; he wanted to know if I was going to wear a swimsuit or my clothes. He also wanted a rationale answer as to why people get baptized. I purported:

Me: “People get baptized because they love Jesus. Do you love Jesus, Eli?”

Eli: “I do love Jesus.”

Me: “Well, do you want to get baptized?”

Eli: “No, daddy.”

Me: “Why not?”

Eli: “Because it’s dangerous.”

What a striking remark. Without even knowing it, he nailed the entire thing on the head. Baptism is a signpost for the world to see what discipleship truly is: that is, taking up your cross—dying to yourself—and choosing Jesus as the True Lord and Savior of the world. It’s dangerous following the crucified Messiah. Your life will NEVER be the same. Suffering will become your new reality as you are sent on Mission to heal and restore a broken world. Your old self is crucified with Christ, and as you come out of the waters, your new creation-life has begun. It’s dangerous.

we must kill it, and do so quickly.

I preached through an interesting passage this past week and it was the part where Jesus asks, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” Here Jesus says that the blood that runs through our veins (Jewish blood at the time!) is not what defines the true people of God anymore; no, the blood of Jesus is what unites the people of God. In other words, the called-out gathered and scattered ones (read: Church) are on the same team.

It just so happens that at the Pumpkin Festival Parade only minutes after preaching this sermon, I had two separate conversations with two very different people from two very different churches that entailed the same remark from both.

“Oh, you’re our competition,” they said to me, having been informed of where I pastor.

Competition.

I thought to myself, That’s a funny word to use to describe our church and what we are doing while simultaneously juxtaposing the apparent warring ideologies that simply do not exist.

But alas, this is what humans do. We divide and fail to look at the greater, much larger canvas that God is painting for this world. Instead of one resounding symphony echoing through our region as one united people of God, we compete like a bunch of Natural Selection Darwinists (pun intended).

Competition is no longer an option for the Church. We must kill it, and do so quickly. There’s a world waiting to hear the joyful tidings of King Jesus and his salvation.