Rev. Randy Blankschaen
Romans 6:1-11
On April 29th, it rained in Pensacola, FL. It rained over 20 inches in 9 hours time. My wife and I were at church. My brother, Dan, was the only one in my home. He called and was worried. The water was up to our front bushes. If you could, please get the laptop on top of a counter, please. A call came a bit later – the water was knee high in the house. Well, that ain’t good at all. A call came a bit later – Your fridge is floating. The water’s chest high in the house. It’s rushing in. I think I’m going to die, Randy. I gotta go. I think I’m going to die. 911 wasn’t sending anyone. Roads were collapsing. I asked them to take my address so when they check the neighborhood they could at least know to look for his body there. Death was coming to my home.
Lydia and I went into the church to pray. “Why God?” popped in my mind, quickly followed by a “Where’s your God now, Randy?” We prayed Psalm 46. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God. “Be still, and know that I am God. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.
I didn’t pray smiling. With death so close, I wept. I prayed, kneeling next to my wife, that if it was the Lord’s will that my brother died that night, for the Holy Spirit to protect him from the evil one. I prayed that there’d be a reunion with my brother come morning. I prayed that if it was to be, that the Lord would give him a blessed end, so that we would reunite on the Last Day. The Lord may allow him to die, but the Lord wouldn’t forget my baptized brother, one who was carved into his hand on Calvary. While I hated the water rushing through my neighborhood and home with power to kill and destroy, I cherished and delighted in another river.
Dear Christians, my brother already died. He had died on January 1st, 1978 at roughly 8am. He was drowned, dead. A river that made glad the city of God had already flooded over him. This river was poured on his head as a little baby. And with that water, my brother, Daniel, was crucified with Christ. He died by crucifixion. Christ became my brother, Dan the sinner. He became Randy, Lydia, and even Adolf, and even you.
Baptism’s river makes us glad. We won’t smile amidst pain, suffering, or death; but baptism’s river does make us confident, glad, still and at peace in the promises of God. A wall of water may take us away. A fire may burn us. A bullet or car may hit us. But, even though we die, we baptized believers don’t die. Death doesn’t win. Jesus beat death. He rose. If we’re talking life, we’re not so much talking about a forever ticking heart and brain activity, like some vampire. This is eternal life: that we know the Father and His Son, Jesus the Christ. If we’re talking new identity, it’s not about what our friends say, if we fit in, or what the ACT or career survey says. It’s about what God says about you at the font. You are who you are in Christ. Baptism joins you to Jesus and Jesus to you. You’re a forgiven and loved child of God, righteous and pure, all wrapped up in Christ Jesus. It’s his promise. That river makes us glad.
Finally, I’m glad to have known that time of suffering for the joy of the phone call reporting that my brother was alive; that our cats were alive too. To see God love and support us through His church. That joy was joy in life restored. Death hadn’t won. That’s the joy that we baptized have. Our sins washed away by that baptismal river. Having died to sin, we live God in Jesus.
		
Cruciflood. No, I didn’t say it wrong. I said cruciFLOOD. That’s what your baptism is. It’s a cruciflood! Jesus was crucified for you. And when He died and His side was pierced a crucified flood of water and blood flowed out. Water! Into the font. Baptism. Blood! Into the cup. The Sacrament of the Altar. Water and blood. Flooding from the pierced side of crucified Jesus means a cruciflood for you. This cruciflood saves you. It washes you. It drowns your wicked Old Adam and it lifts you up in the ark of the church. Jesus crucified for you. A cruciflood poured out for you.
		
In the name of Jesus. Amen. Tetelestai. Greek verb. Perfect passive. Completed action. It has been accomplished. It is finished. The account has been paid.
		
Have you ever witnessed someone’s behavior and just wanted to tell them, especially if they are a Christian, “Stop it! Stop doing that! Do the right thing! Do the Christian thing! Act like a Christian! Behave!” All of us have particular sins which we like to judge in others. All of us have particular sins others enjoy judging in us. But aren’t we saved? Aren’t we supposed to be holy? Are we sanctified? Where is our sanctification?
		
Recently you might have seen this image on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. It’s the letter “N” in Arabic. Right now there is a lot of conflict in Iraq. There’s a group called ISIS, which is short for the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria and they’re a jihadist group.  A jihadist group is following a specific teaching within the religion of Islam that leverage some particularly violent tactics to dealing with infidels, folks like you and me. What’s going on in Iraq right now is both sad and bloody. This past week ISIS told Christians to get out of the town of Mosul in Iraq or convert to Islam.  If they didn’t, they would die.  The “N” you’ve been seeing all over social media is for the word “Nasrani” (Nazarene) which refers to Christians. ISIS is using this to mark the doors of Christian homes. You can guess as to why.
		
You’ve already died. You did! Death’s already happened to you. There was no angel of death, no Grim Reaper, no Oscar-winning last breath. No, you died in the Baptismal Font. You were drowned in the water and in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
		
When I was 18, I had planned out my life completely. First, I’d enroll at the local college. Then when my girlfriend finished high school we’d move to the Twin Cities. We’d get married, finish college, land good jobs, and have a baby. We decided his name would be “Christian.” And if I could just find the right lead singer I’d gig with my band on weekends. The next year, a phone call woke me up from my daydreams.
		
		
Consider these two scenarios. First, a pastor walking down the street comes across a five-year-old homeless boy who looks hungry and threadbare. The pastor tells him, “You’re a sinner, but your sins are forgiven! You have been given the gift of eternal life through Christ’s death on the cross.” The pastor then goes on his way.
		
The internet has flooded us with easy access to pornography. Just a few clicks of a button lead to innumerable free and legal sites of sexual graphics in which the heart and mind can indulge. And it’s easy to hide. Outward signs marking the alcoholic or drug abuser are absent in the porn addict, making the sin harder to detect. Pornography, then, is an addictive sin met with little resistance.