Confucianism—one of the most influential philosophies in the world, a system of virtue that originated in China during the sixth century B.C. And among Confucianism's Five Classic Texts, the oldest is the one entitled I Ching, or, in English, Book of Changes.
This is the volume Confucians consult when they come to an important moment in life and feel the need to be guided through the crucial decisions that will have to be made.
In using the I Ching, you throw a two-sided stick or coin six times in succession, and based on which side of the stick turns up on each toss, you draw a set of horizontal lines, each slightly above and parallel to the preceding. If one side of that stick turns up, you draw a line that's solid and unbroken, and if the other side turns up, you draw a line that's broken in the middle.
In this way you create a hexagram—a figure of six parallel horizontal lines, equal in length and one above the other. Then you compare the hexagram you've created to the catalog of the 64 hexagrams that can be created, as they are listed and portrayed in the I Ching.
And when you've found in that Book of Changes the one that's identical to yours, you then study its caption and text, and from them you're given guidance about how to act during this important moment of your life.
Now, #49 among the 64 hexagrams in the I Ching is the one entitled Ko, and it's described by the phrase "Fire in the lake: the image of revolution." Fire in water—a Confucian image for a moment of truly dramatic change in life.
Well, Christianity is certainly quite different from Confucianism. It's pretty hard to confuse the one with the other. But for some reason, I'm reminded of this particular Confucian hexagram whenever I encounter the words of John the Baptist that we hear in today's First Lesson, his words that the One who is coming, namely Jesus, will baptize people not only with water but also with fire and the Spirit—that is, he'll baptize people with an inflaming, purifying, grace-laden outpouring of God's Holy Spirit.
Yes, on this day when we have celebrated the baptism of Ailinn Maria Finn, scripture presents us with an image that has long been associated with the Christian sacrament of baptism, the image of a fire ignited within us by the Holy Spirit through the water of baptism, of an ardor and a passion kindled within us for ministering to the needs of the world in the name of Christ.
For Ailinn, this day marks a decisive moment in her life, a day of dramatic change and redirection, a day when God welcomes her into the community of faith, a day of fire ignited, ironically, by water, a day when the flame of Christian joy, and love, and faith is set ablaze within her by the power of the Holy Spirit that comes to us through the water of baptism.
Fire, by water and the Spirit!
I've described for you the Confucian image of such a dramatic change: fire in the water, the Ko hexagram in the I Ching. Now let me describe for you, the Presbyterian image, as it is symbolized for us in the graphic design of the official seal of our denomination, the Presbyterian Church (USA).
In your order of service this morning is a half-sheet. On one side is the section from our denomination's Brief Statement of Faith that we affirmed together during our baptismal liturgy. On the other side, is a color reproduction of our denomination's seal, and I invite you to turn to it now. Our members will recognize it as the symbol that's printed in the upper left-hand corner of the stationery of our church.
This seal was designed for our denomination in 1985 by Malcolm Grear, of the Rhode Island School of Design, in consultation with one of his colleagues there, Martha Gregor Goethals.
Grear had previously created the symbol of the Metropolitan Opera and was also in charge of print design for the Guggenheim Museum.
Now as you view this seal with me, keep in mind today's theme of the flame of Christian joy, love, and faith that is set ablaze in our hearts by the Holy Spirit through the water of baptism—fire, by water and the Spirit.
On the seal, the symbolism of flame is unmistakable. At the bottom left and right, in red, you see two tongues of fire leaping upward.
Now, do you see the symbol of the Holy Spirit descending in power on the Church? It's there at the top, in the figure of the dove, one of the Christian Church's most ancient symbols for the Holy Spirit, a symbol rooted in the four gospels' description of Jesus's own baptism, when the Spirit descends on him, as the text says, "like a dove." And the Church has also long associated the symbol of the Spirit-Dove with the baptism of Jesus's followers, the baptism through which God begins the process of empowering each of us for the task of continuing Jesus's ministry.
So in our Presbyterian seal you can see ever so clearly the descending dove of the Holy Spirit and the ascending flames of joy, and love, and faith.
But you may be asking, "Where in our seal is the image of water—the water that mediates to us in baptism the fire of the Spirit?"
Well, it's there. Who sees it? Do you see within this seal, starting at its base and rising to its center, the outline of a baptismal font? And then do you see the wavy blue line above it, suggestive of living, moving water? Yes, there in the seal is the water of baptism by which we receive the fire of the Spirit. Fire by water.
Now there is, of course, much more symbolism in this seal than just these three elements of Spirit, fire, and water, but let's leave it at that for this morning.
And let's now turn to the symbolism of fire by water and the Spirit that's present in today's Second Lesson—the account of the encounter between the Ethiopian eunuch and the evangelist Philip.
Black Ethiopians, who come from the region south of Egypt, from the kingdom called Meroë, were described by the ancient Greek historian Herodotus (5th century B.C.) as the tallest and most handsome people on earth. And people living in the Roman Empire during the 1st century A.D. still thought of them as quite a mysterious and exotic people living at the farthermost edge of the world.
Luke, who's also the author of Acts, presents this Ethiopian as an educated person of high rank and great power. He's able to read, and to read Greek at that. He's the Treasurer of the Queen of Ethiopia. And it's because of his close, ongoing working relationship with the Queen, that he's had to undergo castration—a prophylactic against scandal that we haven't tried much lately!
Now, this Ethiopian is a convinced monotheist, perhaps even a Jew. And he's just been to Jerusalem to worship the One True God. But as a eunuch, he would have been forbidden access to the sacred precincts of the Jerusalem temple by its priests. (cf. Deuteronomy 23:1)
As we encounter him in today's lesson, it's high noon on the desert highway that leads to Egypt and then onward to his homeland. He's being driven along in his large chariot, and as he's riding, he's reading the book of the prophet Isaiah, in Greek.
Enter the Holy Spirit, who intervenes in quite a dramatic way for the purpose of sending to this Ethiopian the good news of Christ through the deacon and evangelist named Philip.
Luke's account really is quite fantastic! It portrays Philip as so filled by the Spirit that he's able to jog up alongside the Ethiopian's horse-drawn chariot, keep pace with it, and have enough breath left over to ask, as they're dashing along, if the Ethiopian is understanding the scriptures he's reading. He replies, "How can I, unless someone guides me," whereupon he invites Philip to join him in the chariot so that Philip can interpret these scriptures for him. Philip climbs in, and as they ride along he begins to proclaim to this doubly marginalized man—after all, he's both a foreigner and a eunuch—the good news about Jesus, the good news this eunuch had not heard in Jerusalem. Philip begins with Isaiah 53 (vss. 7-8), where the eunuch had already been reading, and continues on, I'm sure, for at least three more chapters, to Isaiah 56, where the prophet proclaims the good news of God's inclusive love, the good news that no condition of life, such as foreign birth or castration, can ever stand as a barrier between the individual and God. (56:3-8)
Greatly heartened, the Ethiopian spies a pool of water alongside the road, asks Philip for baptism, and so brings his chariot to a halt.
The two wade into the water, Philip baptizes the eunuch, and then the Holy Spirit snatches Philip away, leaving the eunuch to continue his journey alone. But he's now filled with rejoicing. He's now filled with the flame of joy, and love, and faith kindled within him by the Spirit through the water of baptism.
And through this eunuch, Christianity went on to be spread throughout Ethiopia, for according to a very old tradition in the early church (cf. Irenaeus, Adv. Haer. 3:12.8-10 [ca. 180 A.D.]; and Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica, 2.2 (1?).13-14 [early 4th century A.D.), when the eunuch returned to his homeland, he himself became an evangelist, proclaiming to all the good news of Christ's inclusive love.
Fire, by water and the Spirit—the flame of joy, and love, and faith.
Today, Ailinn Maria has come to a decisive moment in her life, a moment when she is embraced by God and, through the water of baptism, filled with the gift of God's flame of joy, and love, and faith. So I wish for her "fire in the lake."
May she indeed, through the guidance and instruction of her parents, her extended family, and this community of faith, grow to feel within her heart that which the Ethiopian felt within his, and that which I hope all of us who've been baptized feel within our hearts—the fire born of water and the Spirit, the flame of joy and love and faith, the ardor and the passion kindled within us for ministering to the needs of the world in the name of Christ.
Let us pray:
Spirit of the living God, make yourself known to us today.
Send again Your fire to warm our hearts and impassion our witness. Amen.