Dear Caldwell,
As we move from Sunday to Sunday this week, we do so mindful of the losses our congregation has experienced this year. As you heard me say Sunday, 5 members have died so far in 2014 – some after long, full lives and others “too soon.”
Yesterday, a standing-room only crowd of 200+ gathered at a funeral home in Huntersville to celebrate and also mourn a life ended too soon, that of 28-year old Thomas Lyall, a Caldwell member who was killed in a car accident. Thomas made the decision to be baptized as an adult when he came to Caldwell and that provided a powerful touchstone in yesterday’s worship as we reflected on life and death as people of faith.
So, for this week’s mid-week touch-point, I share my mediation below as an opportunity for us all to reflect on our baptism and the role of baptism in the church.
Before you read that, a few reminders:
- Theology on Tap launches tonight at 7 p.m. at Hawthorne’s Pizza, 7th Street and Hawthorne (NOT Kickstand as previously announced).
- The Prayer Room is open again Wednesdays 3:45-6:45 with host and spiritual leader Peg Robarchek.
- Sacred Relationships: Women and God the Father resumes Wednesday at 7 p.m. in Upper Price (the old Caldwell House space).
Below is yesterday’s mediation.
In Christ, John
Meditation on the Life and Death of Thomas Lyall
I have performed one adult baptism in my seven years in ministry.
In the Presbyterian tradition, we typically baptize infants. We do this out of our belief that God loved us before we ever knew to love God. Babies don’t know God. But we baptize them to show that God loved us, formed us and claimed us in our mother’s womb.
Adult baptisms are a different matter. They involve an adult who is making an informed, conscious, intentional choice. It is as if that adult is saying to the world, “This is important and my life is not complete without doing this.”
I remember the day Thomas was baptized so clearly. It was Easter. At Caldwell church, we start that day by decorating the cross that we place in front of our church. For the 40 days prior, that cross was bare, but for a purple cloth wrapped around it to make the season of Lent. Then, on what we call Maundy Thursday, the day we mark Christ’s crucifixion, we replace the purple cloth with a black one to signify the darkness of the tomb.
Easter is altogether different. Early in the morning, we remove that black cloth to remember that the stone of the tomb was rolled back and Jesus was resurrected. Then it happens. Families and individuals, children and old folk arrive at church with flowers and we decorate the cross. A rainbow covers what had been bare, splintered wood. It is a virtual explosion of color, brighter than any painter could ever capture.
On the day Thomas was baptized, the decorated cross could not have been more vivid. The sky was blue. Thomas wore an equally bright yellow fleece, a perfect match for the decorated cross. That day we baptized two infants, a 10-year old girl and Thomas. And after the service, as the congregation had cake and lemonade on the lawn, our newest members gathered at the cross for pictures.
Thomas stood there so joyfully. His smile beamed as bright as his fleece. There was a peace about him that no one could mistake. And I have no doubt that God was beaming that day, too.
Thomas’ life was changed that day and so was his death, which, of course, we could have never imagined on that glorious morning. Baptism, you see, seals us into Christ and all that Christ experienced.
In baptism, we participate in Jesus’ death and in Jesus’ resurrection. We die to our old selves. We surrender to our Lord and are washed in his grace.
I know there was so much more to the life of Thomas Lyall. His love of learning, his passion for travel, his enthusiasm, his honest, hard work to own his challenges. Thomas came to Caldwell church because he felt accepted and loved there. He was. He always smiled and made a point to speak to me at worship. He was with us on Christmas Eve, when we came to the manger to meet Jesus, again.
Yesterday, I received a call from another new friend of the church. He, too, had found Caldwell and called to say how much he felt loved and accepted. He knew we would be celebrating Thomas’ life today and he reminded me of the book about “The Dash.” The point of that book is that life is all about how we live in between those dates on the cover of our memorial service bulletin. It’s not so much about the start date or the end date. It’s about the dash.
In his “dash” Thomas flourished and blessed those he loved with warmth and affection. And now he has flown away to be with the Lord he so intentionally sought and to whom he is forever sealed.
As we read on Romans, we know that nothing in life or in death will ever separate Thomas, a baptized child of God, or any of us from the love of God.
Amen.