by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama
Despite the bewildering host of complicated decisions we must make, there are
only two alternatives in life between which we must choose. God’s will … or our
own. Or, as David Benner puts it in his little book Desiring God’s Will, there
are only two prayers that can possibly be prayed: “My will be done” or “Thy will
be done.”
Surrendering to God is a way of life—that’s the main point of today’s sermon.
I’ll give it to you now and spoil the surprise. Today is Baptism of the Lord
Sunday. The church calendar tells the story of Jesus, and having just celebrated
his birth—and knowing very little about what happened between his birth and his
baptism—we move quickly ahead to the baptism account. This is a day for those of
us who have been baptized to remember what our baptism means, and for those of
you who are not baptized to give it consideration.
Surrendering to God is a way of life, and the first act of surrender to God is
baptism. This is true whether you were baptized as an older child or adult, and
purposely intended your baptism to be a surrender to God, or as an infant, and
had less choice in the matter. Either way, your life is not your own. This is a
profound truth that baptism simply recognizes. Even when you give your life to
God—and each of us must do so no matter when we are baptized—you are only giving
something that was already his to start with.
Surrendering your life to God, however, is not something you can do once and for
all. Baptism is the start of a life given to God, but it does not end there. We
all have our own will and desires. Often these conflict with what God wants for
us. Every day, every hour, we must give ourselves to God anew. Does this seem
like an imposing task? An impossible chore? If so, you are probably going about
it the wrong way.
I owe to David Benner and his little book the insight that a joyful Christian
life is not the result of gritty self-discipline. Most Christians seem to think
it is. Worship, prayer, Bible study, helping others: You are supposed to do
these, so you bite down hard on the bullet and you do them. God doesn’t want
slackers or excuses. Suck it up, and get it done. That sort of thing. But I
wonder … even when you succeed, where is the joy? And pride becomes a sudden
danger. And if you fail … Well, perhaps there is a better way.
Benner suggests the better way is surrender to God. Your role is passive, not
active. God works in you. Your part is surrender and openness, so that God’s
will becomes your will. It sounds a bit mystical, but I don’t think it is. You
give yourself to God, surrendering your will and trusting him to will what is
best.
By the way, before we can go on, I need to point out that when I talk about
God’s will, I am talking about God’s will every day, not just big decisions.
Many Christians tend to look for God’s will when they have a big life decision
to make. What college should I attend? What career or job to choose? Is this the
right person for me to marry? Those decisions make us seek God’s will, and we
act as if the hard part is knowing what God wants. We are wise to seek guidance
in times of transition, but what about the rest of the time? God cares how we
live from day to day: the kind of person you are, how you treat others, how you
spend time and money, the good you do or fail to do, the temptations you
face—what about everyday?—on the job, at home? The vast majority of the time we
already know what God’s will is, if we care to give it thought. The real problem
is: We want something else.
The classic moment in Jesus’ life for a sermon like this is Gethsemane. Faced
with imminent death, Jesus asks for a way out. In the end, he surrenders to the
Father’s will and prays, “Not my will but yours be done.” This prayer, however,
and the cross with it, is the end of his long journey. And that journey began
with baptism.
John the Baptist drew crowds to the wilderness with his fiery preaching, and he
pulled no punches. He let them know there are only two choices in life: yours or
God’s, and they had been choosing the wrong one. He said God was doing something
new, and you could either be on the right side of it or the wrong. Notice Luke
calls his message “good news,” even though he warned of judgment. It was good
both because God was sending someone with power to set things right and because
the warning meant forgiveness and a new start were possible. In fact, John was
all about a new start for God’s people. He was preaching and baptizing in the
Jordan, where Israel had initially crossed into the Promised Land. If you were
an Israelite ready for what God was about to do, he would pass you through the
same water your ancestors passed through under Joshua. People responded. For the
sake of simplicity, we will consider the responses of only two individuals.
The first of these is Herod. This Herod is Herod Antipas, a son of Herod the
Great. The older Herod ruled when Jesus was born. Herod Antipas got part of his
father’s kingdom. In many ways Antipas, like his father before him, was typical
of petty despots of the time. They got and held power through loyalty to Rome
and ruthlessness. They undertook massive building projects. And of course, they
ruled for themselves, not the people. A single illustration reveals something
about the younger Herod. He fell in love with and decided he wanted to marry a
woman named Herodias. There were just a few minor obstacles. First, he was
already married, to the daughter of a neighboring king. When he divorced his
wife, his already shaky relations with his father-in-law fell apart and caused a
war. Second, Herodias was already married—to Herod’s half-brother! Friends,
before there was Jerry Springer, there was the Bible. Human nature does not
change. Third, Herodias was Herod’s niece. For most people, these obstacles
would have been enough to prevent disaster. Herod, however, unlike most people,
had the power to do what he wanted no matter what obstacles stood in the way. So
he married her anyway.
Enter John the Baptist. As I said, he was a preacher who pulled no punches. He
not only denounced sin, he named names. And one of the names he named was—you
know it—Herod and Herodias. When the preacher steps on your toes, you can do one
of two things: repent—as King David did when the prophet Nathan confronted
him—or get angry. Herod got angry and threw John in prison. Eventually Herodias
schemed to get John executed, but how she managed that is a story not suited to
a church-going crowd like this one.
I want you to notice one thing: Herod insisted on his own will. The difference
between him and most of us is that he had far more power to get his way.
Contrast him with Jesus, who also heard John’s message. Unlike Herod, Jesus had
nothing to repent of. And yet he was the one who chose baptism. Why? As an act
of surrender to his Father. It is no coincidence that his baptism marks the
beginning of his life’s work. I can imagine that Jesus wrestled with his
vocation. We know he wrestled with it as the end, in Gethsemane. Why not at the
beginning? He had a message and a mission and a calling, and everyone who has a
calling must start by surrendering to it. So Jesus wrestled with God’s will, not
just in Gethsemane or after his baptism when he was tested in the wilderness,
but also before. And he submitted to baptism as the most appropriate act of
surrender to his Father. Baptism was his way of saying: “Not my will but yours
be done.”
Baptism marks us as belonging to God. Every day we live out our baptism. Every
day we affirm or deny our baptism. We either act like God’s children or we do
not. And again, what makes the difference is not rugged self-discipline but
surrender to God. I have said that before, but what does it mean? David Benner
has given me some clues. The following pointers are my own variation of ideas
drawn from his book.
Surrender to God starts with trusting God. You can never desire God’s will more
than your own until you are convinced that God is your loving Father who wants
what is best for you. Have you ever wanted something, and it seemed so good and
right, but you knew it wasn’t God’s will. At that moment, your will makes
perfect sense while God’s will feels confining and pointless. After all, why
shouldn’t you marry Herodias? You like her. She likes you. Marrying within the
family means fewer gifts to buy at Christmas. We can always find a million
reasons why our will makes sense. Yet a wise person knows that God is smarter
than we are and sees more clearly what is best for us. When you know God loves
you because you have experienced his love, you can trust his will. And trusting
his will is the first step to making his will your own.
Surrender to God means openness to God. This is an attitude, not an action. You
come to worship and scripture expecting to meet God and be changed. You are
willing to change for God. You want God to change you. You want to be more like
Christ. You may be fearful what God will do—maybe he will make you forgive
someone you don’t want to forgive or take an unpopular stand or become an elder,
a deacon, or a pastor. Who knows? But you are willing to go anywhere he leads.
That’s openness.
Surrender to God means desiring God. Desiring God is different from desiring
God’s will or desiring whatever you hope to get from God. Don’t make the mistake
of thinking God is a means to some other end. God is person. And God wants a
relationship with you. Surrender to God means you want that too. You want to
know God. You want to be closer to God. You want to call on him as your Father,
just as Jesus did. Just one example: Is there a difference between going to
worship because you know you ought to do it and going to worship joyfully to
give God your praise and love? Of course there is, and which would you prefer?
Will power can get you into the pew, but it cannot give you friendship with God.
Only surrender can. If you ask you will receive. If you seek you will find. If
you knock, the door will open. You want God, but God wanted you first.
Surrender to God means a lot more. It means a willingness to let go of your
pride. It means being open to love. Real love is costly and scary, but oh so
powerful. It means cultivating an awareness of God’s presence. God is never far
away. We just don’t notice him.
The point of all this is: The Christian life is not about having the
self-discipline necessary to do a lot of things you don’t want to do. It is
about the transformation God works in us. There is of course a place for
discipline, but it is a distant second to surrender and inadequate by itself.
When we surrender our lives to God, we begin to desire his will more than our
own. Our will is still there, and sometimes it is different from his, yet even
then we feel in our hearts that his will is better.
Baptism is the beginning of a life surrendered to God, but surrender to God is a
way of life. A person is baptized only once, but we who are baptized come many
times to the Lord’s Table. This meal too is an act of surrender. In it we
confess our faith and experience God’s love anew. Love is an action, and God’s
love took the specific form of Jesus’ death for us. In this meal God unites us
with Christ, and we bind ourselves to him in our love for him. This morning, as
we share the Lord’s Supper, surrender your life to God again. Open yourself to
his presence and his work. As you eat the bread and drink the cup, say to him:
“Not my will, but yours be done.” … Amen.